tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32812413412873996592024-02-21T07:06:35.993-08:00Veni, Scripsit, ViciI came, I wrote, I conquered.Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17712969298146762879noreply@blogger.comBlogger102125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3281241341287399659.post-67479987883713717612014-10-25T12:36:00.003-07:002014-10-25T12:37:18.377-07:00Intensely Felt, Sensitive, Promising ProseSomething dangerous happened the first half of this fall semester. I avoided fiction like the plague. I tried to write a line or two every so often, but I panicked. My prose was far from perfect. I wasn't enthused about my ideas. So I just didn't write. I pulled a Paul from <i>Breakfast at Tiffany's</i>. I was sitting around, "writing" my novel, but I didn't even own a metaphorical typewriter ribbon. It was downright depressing.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Is it okay if <i>Breakfast at Tiffany's</i> is my favorite movie now? Hope so.</td></tr>
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Well, the past week I've been home on fall break with plenty of time to mull over NaNoWriMo e-mails and sift through old dreams, and you know what? I've decided I don't care if my prose is perfect. I don't care if I write the most trite piece of work to ever grace the planet. I just want to write something. I'm going to write something that doesn't look like "real literature" in the least because I've got to do something with all the scenes and voices in my head. Let there be irrational inventions and historically inaccurate societies and entirely fictional wars fought by impossible people sidelined by highly illogical romances. Let there be days where I don't write enough, followed by days where I write too much and the ideas all putter out into cliches and ramblings. Let there be early Saturday mornings complete with coffee and fall breezes and chapters only I will ever see because they are so atrocious. Let there be something, anything with my name on it. It's the only way I'll ever get better.<br />
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So there you have it. I'm doing NaNoWriMo 2014. I probably won't win. I probably will only get one decent paragraph out of it. And you know what? <i>I don't care.</i> And not caring feels positively glorious. Goodbye, Mean Reds. Hello, November.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">November Mantra: Channel your post-Holly Paul and for heaven's sake, just write <i>something</i>.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17712969298146762879noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3281241341287399659.post-51729540583235118672014-08-13T10:02:00.000-07:002014-08-13T10:08:29.846-07:00Web Series Review: The New Adventures of Peter and WendyI don't think it's any secret, but in case you aren't already aware, I have an affinity for all things <i>Peter Pan</i>. I am a self-proclaimed J.M. Barrie junkie who wrote a biography on Barrie in 10th grade and thought that made me an expert. Imagine my excitement when I found out that there were folks making a web series adaptation of my darling book, entitled <i>The New Adventures of Peter and Wendy</i>. Cue the happy dancing!<br />
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Let me preface my review with this statement. I am all for the adaptation and even modernization of classic tales. The fact that there are people out there re-telling this hundred year old book is a testament to its classic lit status. <i>Peter Pan </i>contains universal themes and questions that deserve to be revisited. I'm not a purist. I'm not expecting a direct translation of the book to modern times. That being said, I have to admit... I'm a little disappointed in this web series. I know that there is an entire fandom out there just waiting to shoot this Wendy-bird down, but trust me, I have my reasons.<br />
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First, the age of the characters. When I first heard that there was going to be a modern take on <i>Peter Pan</i> set in a small town called Neverland, I figured the main characters would be college-aged. It's perfect, right? Standing on the brink of adulthood -- college and careers knocking on the door -- and Peter doesn't want to leave Neverland, but Wendy knows she has to in order to pursue her dreams and grow up. But in the web series, the main characters are in their late twenties. Not mid-twenties. Not early twenties. Late twenties. Paying bills. Working jobs. Living out of apartments. If the question of "growing up" is an issue at twenty-seven, then we have bigger problems than the immediate conflict in <i>Peter and Wendy</i>.<br />
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Of course, this detail reflects the extension of adolescence in our culture. However, Wendy at twenty-seven? Peter, practically a thirty year old <b><i>man</i></b>, still swearing to never grow up? For me, the ages detract from the conflict. Every time Peter starts to pull on my heartstrings (and he does, Kyle Walters is excellent in the role), my logical side kicks in. There are no excuses for anyone being <i>this</i> childish at <i>this</i> age. Goofiness and irresponsibility is problematic in someone approaching twenty, but seriously disconcerting in someone approaching thirty. If the characters' ages were dialed back a few years, I think I would be more disposed to believe the plot... and like the characters more. Instead I find myself disturbed by the immaturity of fully grown adults. Yes, adults. The childhood Peter is grasping at left years ago, hence why I am not a fan of this aspect of the series.<br />
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Secondly, I don't particularly care for <i>TNAoP+W</i>'s more mature content*. I can tolerate it in small doses (think <i>The Lizzie Bennet Diaries</i>), but I think certain parts of the series were excessive. This is open for debate. I know not everyone has the same sensibilities I do and may beg to differ, but even if there are those who do not mind such elements, the fact is that by including mature content (not graphic, but mature), the series further distances itself from the original novel. Which brings me to my final conclusion: For whatever <i>The New Adventure of Peter and Wendy</i>'s strengths, at the end of the day, it isn't <i>Peter Pan</i>. It's good. The acting is great. But it isn't based on the book. It's based on some of the concepts of and popular myths surrounding the book. The times where it deviates from the plot of the original aren't just minor changes, they change the heart of the story. When all is said and done, the "take away" from the web series differs from the book, which is inevitable when romance is at the forefront of the series. <br />
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I'm still thrilled that there is interest in this web show, though the jury is out on whether or not I can give it a stamp of approval. I disagreed with a lot of things in the series, which can sort of suck the fun out of it. If the <a href="https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/the-new-adventures-of-peter-and-wendy-season-2">indiegogo campaign</a> goes well, I should have a season or two more to make up my mind.<br />
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So there you have it, my thoughts on <i>The New Adventures of Peter and Wendy</i>. If anyone else has seen it, I'd love to hear your take on it.<br />
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* "Mature content" in this series includes an instance of doing drugs, passionate kissing, drunkenness, co-habitation, etc. <br />
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Images: <a href="http://37.media.tumblr.com/7634b81488b2153aea1794c516e4e082/tumblr_n8jhvuk7rt1taojp2o2_250.gif">one</a>, <a href="https://31.media.tumblr.com/6048ab5f1cc7618cc0a8e3fe352a191a/tumblr_n91tfxJh6e1taojp2o1_r1_500.gif">two</a>, <a href="http://www.awkwardgeeks.com/wp-content/uploads/new-adventures-peter-wendy-638x280.jpg">three</a>Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17712969298146762879noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3281241341287399659.post-3601362459772142892014-08-03T07:35:00.000-07:002014-08-03T07:36:49.418-07:00The Inner Conflict of a Self-Professed BibliophileThere is nothing quite as thrilling nor as painful as purchasing books for the upcoming semester.<br />
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First, the exciting bit. I get immense satisfaction from the steady stream of packages containing bound volumes of knowledge. The books always look so smart lined up next to each other, making a proud display of their motley titles. Shall I line them up according to size? Color? Subject? My preferred look is "absent-minded professor style": no system, giving the row the pretty effect of a rainbow gone awry. Then comes the insurmountable pleasure of getting to actually read those books, and to share my wonder (or sometimes, lack thereof) with my fellow scholars. There is a special bond that arises from suffering through a text or sharing its joy. Finally, there comes the contentment of looking over the titles on the bookshelf knowing that I've read -- or sampled -- every last one. The process of ordering books is a promise of new experiences. Of course it's exciting!<br />
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Then comes the terrifying part. With every book comes this dreaded little thing called a price tag. Instead of seeing numbers, I see hours spent at work. "Ah, I see this one is going to cost an hour and a half. There's a closing shift... Early shift... Paid break..." I mean, I knew this day would come. I knew there would come a time where I would have to dip into the little horde of payroll checks I had stowed away in my cave of a savings account. Yet no amount of foreknowledge could prepare me for the emotions of this day. And I know that soon the trickle will turn into a rushing river of bills, bills, bills...<br />
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This double-edged sword of perfect joy and perfect fear practically cuts to the heart of me, especially while staring at the comparative prices of Amazon Marketplace. My passionate love affair with books is pitted against my practical side, the side that lends thrift stores their charm and transforms free grocery store samples into feasts. Used bookstores play to the different corners of my heart and like sirens lure me towards their own fatal rocks.<br />
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<i>See me? "Good condition". Don't you like good condition? And I'm cheap, gloriously cheap! Never mind if my dust jacket is missing, I'm beautiful on the inside, that's what counts. That extra three dollars could go a long way towards buying you a pizza this semester..</i><br />
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My mouth waters. Did I mention I love food as well?<br />
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<i> </i><br />
<i>No, don't mind him! Choose me! "Acceptable condition". Who cares about a few annotations, anyway? Perhaps I'll turn out to be just like Harry Potter's potions book. I could be your Half-Blood Prince. I could instruct you in literary insights so grand your mind would ache! Besides, don't you love the idea of reading someone else's handwriting? Surely there's a story there!</i><br />
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Well, I do love the idea of finding some little treasures in the margins. But what if they're distracting? What if they have wretched penmanship and doodle caricatures of classmates in between paragraphs? I'm not sure I could stand that!<br />
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<i> </i><br />
<i>Over here! See me? I'm brand new, straight from Amazon. No surprises here. I'm strong and steady, predictable, familiar. I smell like fresh ink and possibility. No torn pages, highlighters, or pencil marks. Never mind if I cost a few cents extra. Since when did $1.99 ever break the bank? </i><br />
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You do have a point. But how long until my collection of $1.99 splurges add up to a whole book-worth? In just over a month, I'll be attending social functions with the express purpose of picking up free food. I don't have change to spare! I'm on the brink of being a starving college student again! No longer will sandwiches be free and made with love. The tip will <i>not </i>be taken care of and there will <i>not</i> be half a dozen types of cereal to choose from at any given moment. <i>What say you to that, oh leather bound temptress!?</i> <br />
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Sigh. Being a Hermione Granger can be tough in this economic climate.</div>
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Images: <a href="http://37.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m033nyeMgB1qcwhkeo1_400.gif">one</a>, <a href="http://i1202.photobucket.com/albums/bb376/DrumtheButcher/FireflySimon-Nowords.gif">two</a><a href="http://nevillesremembrall.files.wordpress.com/2014/01/priorities-gif-hermione.gif">, three</a> </div>
Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17712969298146762879noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3281241341287399659.post-8868764802529062032014-07-25T05:10:00.001-07:002014-07-26T07:57:29.472-07:00Book vs. Movie: A Tree Grows in BrooklynEarlier this month, I finally got around to reading <i>A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, </i>by Betty Smith. I heartily enjoyed it and highly recommend it, albeit with a note of caution to younger readers, as it has quite a few mature themes in it. When my father caught me reading my copy while we were driving through Brooklyn on summer vacation (I couldn't resist the irony of reading it in New York), it reminded him how much he had enjoyed the movie and he bought it for our whole family to watch. I had been planning to watch it and blog about it anyhow, but I think watching the movie with my loved ones, especially my dad, made it extra special. So now, without further ado, here it is. Book versus movie. Which one shall come out on top?<br />
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There is no doubt that while the book and the movie share major plot points, there are some serious differences. Certain story-lines were condensed, combined, or cut for the purposes of the film. For the most part, I felt like these were good decisions, since the novel is a rich book with lots of details that are difficult to convey in a few hours onscreen. For example, the book ends with Francie and Neeley as young adults, but the movie stops while they're still children. The movie does just fine without the latter parts of the book and I think shortening the story was a prudent decision.<br />
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However, while some of the changes were true to the nature of the story, others were not. The movie <i>definitely</i> waters down the grittiness of poverty that the novel captures so well. Some of this can be attributed to the censorship in the 1940's. For instance, pregnant women were not allowed to appear onscreen. The notion was unthinkable in those days. Needless to say, my sisters were amazed at how thin these women of a bygone era were, even when months with child! There were other more mature themes that didn't make the cut: the complicated details of Sissy Nolan's multiple "marriages" and miscarriages (simplified and glossed over in the film), the pain of childbirth, and rape/sexual perversity. While the simplification and sometimes omission of these difficult issues certainly gave the film a level of charm, I think it came at a high price. The impact of the book was not fully present in the movie.<br />
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Even themes that did make the movie were weakened, due to the sensitivities of the Greatest Generation, its audience. Johnny Nolan's drunkenness was present, but kept off screen much of the time. More time was spent on Katie Nolan's faults than the complicated vices of her husband. The constant struggle for money wasn't as prominent. There were some allusions to Sissy's strange past, but it was never fully explored. Basically, while all the difficult questions and ugly sides of people were there, they were airbrushed to a certain extent in order to make them screen-worthy. <br />
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There was one scene of the film that definitely outdid the book, in my opinion. (It's a minor detail, so I don't think I'll be spoiling the larger plot for anyone interested in reading/watching <i>A Tree Grows in Brooklyn</i>!). Just after Francie and Neeley graduate, they all go out for ice creams and sodas, and a young boy comes over to the table to ask Francie to the movies. The moment is short in the book -- it's only meant to indicate that Francie is growing up and things are changing -- but it becomes a hysterical and somewhat longer ordeal in the movie. There are no clips of the scene online, but even if you don't plan to watch the whole film, watch that scene for a good laugh. It's adorable.<br />
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<b>Book or movie?</b> Perhaps this is a cop out answer, but I'm going to go with both. I think that while both novel and film tell the same basic story, in the end they are different tales. Betty Smith's novel is a little more beat up, with more grime and dirt and some holes in the knees of the jeans. The Nolan's poverty doesn't have the novelty it does in the movie. The morality of the characters is more complex and questionable. And following Francie and Neeley into adulthood certainly changes the message a bit. Meanwhile, the film is wonderful. I cried, and so did my parents. The acting is superb. I especially love the girl who portrays Francie, Peggy Ann Garner. She's absolutely darling. Sure, the movie isn't as gritty as the book, but it still addresses universal questions and does a great job. So my answers is "both", which I think is feasible, as the movie takes on a life of its own separate from the book.<br />
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Isn't this is a beautiful scene? This captures the predominant questions of both the novel and the film. The themes of education, truth, beauty, morality... All set in an impoverished neighborhood in Brooklyn. <i>It's so awesome.</i><br />
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If you're interested in reading the book, click <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/14891.A_Tree_Grows_in_Brooklyn">here</a>. And <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0038190/">here</a>'s where you can find out about the movie. If anyone here has read it or seen it, I would love to hear your thoughts! Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17712969298146762879noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3281241341287399659.post-15850197506927297192014-07-05T09:56:00.002-07:002014-07-05T09:57:59.789-07:00Back to First PrinciplesMy apologies for having been on radio silent for the past few weeks. I'm calling it a "vacation", but in reality, a fatal combination of life and blogger's block was keeping me at bay. If you could see me, you would see that I am gracefully curtsying and honoring you in return for your patience and understanding. *curtsy*<br />
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So you know what's kind of funny? How often on this blog I speak with a certain air of authority, like I'm an expert or something. Yes, I write, but I'm no published author. Yes, I read, but I have met <i>way</i> more voracious readers than I in my travels. What have I got in my court? Well, enthusiasm. Interest. A whole two semesters worth of higher education. Nothing to make me an authority on much of anything besides how to survive high school. It's almost laughable to read my older posts. REVISION: My older posts <i>are</i> laughable. I should definitely stick to telling funny stories about my experiences with <a href="http://www.veniscripsitvici.blogspot.com/2013/05/guess-im-not-handsome-enough-to-tempt.html">cute boys</a> and <a href="http://www.veniscripsitvici.blogspot.com/2014/04/the-identity-crisis.html">middle-aged women</a>. And <a href="http://www.veniscripsitvici.blogspot.com/2013/08/the-art-of-persuasion.html">waxing poetic about Jane Austen</a> -- I'm pretty talented in that regard.<br />
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Having accepted the fact that I am unskilled yet ardent in my pursuit of noteworthy prose, I give you the two-pronged process that is guaranteed to make me (and you) a better writer: reading a lot and writing a lot.<br />
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Step one, read a lot. While some people will advise you to read anything and everything, I offer a cautionary note. I could go all PHIL 102 on you and explain the relation of the imagination and the intellect and how crucial it is to fill your imagination with good things, but it took weeks of study and one fork-truck-thing analogy (compliments of <a href="http://www.thebookhealer.blogspot.com/">Emily</a>, whose dad works in construction) to make sense of it, so I'll just give you the general idea. Your imagination determines what images you have to think about and contemplate. So if you constantly fill your mind with trashy romance novels and the like, well, those are the images and words you'll have to think about and work with. By all means, take notes and learn from that poorly written mystery novel you had to read in seventh grade, but be selective in your reading. Learn from the poor books that come your way. However, I personally believe a focus on the "good stuff" is essential. Fill your imagination with beautiful imagery, good character development, quality dialogue, and a rich vocabulary and you'll be able to rearrange all those lovely things into a mosaic-story that is entirely your own. First principle: Read what you want to write.<br />
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Step two, write a lot. At some point, you are going to write something and absolutely loathe it. It's inevitable. There is a disconnect between that intangible image in your mind of what your story ought to be and the concrete print of what your story really is. You are bound to get lost in translation at some point. But if you sit around, waiting for blue skies before setting a pen to paper, all that poor writing will make up a much higher percentage of what writing you have to work with. It will take you twice as long to reach the editing phase, which is where the real magic happens and your diamond in the rough becomes a polished gleaming stone. Write on good days. Write on bad days. Write to yourself about how you have no idea what to write. Every day, you'll be the slightest hint better at the craft, and eventually that will add up to something marvelous. First principle: Write as often as you can manage.<br />
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I am hardly a master of these two principles. I say these things with borrowed authority from authors more impressive than I. This post, more than anything, is a promise to myself: to read more and write often. I'm going back to the first principles. Should be fun.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6aG-eosYDMZwudB_qNMOIvYnBvcTGVjNa1vCnjjr74nEYKjFZsCHAmcsou9IdXKdRJCwNr6WIC1Wt6qk3ZSrkoaycBWeN7mAgZrOMS_VS5wK8Q_CYpmZeoplu0cnVNV5YbTcAjgU1x3I/s1600/jack-london-famous-quote.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6aG-eosYDMZwudB_qNMOIvYnBvcTGVjNa1vCnjjr74nEYKjFZsCHAmcsou9IdXKdRJCwNr6WIC1Wt6qk3ZSrkoaycBWeN7mAgZrOMS_VS5wK8Q_CYpmZeoplu0cnVNV5YbTcAjgU1x3I/s1600/jack-london-famous-quote.jpg" height="140" width="400" /></a></div>
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Images: <a href="http://static.tumblr.com/256f58b5c75a2f35254c2523efff4f6d/y7kz2h7/wgsmqd9r2/tumblr_static_tumblr_inline_mg4obptdjw1r6uwou.gif">one</a>, <a href="http://littlemisseverything.files.wordpress.com/2012/05/photo-11.jpg">two</a>, <a href="http://leahkonen.files.wordpress.com/2013/10/ray-bradbury-writing-quote.jpg">three</a>, <a href="http://twistedsifter.files.wordpress.com/2012/03/jack-london-famous-quote.jpg">four </a>Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17712969298146762879noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3281241341287399659.post-16013376914617610662014-06-03T03:39:00.001-07:002014-06-03T03:45:03.008-07:00Peace and QuietI'm not really sure how to go about this post. I've been agonizing over it in my head for days now, searching for the right words. I just finished <i>Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking</i>, by Susan Cain, and let me tell you, it was <u>good</u>. Honestly, it was the literary equivalent of a cup of tea, piles of blankets, and a late night talk with your mom. It was an oddly comforting read, mainly because I finally felt like I had found someone who understood. Susan Cain tackles the topic of introversion with all the detail and emotion it demands. Part of her success is the fact that she's an introvert herself. She is able to combine the scientific and the personal with ease, and the end result is a book that I believe everyone ought to read.<br />
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As Cain states, "America had shifted from what the influential cultural historian Warren Susman called a Culture of Character to a Culture of Personality -- and opened up a Pandora's Box of personal anxieties from which we would never quite recover." The American emphasis on charism and self-expression honestly leaves many exhausted. There are those among us who abhor small talk, who actually <i>enjoy</i> observing the party from the corner of the room, who avoid group projects, and who excel in private pursuits. Yet the culture will have none of it. Businessmen who fail to project their ideas with eloquent, vocal confidence are overlooked. Students who choose to remain silent during class discussions worry their teachers. Children who select one or two friends over a score of acquaintances concern their parents with their apparent lack of social skills. Individuals who delve deeply into their unique passions are labeled weird and sent to the fringes of society. America likes talk and openness and activity.<i> </i>I mean... <i>It's all about presentation</i>.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I couldn't resist adding this.</td></tr>
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For some people, this comes naturally. Extroverts tend to think out loud, love to flit from person to person to engage in quick conversation, and have no problem contributing in a group setting. This is part of the reason why we love them. They can lighten the mood and bring people together. They play off of others well. They can switch gears with relative ease. If you have ever met an extroverted person with a good heart, you know firsthand just how wonderful they can be. However, not everyone is cut from the same cloth. What does America do with the one third to one half of the population that <i>doesn't</i> think aloud, openly share, or enjoy networking?<br />
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Good question. For the most part, it seems, we don't do much of anything with them. We certainly don't accommodate them. Extroversion is more or less mandatory in our day and age. Many folks don't realize they are introverted: They've spent their entire lives playing the extrovert game with the rest of us. As a result, we as a culture miss out on the special gifts of introverts. Introverts tend to be focused, independent workers, passionate about one or two things, and genuine in their social interactions, and while these qualities sound lovely on paper, they don't always fit well with the Extrovert Ideal. Moreover, our extroversion obsession creates a lot of tension. Societal pressure to be extroverted can be overwhelming and damaging. Combine this pressure with the slew of misconceptions regarding an introverted temperament and you have a recipe for a zombie apocalypse: a bunch of burnt out, overstimulated introverts who instead of hungering for brains, hunger for peace of self.<br />
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In order to really appreciate all of this, you'll just have to read <i>Quiet.</i> Susan Cain resolves a lot of misunderstandings and proposes solutions to common problems introverted individuals (or their parents) face. In my humble opinion, however, the main achievement of <i>Quiet</i> is Cain's inherent understanding of her fellow introverts. Throughout<i> </i>the book, as I sifted through the psychology and anecdotes, I was constantly cross-checking her words with my personal experience. I'm pretty solidly an introvert: I detest small talk, though I love deep one-on-one conversation, I enjoy working independently, I prefer to observe before joining in, and I relish time alone. Yet there were times where I didn't match the introvert prototype. I kept scouring the pages for my doppleganger, a unique combination of homebody and public speaker. I thought that if I found my twin, her story would be followed up by the answer to all my questions and anxieties over my personality. Yet no such look-alike came along. My anxiety continued to build, and then, on page 226, I found the question that I had been asking all along, the question that had pestered me no matter how much data I looked at or how many inspirational stories I read:<br />
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<i>Is there something wrong with me?</i></div>
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I'm sure I'm not the only one who has wondered if there was something wrong with my characteristic caution, my reservation to share my feelings, or my distaste for large parties. (Unlike Jordan Baker, I do <i>not</i> think "large parties are so intimate".) The question was answered a few lines later:</div>
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<i>Probably the most common -- and damaging -- misunderstanding about personality type is that introverts are antisocial and extroverts are pro-social. But as we've seen, neither formulation is correct; introverts and extroverts are </i>differently <i>social. </i></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hipsters like me dig 1960's Jordan better. And gosh, I'm in love with 60's Nick Carraway.</td></tr>
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There it was, in black and white, what I had known all along. Printed confirmation that my preference for a few close friends was perfectly valid, and that my need to close the door some nights and watch a movie was normal. I know I'm not alone in this regard, and I'm betting that there is someone out there who is going to read this and know what I'm talking about. This is why I cannot recommend <i>Quiet </i>highly enough. I not only understand myself better for it, but I better understand my friends, my family, and my classmates. Social temperament can't explain entire people -- that would be ridiculous -- but it certainly helps one to understand them. With understanding comes acceptance, and with that acceptance comes a brighter future. "Introverts are offered keys to private gardens full of riches," Cain says. "To possess such a key is to tumble like Alice down her rabbit hole. She didn't <i>choose</i> to go to Wonderland -- but she made of it an adventure that was fresh and fantastic and very much her own."</div>
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Basically, read <i>Quiet</i>. It's good. Goodreads link is right <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/8520610-quiet?ac=1">here</a>.</div>
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* <b>NOTE</b>: There are various connotations of the words "introvert" and "extrovert". Cain takes a broader definition of introversion, and <i>Quiet</i> includes a note on her definition. I'll simply include the introductory sentences: "This book is about introversion as seen from a <i>cultural </i>point of view. Its primary concern is the age-old dichotomy between the 'man of action' and the 'man of contemplation', and how we could improve the world if only there were a greater balance of power between the two types."<br />
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Images: <a 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">one</a>, <a href="http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m4hf9mzk8i1qa0rqvo2_500.jpg">two</a>Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17712969298146762879noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3281241341287399659.post-5128840272424441712014-05-27T08:30:00.001-07:002014-05-27T12:55:11.145-07:00Hitting the BooksAlright, folks. So I had a whole "I'm back from college" post planned full of poetic verses about how much I love school, how summer presents a new beginning, la di da di da...<br />
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And then I realized that no matter how much I labored over that post, I still hated it, and I should really just jump back in to be blogging about actual stuff. So let's talk books, shall we? I do ever so love books. I don't read enough of them for fun at school, since every time I have a window of free quiet time I'm like <i>guess I should be studying ho-hum study study study</i>. However, now I am free! Blissfully free to read whatever I please (more or less), whenever I please (within reason), wherever I please (with some minor limits). It is my goal this summer to read as many books as possible and chart my experience here. I read over every meal I have alone and on every car ride, so hopefully even with work and whatnot, I can get quite a few under my belt before next semester!<br />
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I'm storing some of <a href="http://www.thebookhealer.blogspot.com/">Em's</a> stuff at my house since she lives across the country and she was kind enough to let me borrow the books I'm keeping for her. I've successfully read <i>Snow White and Rose Red</i> (now re-printed as <i>The Shadow of the Bear</i>), <i>Black as Night</i> (also a first edition, now re-printed and edited), and <i>Waking Rose</i>, all by Regina Doman. I had read another one of Regina Doman's books a few years back and honestly did not like it. I still don't care for it, to be frank. The Catholic elements felt fake and I was not a fan of the characters nor the plot -- too far-fetched. However, I decided to take a chance on these three books, all of which share the same characters and form their own little trio within Doman's larger fairy-tale series. Let's just say I'm impressed, and may or may not be experiencing a little bit of character separation anxiety since the four main characters were my constant companions for the past week or so.<br />
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First, pros. The characters in these books are wonderful. As for female heroines, the quiet and timid Blanche paired with her outgoing, colorful sister Rose make for a good balance. They are a healthy blend of strong, gentle, and feminine. Male characters Bear and Fish are both solid, consistent characters, although I am <i>totally</i> biased towards Fish. He's the best part of the whole series. Plot-wise, the books were very clever in their adapting old Grimms fairy-tales to the modern world. There were a few plot twists I did not see coming (primarily in <i>Black as Night</i>). Catholicism was woven into the book rather than tacked on. One of my greatest pet peeves is Christian books that stick God on at the end to magically resolve inner conflicts! Oi. So annoying. Another pro was the dialogue, which improved steadily with each book, and was quite good in <i>Black as Night</i> and <i>Waking Rose </i>in particular. In my opinion, while <i>Snow White and Rose Red</i> was an enjoyable read, the latter two books were the ones that really showed Regina Doman's talent for writing a very natural narrative. Also, she wrote one of my favorite comebacks ever:<br />
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<i>"I took a few nursing courses at the community college, but I'm not sure I'm going to keep it up."</i><br />
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<i>"Why not?" Brother Matt asked.</i><br />
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<i>"She's trying to get an M.R.S. degree," Leon said in a loud whisper.</i><br />
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<i>Indignant, she raised her eyebrows at him. "My mother didn't raise me to be a fisher of men," she said. </i><br />
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Unto the not-so-good things. Among the cons would be the occasional bit of flowery prose. Some of these parts might have been edited out in a later edition, so take my words with a grain of salt. Sometimes the identity of "the secret bad guy" could be a tad predictable, depending on the book. Also, there were a few corny parts, more so in the first book than in the others. Other than that, I have minimal complaints<i>. </i>The books proved to be the perfect way to unwind from a long school year of serious reading material and to segue into a summer full of stories. If you're interested in reading these books for yourself, links to Goodreads are <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/6146985-the-shadow-of-the-bear?from_search=true">here</a>, <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/6013686-black-as-night">here</a>, annnnnnnnnnd <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/1912546.Waking_Rose">here</a>. <br />
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Next up, I've started <i>Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking. </i>So far it has been an excellent and enlightening read that extends to various topics, from cultural changes to education and beyond. I cannot wait to finish and tell you all about it. It's a smashing read and even though I'm not finished, I would highly recommend it to anyone, be they introvert or extrovert.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQULNWV5_eLijU_8Eo4nEu3IadHHWVd-49ar7w5YJB1y3it_TgBBE9GW9xu2jbIr_AR1Px57AbrwqCvwwrryqkVtmP_KkgCax7IZtqh5xR9TR4XVBfcetAYtApIh4tTRx0BSAxpz5C4cI/s1600/coolstorybro.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQULNWV5_eLijU_8Eo4nEu3IadHHWVd-49ar7w5YJB1y3it_TgBBE9GW9xu2jbIr_AR1Px57AbrwqCvwwrryqkVtmP_KkgCax7IZtqh5xR9TR4XVBfcetAYtApIh4tTRx0BSAxpz5C4cI/s1600/coolstorybro.gif" /></a></div>
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Images: <a href="https://31.media.tumblr.com/ae105baf4334eaf77f36947507cdf5bb/tumblr_n68iisXgoW1taklxao1_500.gif">one</a>, <a href="http://24.media.tumblr.com/ac42516d8dbb72ec34259c692ceb9313/tumblr_mr5y1xLa6N1svufyzo1_250.gif">two</a>Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17712969298146762879noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3281241341287399659.post-34807218135613852312014-05-04T12:00:00.002-07:002014-05-04T12:09:28.902-07:00Movie Review: AustenlandBeing the diehard Austenite that I am, I always have to detach a little
from history when I watch an Austen themed movie or series. I had to let
go <i>big time</i> when Emily, Ally and I rented <i>Austenland</i> on a
relaxed Saturday night. Sometimes at school you can get <i>uber serious</i> and all you do is study and have deep conversation and so you need a light, carefree movie to "refresh your palate" or something like that. Instead of giving my metaphorical taste buds a rest, I ended up biting my literal tongue looking at all the
grossly inaccurate, not-at-all Regency pastel decor of the Austenland
manor, and I squeezed the life out of my pillow every time someone did
something non-kosher. ("Why are you people allowed to sit on the same
couch? Why haven't you changed for dinner? Where is all the muslin!?")
However, unlike some other Jane Austen films which try and fail at being
historical, <i>Austenland</i> is all about Jane Austen misconceptions -- an interesting concept to see on-screen.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6nEx_on3mI9PKWE2GYUrfRlUImeMqoktdXD2jgXl9ET-R4yb-2QKfRVQj6z3Rr43JJnSBAKhQ5-cjdhGLVdodYXJWkQgXqrKnJi57Jb_CunAd3Thj2uihe-C7wWsfS26_FYd3qDG6pIw/s1600/austenlandcover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6nEx_on3mI9PKWE2GYUrfRlUImeMqoktdXD2jgXl9ET-R4yb-2QKfRVQj6z3Rr43JJnSBAKhQ5-cjdhGLVdodYXJWkQgXqrKnJi57Jb_CunAd3Thj2uihe-C7wWsfS26_FYd3qDG6pIw/s1600/austenlandcover.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a></div>
<br />
I'm going to be
honest here: This movie hit my limit in terms of appropriateness. It is not
something I would recommend to just anyone. I hesitate to recommend it at all,
but there was one redeeming quality that made me feel like it was worthwhile
for me as an individual. Two words: Henry Nobley.<br />
<br />
The basic plot of
Austenland is as follows: Jane Hayes has been in love with Jane Austen (and Mr.
Darcy) since she was a child. After a run-in with her really slimy
ex-boyfriend, she decides to do something that only characters in chick flicks
can do: spend her savings on the trip of a lifetime. Jane heads to Austenland,
an insanely expensive resort where women go and pretend to be characters in
Jane Austen's world -- complete with romance. Hired actors keep the guests'
experience… "lively". Jane is staying with quite the cast of
characters, be they paid actors or paying customers. Long story short, Jane
finds herself falling for the groundskeeper, Martin, instead of the actor she
thinks she's being set up with, the gallant, eye-rolling, utterly Darcy-like
Henry Nobley. <b>[SPOILER ALERT]</b> There's tension, awkwardness, historical
inaccuracies galore, and then, PLOT TWIST! Lame-o groundskeeper guy is an actor
who has been assigned to woo Jane, whereas Nobley is a history professor who
has been roped into playing a character by his aunt, who owns the place. Henry
really is in love with Jane, and as they both are terrible actors, every moment
they shared was real. He's in love, flies across the pond to profess his love
(and have tea), and they agree to give it ago. Did I mention that when he's not
wearing a cravat he's sporting a thoroughly handsome blazer/sweater/button-down
combo that makes his eyes look super blue and gives him an air of educated -- I
digress. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk7VwG_rkDhobGrHj3nz33QRg-hwXzDasVC2dD6PIq0KVqFx5HpUGQsDR7rjfnx8bAvYuHNo8aMixKDSBscxvrxQiDMGA5yYHz0joq6ztREA2SKetgYZPiKMbdMjWjxQseWIrdFBEnblI/s1600/henrynobleygif1.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk7VwG_rkDhobGrHj3nz33QRg-hwXzDasVC2dD6PIq0KVqFx5HpUGQsDR7rjfnx8bAvYuHNo8aMixKDSBscxvrxQiDMGA5yYHz0joq6ztREA2SKetgYZPiKMbdMjWjxQseWIrdFBEnblI/s1600/henrynobleygif1.gif" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He drinks out of a tea cup for the pure nostalgia of it. Hawt shtuff.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The thing about
Austenland is that it has nothing to do with the real world of Jane Austen at
all. The rich patrons (unlike Jane) experience the highest luxury -- not
exactly the experience of Austen's landed gentry. Moreover, Jane Austen did NOT
(contrary to popular belief) write romances. The sensuous affairs of
Austenland's residents resemble penny dreadfuls rather than classic literature.
Austenland is like Mansfield Park in many ways, in terms of plot and themes. It
looks good on the outside, but it's morally corrupt on the inside. This moral
decadence leads in to what I don't like about this movie -- more on that later
-- but now, for the movie's redeeming quality, Henry Nobley.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div style="font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Besides the fact
that JJ Feilds has the best facial expressions, Henry is more than just the
"good guy" of the movie. Henry and Jane both love the Regency era on
account of its social customs, which are all but non-existent today. The little
gestures like standing when a woman entered the room or limiting physical touch
to dancing were meant to protect love and
promote respect. Perhaps Henry and Jane are a bit idealistic in this regard,
thinking that Regency England was some sort of romanticized haven, but the fact they have ideals is extremely admirable. Meanwhile in Austenland, the hideous and over-sexualized modern culture
mingles with Jane Austen stereotype to create a pink, frothy concoction Henry
calls "grotesque". The prevalence of sexual sin at Austenland
directly conflicts with Henry's values and belief in proper conduct. Hence the
tension between Martin and Henry. Martin acts entitled to Jane's affections,
and takes liberties when it comes to physical contact and playing with her
emotions. Henry, meanwhile, is respectful in his touch and his conversation.
Henry, in his plain and historically accurate costume, stands as a literal and
figurative contrast to his counterparts. Also, he has the most endearing ears.</span></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjePGU6a_V5WACaBPogMDwWk28oSYm3wN_GHEX2DJ8Q-Rb8BuiiZkChhOtgRzOugIvaC0CvSl7N2LD8-qem5Z-BqMhRNy-5V_I_aiUqKmSbmsvJtgWUGW6xv98Hm1jfIe5JYzIifnZX0vI/s1600/henrynobleygif2.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjePGU6a_V5WACaBPogMDwWk28oSYm3wN_GHEX2DJ8Q-Rb8BuiiZkChhOtgRzOugIvaC0CvSl7N2LD8-qem5Z-BqMhRNy-5V_I_aiUqKmSbmsvJtgWUGW6xv98Hm1jfIe5JYzIifnZX0vI/s1600/henrynobleygif2.gif" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dat chivalry, though.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Now unto all that I
didn't like. Unlike Greek tragedy, in Austenland, all the not-so-nice stuff
happens on-screen. There were a number of "scenes" that made me
uncomfortable and I didn't appreciate most of the humor. I also find it
disturbing how flippantly the movie deals with a case of attempted sexual
assault. While the scene itself isn't graphic or overly disturbing, none
of the characters seem to take the occurance seriously. It is implied that such a thing
has happened before at Austenland and has been covered up on numerous
occasions. Yet Jane reduces the incident to blackmail and threatens to make a
case and sue the owner. The notion is dropped by the movie's end with minimal
fanfare. The offender is seen free -- albeit unhappy -- in a scene during the
credits. While all of this immorality played into the larger themes of the
movie, I don't think I can justify the tactless way it was presented. The cases of immorality were not dealt with
tastefully but rather treated as crude objects of humor. I wish I could wholeheartedly
recommend this movie, but alas... I hesitate. Perhaps one could watch it with Clearplay... though I'm not certain there would be a whole lot left.</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div style="font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;">
<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">On a semi-related
note…</span></i></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div style="font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">My favorite Henry
moment was after the play (for there is indeed a play, a la Mansfield Park)
when he asked if he might reserve Jane's first two dances at the ball. This was
the Regency equivalent of saving the last dance, and I very much appreciated
the detail.</span></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Ng4EULa8U8IdEHG9vWamiXIa_pHJ3sUB5xikmxp0uRaJGp98wkrVTS1Ok3p3btA4LPRCA_m9sAut21L4PH96BRNmbgInepAjhAjzFokP444WMQHRLq5LGUydqcdm3w51V2deL404GnM/s1600/henrynobleygif3.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Ng4EULa8U8IdEHG9vWamiXIa_pHJ3sUB5xikmxp0uRaJGp98wkrVTS1Ok3p3btA4LPRCA_m9sAut21L4PH96BRNmbgInepAjhAjzFokP444WMQHRLq5LGUydqcdm3w51V2deL404GnM/s1600/henrynobleygif3.gif" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He calls people ninjas.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And no, I will not stopping adding Henry gifs to this post.<br />
<br />
Images: <a href="http://a3.mzstatic.com/us/r30/Video1/v4/90/5f/3d/905f3d85-f57e-1c06-fe08-4e157a9ba7fb/AUSTENLAND_2013_TH_MLF-WW-artwork.jpg">one</a>, <a href="http://31.media.tumblr.com/3cfad306946793b18393edfd8f103142/tumblr_n15sdxQ2Qr1sefljso4_250.gif">two</a>, <a href="http://31.media.tumblr.com/ecb73a6bb96275790af8ad93d951be33/tumblr_n0v0wuGC9W1sefljso1_250.gif">three</a>Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17712969298146762879noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3281241341287399659.post-77882806406186869782014-04-27T05:57:00.002-07:002014-05-27T06:52:59.347-07:00Fix Your NaNoWriMo Novel in 3 Incredible StepsI usually resolve not to dwell on my old writing too too much...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisTyXa8OQEW1lfVDu1o_mkxPzZ9VwPi8o265nhemhZt5sYx8u3WOWVT6bFol94xj1IpgIoXyeymSHO5XkBC56Z1xYtXWS37SnVT7GPQrvxt3SYIEr0fK0LmDVkLvx5Q6iSUPhfKuS5D-4/s1600/endagif1.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisTyXa8OQEW1lfVDu1o_mkxPzZ9VwPi8o265nhemhZt5sYx8u3WOWVT6bFol94xj1IpgIoXyeymSHO5XkBC56Z1xYtXWS37SnVT7GPQrvxt3SYIEr0fK0LmDVkLvx5Q6iSUPhfKuS5D-4/s1600/endagif1.gif" height="163" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
But then sometimes I get this irrepressible urge to meander down memory lane. So last night I broke out my 2012 NaNoWriMo novel, you know, the one I don't completely hate. For the first twenty chapters, I was really quite impressed with myself. The opening of the plot was brill.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ8DDAfvhPzoQjRbutlp3g-uHNpLG47K7lCsiFfp1TfOJJFuL12fd7W6zzLALq2KZVNjHMWqoyq2A0_Brq1q_flTeR-SoPfbEmglv2UrlSTJ-CvPI0T7CcB7Ets3QO1pOS3MhXBYAXCu0/s1600/wingif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ8DDAfvhPzoQjRbutlp3g-uHNpLG47K7lCsiFfp1TfOJJFuL12fd7W6zzLALq2KZVNjHMWqoyq2A0_Brq1q_flTeR-SoPfbEmglv2UrlSTJ-CvPI0T7CcB7Ets3QO1pOS3MhXBYAXCu0/s1600/wingif.gif" height="162" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Then it got dull. Then it got corny. The words were superfluous and the characters were downright annoying. Oh, and plot holes! So many plot holes!<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRTsO-H-syA_hXcqjE0mYS3ekUUEAkRfEqbx6Ow5NGDbcY5db1X648Hah47RiBrDNFbNPsbVqZFGme_FSjdeycqtTTatCbOY2AzZBVsOMDyzy_pzWUJasVrAYhspSwUq2sYlXlL_h9IQM/s1600/wordsuselessgif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRTsO-H-syA_hXcqjE0mYS3ekUUEAkRfEqbx6Ow5NGDbcY5db1X648Hah47RiBrDNFbNPsbVqZFGme_FSjdeycqtTTatCbOY2AzZBVsOMDyzy_pzWUJasVrAYhspSwUq2sYlXlL_h9IQM/s1600/wordsuselessgif.gif" height="175" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I thought about dramatically bemoaning my utter lack of talent to my family, but I decided against it.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3xIN9DiM8pphnpO6pGNiwmjLtOa6LX341QdzmLodaAOj5NP6u4kTBfZnSaCGGtLUbo8nLU2vYm2XANDt1cb6nNkxM4Anpu1ac3ljAbFVASLiloMMJClswMivx98I-Mw2L-rzEenDMXR0/s1600/pullyourselftogethergif1.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3xIN9DiM8pphnpO6pGNiwmjLtOa6LX341QdzmLodaAOj5NP6u4kTBfZnSaCGGtLUbo8nLU2vYm2XANDt1cb6nNkxM4Anpu1ac3ljAbFVASLiloMMJClswMivx98I-Mw2L-rzEenDMXR0/s1600/pullyourselftogethergif1.gif" height="167" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I can always rewrite. I can just read the first twenty chapters and narrate the rest in my head. Besides, it's my vision anyways. Even if no one else can see it in all of its glory, I can!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSO1bIuIOc01c14Mzx5gTGN95LHLk2d22g7uWY5mpurp75jKkFxaweVEHXScXiOQyQHiJmiI49C6veI4MA7OEgNEcvGalp1TDEoEdFqQQWxo2LP0AN2QsZkVIm2a_76nALOlrgcHyXYXo/s1600/FIRE1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSO1bIuIOc01c14Mzx5gTGN95LHLk2d22g7uWY5mpurp75jKkFxaweVEHXScXiOQyQHiJmiI49C6veI4MA7OEgNEcvGalp1TDEoEdFqQQWxo2LP0AN2QsZkVIm2a_76nALOlrgcHyXYXo/s1600/FIRE1.jpg" height="166" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
In the words of famous fashion designer Edna mode:<i> "Go, confront the problem. Fight! Win!" </i>Three simple steps. I can handle that, right? See my errors, fix my errors, write a Pulitzer Prize winner.<br />
<br />
Meh, maybe later.<br />
<br />
Images: <a href="http://sunshineandthebear.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/10/edna-mode-gif.gif">one</a>, <a href="http://i181.photobucket.com/albums/x95/shellnick2003/WIN.gif">two</a>, <a href="http://media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lqijb6s6VW1qfrbct.gif">three</a>, <a href="http://media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lmxtjfP52Y1qcvznj.gif">four</a>, <a href="http://images.vogue.it/imgs/galleries/encyclo/icone/009874/mcdincr-ec081-h-177211_0x420.jpg">five</a>Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17712969298146762879noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3281241341287399659.post-15086124260329519952014-04-13T15:21:00.000-07:002014-05-27T06:53:44.201-07:00The Identity CrisisAs I love sharing my most awkward stories with you all, I present <i>The Identity Crisis</i>. <br />
<br />
A few weeks ago, I was shopping day with my mum. As I can't exactly drop everything and drive an hour to the mall in my non-existent car at college, it was imperative that we cover as much ground as possible. I'm not particularly prepared for this warm weather, you see. We drove the half hour to the nearest (half-decent) local mall and let the games begin.<br />
<br />
One of the first stores we frequented was a department store, curious to our local area and typically populated by New Jersey moms -- NJM for short. Notable characteristics include heavy foundation (usually a tone too dark), heavy flowery perfume, and mom jeans. They are typically found perusing the clearance racks or looking at over-sized, 80's style earrings. It came as no surprise to me that there were at least half a dozen meandering around the store while I walked through the dress section.<br />
<br />
"Excuse me?" An older woman who was an up and coming NJM, doused in what I have always envisioned Elizabeth Taylor's <i>White Diamonds</i> smelled like, looked at me expectantly. "Do you know where the men's dressing rooms are?"<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOtBq93nsGzW5NwxO32XwRu4TFnn9aB2maWDDZ5aa0gqHb6HJaDXbcqLubwIwuKFpMJL2rc1UiOrgcy84rVQqPYaLazmkrXSTkNhr1IUT3v5wgnrz8l4d6_1Bn1T618Rh6DGmdcETW1TI/s1600/whitediamonds.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOtBq93nsGzW5NwxO32XwRu4TFnn9aB2maWDDZ5aa0gqHb6HJaDXbcqLubwIwuKFpMJL2rc1UiOrgcy84rVQqPYaLazmkrXSTkNhr1IUT3v5wgnrz8l4d6_1Bn1T618Rh6DGmdcETW1TI/s1600/whitediamonds.jpg" height="320" width="273" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"The fragrance dreams are made of"? So the matter of dreams is a perfume...?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
My mouth formed a round 'O'. "Um..." I had been going to this store since I was a wee lass. I could tell you where to find the wannabe snap-on bow ties, the sheer curtains, the maternity clothes, and the baby blankets, but no male dressing rooms. "Well, the guys' stuff is that way. There's probably a dressing room somewhere around--"<br />
<br />
"She's not a saleslady," my mother said, coming up behind me. "This is my daughter." And she placed her hand on my shoulder in that semi-protective, semi-proud sort of way that makes you feel like it's your graduation.<br />
<br />
The woman nodded a bit. She may have smiled, but I didn't really notice. "Thanks anyway." As she and her husband wandered off, I retreated to the dressing room in the thick of an identity crisis.<br />
<br />
"Do I <i>look</i> like I work here?" I asked my mom as I looked myself up and down in the full size mirror. Sure, I don't really dress like other people my age. However, I thought my scarf-skirt-boot combo came across as as youthful and classy, <i>not</i> someone who particularly desired a 40% employee discount on high-waisted jeans and bedazzled velour tracksuits. <br />
<br />
"You look like a young college student who is spending her break working and earning some extra money," my mom said, unaffected and looking over her haul of dresses and tops.<br />
<br />
She meant it as a compliment. Didn't her little girl look so grown up? Wasn't she flattered that people finally recognized that she was indeed a young woman, no longer bound by the constrains of high school stigmas? However, her reassurance did me little good. I always thought my style made me look mature. Now I felt like the poster child for NJMITM: New Jersey moms in the making. Perhaps I could open my own store: NJMSH (New Jersey Moms Shop Here). Free lip pencils with every $50 purchase. My future was bleak and flower-scented.<br />
<br />
I took a moment or two to summon my pride and give my mother fashion advice. Then I dared to venture into the shoe department unaccompanied.<br />
<br />
Cue another woman, also with her husband. She wasn't the NJM type, though I still remember sensing thick perfume. I wondered who sold these stinky scents and thought of Prof. Harold Hill and the original NJM, the mayor's wife. <i>Why, Mrs. Shinn! </i>Prof. Harold Hill would exclaim. <i>That style! That grace! That indescribable elegance! Why, there's only one thing that could make you seem even more splendid... </i>She would have purchased not one but two bottles of <i>White Diamonds</i> on the spot.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbNQQMYQB8BD9CyWAZABBWpseXLORQmMDsptxlGfMB7lkYjVJb56C4jWDfpo0yf_mKhyUlHo-zDm6jA66NzyTRR68Zt_niO0KM_AWjivDBn0a5FH4-hZY7LEhMf6607NsR_DP7lKJaU9U/s1600/mrsshinn.JPG" height="320" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="245" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The one, the only, MRS. SHINN.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
"Excuse me, do you work here?"<br />
<br />
The corner of my mouth twitched a little. "No," I said, "but perhaps I can help you?" In that moment, I seriously considered making a break for the nearest American Eagle. I was so desperate for a touch of youth that I was willing to don a standard teenage uniform of flannel and jeans. Perhaps if I had put on that pair of Uggs that were stuffed in the back of my closet, I could have been mistaken for sixteen, not have been approached, and left in ignorance of the confusion.<br />
<br />
I was soon in the throes of a mini identity crisis. Ought I reevaluate my wardrobe? Binge on Top 20 tunes? Invest in some corny YA lit? Brush up on 21st century lingo? (I can use the words "swag" and "trippy" with moderate success... Is that sufficient?) Am I doomed to be middle aged before my time?<br />
<br />
Okay, maybe only one of those questions actually popped into my head. The point is, why should I feel pressure to be anything other than myself? I do <i>not</i> look like a prospective New Jersey Mom. I like how I dress. I don't care if I don't look like a typical twenty-something. For one, I'm not twenty yet, and second, I'm not exactly thrilled with our cultural approach to dress, or much of anything for that matter. The mainstream media offers a pretty bland culture, one that has lost sight of goodness and truth. It doesn't offer identity -- it demands that everyone mindlessly conform. Well, I'm proud of my identity, because I have one. It's always changing, since I'm always learning more about myself, but at least I have one. So I'm going to keep seeking out the "good stuff" in life, and if that means opting for a different movie, opting for some better music, or dressing a little differently, so be it. Let the Mrs. Shinns of this world keep mistaking me for a saleslady! I could care less! (Just as long as they don't corner me in the perfume aisle... That's how the NJM syndrome spreads.)<br />
<br />
Images: <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiCwtOgXme1wBPZ8YWyiYiPqhXGcA0cDT0XlH9UsbemSCR9dGXnew8fG4JELpUxf6OtQjarJ_KJqOPGZWa6tPoDkRrXYSvz4nur35yY6uCjHOWzxEJmIJXTFIN6MM_phYhj_nm6zEW6TQ/s1600/005.JPG">one</a> Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17712969298146762879noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3281241341287399659.post-39054971797308503672014-03-12T15:12:00.001-07:002014-03-12T15:31:43.135-07:00Titles RevisitedSomething amazing happens when you reread books. They're so familiar and yet so different. The words haven't changed, the book hasn't changed, but <i>you</i> have. You approach it with a different outlook on life and more life experience under your belt. Books that you once thought were the bee's knees may actually be kind of lame. Yet other old favorites are even richer the second time around. They're old, dear friends who welcome you into their home without any pretensions and don't care if you help yourself to their tea stash or fall asleep on the couch. They just fetch the milk and sugar and throw a blanket over you.<br />
<br />
I just finished reading <i>Brideshead Revisited</i>, and I just know it's going to be one of those books that begs for a second go. I'm so glad I didn't read it till now. I've learned a lot in the past year and a half about reading critically and I found a lot of meaning in it, but I can just <i>sense</i> with my reader spidey senses that there is even more to unpack. Rereading <i>Brideshead</i> promises to be a totally different experience from rereading <i>The Chronicles of Narnia</i> or <i>Princess Academy</i>. For those books, the story-world just comes rushing back and it feels like I've returned home. I don't think I'd call <i>Brideshead</i> "home" -- it has a magic of a different sort about it -- but I would call it a keeper. I'm still making sense of the last page. I read it aloud to myself a second time, trying to fully understand it, but there's so much... May I just say that Charles Ryder is the English version of Nick Carraway? I'll admit there are numerous differences between the two, but there were some parts of the book that screamed <i>Gatsby</i> to me. Also, I am going to buy myself a teddy bear and name it Aloysius. Oh, and future husband take note: The English knew how to dress. Looking over screenshots from the two film adaptations, I'm practically drooling over the tweed. Oh yes. Tweed jackets and amazing waistcoats are most <i>definitely</i> in order.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQNMw24Cpelg0bkHVp1QCP8HZBC-ZXvz2-y1qAUsMXuj5sTES-BSn2bCfQJGlXyffFdaQN8yFytCp4feiCRzJXGXa4_xt6FRRnHPqxlMSGxiiiINMCW788DLD4jeOVdOohyphenhyphenhWgE2LrpHI/s1600/bridesheadcover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQNMw24Cpelg0bkHVp1QCP8HZBC-ZXvz2-y1qAUsMXuj5sTES-BSn2bCfQJGlXyffFdaQN8yFytCp4feiCRzJXGXa4_xt6FRRnHPqxlMSGxiiiINMCW788DLD4jeOVdOohyphenhyphenhWgE2LrpHI/s1600/bridesheadcover.jpg" height="400" width="251" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love the quirkiness of this cover. Mine is still very pretty, though.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I've written a review on <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/641723026" target="_blank">Goodreads</a>, which I would encourage you to check out. Spoiler free, I promise!<br />
<br />
I'm planning to read <i>A Tree Grows in Brooklyn </i>next, if I can find enough time before school. Hopefully this summer I will be able to reread some favorite titles. <i>Persuasion </i>and <i>Peter Pan</i> are at the top of my list. I am also hoping to get biographies on Jane Austen and J.M. Barrie. Not only do I love their books, but they interest me as individuals and I gobble up every bit of trivia on the two I can find.<br />
<br />
* Note: <i>Brideshead</i> does have more mature themes. The content isn't overly explicit and everything contributed to the larger whole, but younger readers take note.<br />
<br />
images: <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/30933.Brideshead_Revisited" target="_blank">one</a>Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17712969298146762879noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3281241341287399659.post-38782645850535483562014-02-14T06:11:00.000-08:002014-02-14T06:15:34.064-08:00Valentine's Day: The Enemy of Adventure<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">That vague sense of
impending doom? Yeah, that's a sign that Valentine's Day is coming up. Never
mind that St. Valentine(s) was a hardcore martyr(s)/saint(s) extraordinaire(s), look
what happened after his/their death(s)! <a href="http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/15254a.htm" target="_blank">(Plural confusing you? Click here.)</a> Someone, someone who deserves to be killed by a
slew of Cupid's arrows, had the brilliant idea to commercialize his feast. Now there is an entire 24 hours dedicated to romance --- and some of
us are on the outside looking in. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;">* </span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;">I have discovered that it is held that Chaucer of Canterbury Tales fame first associated V-day with love. However, it was not commercialized until centuries later.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">Yes, ladies and
gentlemen, yours truly is perpetually single. It's actually pretty fun, when
you think about it. I'm in that magical stage of my life where I am learning
all about who I am. And you know what? I'm <i>BRILLIANT!</i> When things are meant to
happen, they'll happen, so until then, I am going to celebrate my perpetual
singleness with nut-free chocolate and decaffeinated Earl Grey. No pity parties for me!</span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in;">
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig7lR8f8S1bL7PXdwfIoExdyx0-GjHgH0FNMDzFjRKXBUeJx_R7G-jn6cIAAr9jcw96_jWYYvq2s_3VIOM-OopZoX4AkAk_i5K7yUnPY6xXQpI7fV6kCqXCBfLwO-vzkUBCNUDkMGqMv4/s1600/emmastonethehelp.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig7lR8f8S1bL7PXdwfIoExdyx0-GjHgH0FNMDzFjRKXBUeJx_R7G-jn6cIAAr9jcw96_jWYYvq2s_3VIOM-OopZoX4AkAk_i5K7yUnPY6xXQpI7fV6kCqXCBfLwO-vzkUBCNUDkMGqMv4/s1600/emmastonethehelp.gif" height="203" width="400" /></a></div>
</div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">Another thing that
is lovely about being single is boys from books. You can enjoy them all,
guilt-free. No commitment whatsoever. I can wax poetic about Mr. Knightley one
moment, and be completely free to drool over Captain/Lord/Mr. Bradford the
next. Boyfriends tie you down. Allow me to demonstrate. Back in my personal Dark Ages, a.k.a. my Jonas Brothers phase, I was
hopelessly in love with Nicholas Jerry Jonas. (I just scared myself. How do I
know his middle name? HOW DO I STILL REMEMBER THIS GUY'S MIDDLE NAME!?)
Apparently my baby-sitter liked him too. (Yes, I was still young enough to have
a baby-sitter. Awkward...) Well, she was in a relationship
with some guy, don't really know who, and we were talking about boys. Because
that's what young girls always talk about with their baby-sitters, right?
Anyways, I asked her if she'd dump her boyfriend for Nick Jonas, you know, if
Nick Jonas ever randomly showed up in a helicopter, got on one knee, and asked
her to go out with him for burgers and milkshakes. (You'd have to be careful with
the milkshakes because he has diabetes and you'd have to mind that he didn't
overdo it on the sugar.) And you know what she said? <i>NO.</i> Middle school me could
hardly believe it.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">"But he's NICK
JONAS!" I gaped. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">My baby-sitter
finished putting the last coat of nail polish on my nails (because I was also
too young to paint my own nails with any success). "Yeah, but I like
*insert boyfriend's nowadays ex-boyfriend's name here*. I wouldn't want to give
that up." </span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Xqny54y67aY2IeBfLq2boUg7su5GnXSXUdZZGQqszV5yQP6mwVsrlaxlkSgPiKfLVByhdqacL5IkvtRxNU9_EWupp46PYWCHQ4Oc-frlH2N5hBx4n-eLjXHsTP7-MxnTcvTjGE-tlWU/s1600/nickjonas1.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Xqny54y67aY2IeBfLq2boUg7su5GnXSXUdZZGQqszV5yQP6mwVsrlaxlkSgPiKfLVByhdqacL5IkvtRxNU9_EWupp46PYWCHQ4Oc-frlH2N5hBx4n-eLjXHsTP7-MxnTcvTjGE-tlWU/s1600/nickjonas1.gif" height="192" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">HOW CAN YOU RESIST THAT FACE?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Do you see what
being in a relationship does to you?</i> To quote The Princess and the Frog,
"Hitchin' ties you down! You just wanna be free, hop from place to place!" We all
saw what problems Rose Tyler's pseudo-relationship with Mickey caused when she
was adventuring with the Doctor. See, I can't properly enjoy my
fictional men if I'm dating! If Nick Jonas showed up in a helicopter, I
would be<i> taken</i>. <i>Relationships interfere with adventures.</i> Tumnus asks you for tea, Hagrid tells you you're a wizard, the Doctor grabs your hand and whispers "run", Bilbo hands you the Ring, or a portal opens that can take you to any fictional world of your choosing. Your response? "Sorry, my boyfriend is waiting for me. We're
supposed to be going out for texting and scones later. Later." <u><i><b>ISN'T THAT
UBER LAME!?</b></i></u></span></span><u><i><b>
</b></i></u></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGkk0z2T9bCylBiXRld1X4MzrWjm6biAeowZf1TEJWyuXkpDzyOT89jFCclP7lOnsTjageRHu4HRo8LpLtQQoVZ527xgtGLS7enJWL7oa6Ibp5YzrfR68n9ogqEO6-SYPDPo1qKAG5IXw/s1600/Texting+and+Scones.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGkk0z2T9bCylBiXRld1X4MzrWjm6biAeowZf1TEJWyuXkpDzyOT89jFCclP7lOnsTjageRHu4HRo8LpLtQQoVZ527xgtGLS7enJWL7oa6Ibp5YzrfR68n9ogqEO6-SYPDPo1qKAG5IXw/s1600/Texting+and+Scones.gif" height="200" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can't go for texting and scones with the Doctor (or Rory) if you're in a relationship. Duh.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">The more I think
about it, the more I'd like to die a spinster. I could don a fabulous cap like
Jane Austen did even though she technically wasn't a widow or spinster yet and
I could spoil my nieces and nephews with sweets. Ah, yes. I think I shall die alone.
Alone and free. Mmm, yes, I like that plan. Spinsterhood, here I come!</span></span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilrsyWb8NcOTwS9nNgcjsTJIrDJ156lP2y8DbuO3PVU6J4KFMGVfTIEtZ1wuZiNNE5MKhvfnJMpEDuVJs_jiNml7F2tKpg16T2Y1ulBru_ssC1emHRb5GdajcW77LmN4ofNC-x_CnA5I4/s1600/oldmaidgif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilrsyWb8NcOTwS9nNgcjsTJIrDJ156lP2y8DbuO3PVU6J4KFMGVfTIEtZ1wuZiNNE5MKhvfnJMpEDuVJs_jiNml7F2tKpg16T2Y1ulBru_ssC1emHRb5GdajcW77LmN4ofNC-x_CnA5I4/s1600/oldmaidgif.gif" height="171" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I like adventures, which is why I will end up an old maid.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"> <b>DISCLAIMER</b>: This
post is dripping with sarcasm and should <u>not</u> be taken literally. The authoress
is, in fact, content with her marital status and simultaneously
enjoys reading about grand adventures and gallant gentlemen. She does not,
however, resent dating, nor does she have any intention of dying an old maid.
Furthermore, the authoress extends her most sincere wishes for a happy
Valentine's Day to all her readers.</span></span><br />
<div style="margin: 0in;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">Image Credits: <a href="https://giphy.com/gifs/gNl9C6WnbMQdW" target="_blank">first</a>, <a href="https://www.blogger.com/"><span id="goog_187395994"></span>second<span id="goog_187395995"></span></a>, <a href="http://frozendry.blogspot.com/2012/07/come-over-for-texting-and-meditative.html" target="_blank">third</a>, <a href="http://moreintelligentlife.com/story/re-writing-jane" target="_blank">fourth</a></span></span></div>
Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17712969298146762879noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3281241341287399659.post-47330944989797063672014-01-23T15:05:00.001-08:002014-01-23T15:08:49.145-08:00Back & Better<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://www.charlieandmewrite.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Ally</a> and I are back
on campus, and we're better than ever, baby! Both ready to fill our minds and
hearts to the brim with wisdom, we face a shiny new semester full of fresh
starts, new experiences, and friends of both the old and new varieties.
Furthermore, on January 22nd, we celebrated our 4th Friendaversary! (Yes; We
are one of those lucky pairs who know our friendaversary.) </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSNeR_OS5VYg5Fj-dhCjwyHgr3ykoD-diIiZRtxaOTIbYtg5sjuGNcBl-YoI4fNqTcFQtWkh8S80iIfRYmSxim4JZqOjA2Drpz22zQqtnl0YJjO8AuAQpIvs7Ru5cayE18ooxqSucTEag/s1600/friendaversary42.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSNeR_OS5VYg5Fj-dhCjwyHgr3ykoD-diIiZRtxaOTIbYtg5sjuGNcBl-YoI4fNqTcFQtWkh8S80iIfRYmSxim4JZqOjA2Drpz22zQqtnl0YJjO8AuAQpIvs7Ru5cayE18ooxqSucTEag/s1600/friendaversary42.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">WE'RE FOUR!!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Our updated and
improved room looks pretty spiffy too. I have plenty of quotes on my wall,
along with photographs and writing inspiration-worthy art and a list of my
writing goals for the semester. Jane Austen's silhouette (captioned with her
official title, Queen of Snark) is positioned so that she is visible through
our open door. (As you know, love is an open door, and we have that in full
supply.) Speaking of <i>Frozen</i>, our Elsa-themed confidence wall is just opposite.
Want a look?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSGsIVJEr5WADe-8hz1SzWd47iGGms8JMqvKXGoV0fujAT-PN0q6z6pGy9PKHc-vgXAARuvgrPtiZ26igmqHQfN9HGicIN8VE1CEDgdLh9KuGE5n9sS5RCTYdk8XHTutAFdLEGYJfuYm8/s1600/IMG_1896.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSGsIVJEr5WADe-8hz1SzWd47iGGms8JMqvKXGoV0fujAT-PN0q6z6pGy9PKHc-vgXAARuvgrPtiZ26igmqHQfN9HGicIN8VE1CEDgdLh9KuGE5n9sS5RCTYdk8XHTutAFdLEGYJfuYm8/s1600/IMG_1896.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Queen of Snark (our patroness)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn9HPJXY9mRjcWNQMRyP7g7JoCdEBXYhBhx7H3KzeRXIIm3MtwscKAvU_bXkRP6yj8tZBNqEZNVxgwArC_6_ib0Ip9bmiJnv7gzGpvzfvm7b1MUGAE1TuGRvNHc6362jKNjsvXaEW-Q9A/s1600/IMG_1897.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn9HPJXY9mRjcWNQMRyP7g7JoCdEBXYhBhx7H3KzeRXIIm3MtwscKAvU_bXkRP6yj8tZBNqEZNVxgwArC_6_ib0Ip9bmiJnv7gzGpvzfvm7b1MUGAE1TuGRvNHc6362jKNjsvXaEW-Q9A/s1600/IMG_1897.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Let It Go = the motto for the semester</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMzUsK5H_4O4KyfMIxx7fZc8Q-5OXi4nQabyhDeqED9cXQ9e8MYv0VAcV3MW4pJWp8mFTsgg_GCsyV9PinkNq2B-FeDnmls5wLqo66uayJVyvSVF3sxgT5ScN4lShIaH275aNR-F2FT3I/s1600/writinggoalsfreshman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMzUsK5H_4O4KyfMIxx7fZc8Q-5OXi4nQabyhDeqED9cXQ9e8MYv0VAcV3MW4pJWp8mFTsgg_GCsyV9PinkNq2B-FeDnmls5wLqo66uayJVyvSVF3sxgT5ScN4lShIaH275aNR-F2FT3I/s1600/writinggoalsfreshman.jpg" height="320" width="315" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This ought to keep me busy!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I look forward to
another semester spent cultivating my mind and growing as a person. I am so
blessed to go to a school with such holistic approach to the liberal arts. I
have learned plenty of practical skills, sure, but I have grown so much as a
person, thanks to my education. Plus, this place is practically overflowing
with cool people! Did I mention <a href="http://www.thebookhealer.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Emily</a> and I now have Peter Pan friendship
necklaces? I have an acorn, and she has a thimble. The clasps are like clocks!
Isn't it perfectly Pan of her? I think my necklace is just ducky (and not just
because it was <i>almost</i> the gift that I got her!). </span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I'll be posting
whenever I can with my busy academic schedule and limited wi-fi access, but I
hope to keep everyone in the know on anything and everything literary, as well
as respond to any and all blog comments. So stay tuned, folks: I have a good
feeling that this is going to be a brilliant year for story-telling. </span></span></div>
Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17712969298146762879noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3281241341287399659.post-28404162973984050332014-01-17T07:03:00.002-08:002014-01-17T07:18:53.080-08:00Bedtime StoriesI may be a legal adult, but I love a good time bedtime story. Yet sometimes, reading a story for myself just won't cut it. There are some nights where all I want is for someone to sit on the end of my bed and read me a chapter or two of <i>The Silver Chair</i>, because I'm a hipster and even if everyone else hates it, it is probably my favorite Narnia book. Yet this never happens. Why? Because my sister is a BUM and doesn't love me, that's why! She says she has to "get some sleep" because she has "school tomorrow". Can't a girl get a bedtime story over here? There's no point in being grown up if you can't be childish sometimes!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">- The Fourth Doctor</td></tr>
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May I <i>also</i> add that Tom Baker not only played the fourth Doctor, but Puddleglum, my favorite character from Narnia. My favorite character who also happens to be in <i>The Silver Chair</i> and gives the greatest speech of all time. I mean, I'm not condoning the BBC version of Narnia (it's wretched and will give you nightmares), but the epic is strong with this one.<br />
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<i>Anyways,</i> bedtime stories are important. A brief conversation with <a href="http://www.thebookhealer.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Emily</a> has confirmed this. Reading to your children at night is priceless. It has developmental benefits, sure, but there is something so utterly <i>magical</i> about being read to as a child. It sets off a creative spark that is kindled throughout childhood and shows its greatest fruits in adulthood. Better yet is when someone weaves together a one-of-a-kind, one-night-only story made out of thin air!<br />
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Irony of ironies, it was my turn to tell my sister a bedtime story last night. The poor gal just got braces, and they have hardly been kind to her. Last night, her upper lip was all swollen and she was positively miserable. My dad and I shuffled her off to bed, and while we were laying in the dark, I asked in a small voice, "Do you want a bedtime story?" She gave the affirmative, and thus I began. <i>Once upon, in a land far away, there was a prince...</i><br />
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It was brilliant, if I do say so myself. ("Oh, the cleverness of me!") I threw together this whole story about a selfish prince who was always scowling and had been lured into this tower by a dragon and now had his foot in his own chocolate birthday cake, and I was just getting to the big reveal about how the dragon was actually a cursed princess when <i>my sister fell asleep.</i> I was on the brink of completing the greatest bedtime story ever told, which was <i>full</i> of fantastic one-liners, and <i>she fell asleep.</i> I guess that was the point, but COME ON. I deserved an award for that one, or at least a bit of praise at the end. Tsk, tsk. Sisters. So ungrateful!<br />
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Now, I am going to go spoil myself with a few passages of <i>Peter Pan.</i> That unique combination of delightfully happy and unfathomably sad stuff ought to make my day a little more interesting, don't you think?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC4B8s4_FW-Wm4Y2wYdw-oA1hGqcB9gCD4QvG8GVktln6MIectk6j9cUCBOhvEdrWOXX3DevS5V1KrAyK3Ky62485WCN_WGuTyOQ9bqudiSgTNPsD5T3C6Cg8yiSDfdJ22rTkaWHgrz1Y/s1600/nevergrowupimage.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC4B8s4_FW-Wm4Y2wYdw-oA1hGqcB9gCD4QvG8GVktln6MIectk6j9cUCBOhvEdrWOXX3DevS5V1KrAyK3Ky62485WCN_WGuTyOQ9bqudiSgTNPsD5T3C6Cg8yiSDfdJ22rTkaWHgrz1Y/s1600/nevergrowupimage.gif" height="305" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ha! The stars are such spazzes!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Side note: Do you realize how many corny quotes from Peter Pan there are in Google Images? Most of them aren't even actually from the book. Clearly, no one realizes how truly depressing, dark, and twisted this novel is. *sigh* No one appreciates literature, not <i>really...</i> (False: Plenty of people do, it's just that sometimes people's sentimental preconceived notions of <i>Peter Pan</i> sadden me.) Operation Spread the Word About Words needs to start <u>NOW</u>. <br />
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Image credits: <a href="http://data3.whicdn.com/images/82920664/large.gif" target="_blank">top</a>Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17712969298146762879noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3281241341287399659.post-33843841135233657742014-01-13T07:43:00.001-08:002014-01-13T07:46:07.933-08:00Various Types of BrillianceSometimes I feel really stupid. Did you know that? Well, now you do. Considering I'm friends and family with a bunch of uber talented super geniuses, it shouldn't be that much of a shock. There are musicians, artists, mathematicians, scientists, philosophers, and fellow writers who can write my socks off with their eyes closed and their hands tied. I feel like the John Watson to everyone else's Sherlock.<br />
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I'll just stand over here and react to your brilliance. Don't mind me!<br />
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However, just as John presents his own talents, abilities, and smarts, I daresay I make my own contribution. There is this theory that there are <a href="http://skyview.vansd.org/lschmidt/Projects/The%20Nine%20Types%20of%20Intelligence.htm" target="_blank">nine types of intelligence</a>, which I only know a little about because instead of taking psychology in high school, I took Honors World Cultures and AP US Government. Point is, I dabble in most of the types, but there is no doubt that I am heavy on the linguistic intelligence. I confirmed this by taking a quiz on <a href="http://psychology.about.com/library/quiz/bl-mi-quiz.htm">About.com</a> (and before you judge me, just know that I couldn't find the one the school psychology kids used). According to the results, I'm good at the following:<br />
<ul>
<li>Good at explaining things to others</li>
<li>Able to use humor when telling stories</li>
<li>Strong abilitiy to listen and remember spoken information</li>
<li>Understands both the literal and figurative meaning of words</li>
<li>Able to use language in many different ways, such as to entertain, to persuade and to inform</li>
<li>Strong grammar skills</li>
</ul>
I mean, that's pretty much a complete list of my greatest strengths. (Humor is debatable. I try, but I'm not saying I succeed.) <br />
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So instead of sitting around and feeling stupid because I can't remember the dates of virtually any historical event or because I can't do ballet or something, I should really just cherish the gifts God did give me.<br />
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In case you thought this post was just me fishing for compliments, I have a proposition to make. I propose we writers take into account the different types of intelligence when devising characters. You have people who are "musical smart" and kids who are "number smart" and others who are "people smart". For example, Sherlock Holmes is <u><i><b>not</b></i></u> people smart. There was <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XSlRigSb3fs" target="_blank">that one time</a> and <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hxwSPDy5OYw" target="_blank">that other time</a> and <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TjTk-K0gyxY" target="_blank">that other time which would totally happen to me</a> and <i>wow</i> all of these have to do with Molly. Gosh, I love Molly.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK7pTIzRzmE29dP82-wAvG5AZ308nNvESgJMA0vAZ7XEXl2S5Y36FC2pV1RwftUNMBGk6X7R4WvZJaKW_xT02Ott5-FKLMtNstAgqei9MvONJEiHwIPfg6a-PfEV0qWa0SYQM002AY8fk/s1600/high_functioning_sociopath__by_harry_potter_addict-d4n0xuu.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK7pTIzRzmE29dP82-wAvG5AZ308nNvESgJMA0vAZ7XEXl2S5Y36FC2pV1RwftUNMBGk6X7R4WvZJaKW_xT02Ott5-FKLMtNstAgqei9MvONJEiHwIPfg6a-PfEV0qWa0SYQM002AY8fk/s400/high_functioning_sociopath__by_harry_potter_addict-d4n0xuu.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(He's not really a sociopath. Do your research.)</td></tr>
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However, Sherlock is the master of deductive reasoning. He also is violinist who dabbles in dance (yes, DANCE), and may be not as deficient in the people skills area as it seems. He's intelligent, but a certain type(s) of intelligent. Write characters with different types of intelligence and you'll have much more variety and interest. Or maybe you have characters whose similar types of intelligence clash or create competition, or maybe just work together in a two-heads-are-better-than-one situation. Just remember that every character has something to offer, and so does every person. <br />
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Image credits: <a href="http://27.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lunn3ziiFU1qfjd5jo1_250.gif" target="_blank">top</a>, <a href="http://media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m6ipoyaKC11qdqxo1.gif" target="_blank">2nd down</a>, <a href="http://epicyearproject.files.wordpress.com/2011/04/john-amazing-490.gif" target="_blank">3rd down</a>, <a href="http://fc04.deviantart.net/fs70/i/2012/020/9/d/high_functioning_sociopath__by_harry_potter_addict-d4n0xuu.png" target="_blank">4th down</a>, <a href="http://media-cache-ec0.pinimg.com/236x/07/e9/2a/07e92a33c394cc082f27060e2b219233.jpg">5th down</a>Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17712969298146762879noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3281241341287399659.post-10526480531027600322014-01-07T17:39:00.000-08:002014-01-07T18:31:57.711-08:00HD Love, Jimmies (plural), & the Like<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>5 Interesting Things You All Ought to Know</b></div>
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<b> </b><i>New year, new me, new blog.</i></div>
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<i> </i>Look around. Isn't it colorful? I am currently working on improving the layout of the blog and making it more functional. I'll be rolling out some more minor changes which will hopefully make this blog easier to navigate. </div>
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<i>Heather Dixon loves me.</i></div>
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Me, <i>and </i><a href="http://www.charlieandmewrite.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Marlene</a>. Below is a screenshot to prove it. If you haven't read Heather Dixon's positively enchanting novel <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/entwined-heather-dixon/1100151881?ean=9780062001030" target="_blank"><i>Entwined</i></a> or clicked "follow" for her hysterical blog <a href="http://story-monster.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Story-Monster</a>, I would highly recommend it. She can make me laugh (or swoon) even on the darkest and dreariest of days.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fangirl captions added for your entertainment.</td></tr>
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<i>Downton is back, ladies n' gents.</i></div>
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While other viewers are trying to keep calm and carry on after Season 3, I am still suffering from post-Season 2 depression. Face it: Best season of Downton Abbey ever. I have professed my love for <a href="http://www.veniscripsitvici.blogspot.com/2012/07/love-triangles.html" target="_blank">William and Branson</a> and <a href="http://www.veniscripsitvici.blogspot.com/2012/09/da.html" target="_blank">Downton Abbey</a> before, so I will leave the gushing to my past self. I am looking forward to Season 4 viewing sessions with my family until I return to school. My sisters, mother, and I all make tea and watch it together, and my father inevitably asks for the details the next day. (He's secretly a fan. I just know it.) So far it's more of the same, but the promise of new characters should shake things up relatively soon.</div>
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<i>On top of Jimmy, there are jimmies!</i></div>
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There's Downton Abbey Jimmy, and then there are jimmies. As of tomorrow, I'll have both! I'm planning to bake some sprinkle-covered cookies over the course of the week, and for some reason the irony of back-to-back Jimmy-ness tickles my funny bone.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPm_Lo7t8qcqO-EoPMdbH8hEMBcBztkSb1_jWZTW5J3F2cpehvz3zNnRWkmr2BYMUlrwvLv5tCmlUDcnp3R2nt7SLpjL7yMRXcVGOMONDo0eeD2V61AlHw8A8HrfcdKEbuz8pcZEdJKao/s1600/jimmyda.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPm_Lo7t8qcqO-EoPMdbH8hEMBcBztkSb1_jWZTW5J3F2cpehvz3zNnRWkmr2BYMUlrwvLv5tCmlUDcnp3R2nt7SLpjL7yMRXcVGOMONDo0eeD2V61AlHw8A8HrfcdKEbuz8pcZEdJKao/s1600/jimmyda.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Durdurdur I'm Jimmy durdurdur.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
-5-</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>My sister loves Earl Grey. I repeat: SHE LOVES EARL GREY.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: left;">
I watched my youngest sister acquire a taste for tea over the past few years, but we had sort of parted ways. She experimented with vanilla chai concoctions while I perfected the art of a perfectly steeped, stirred, and sweetened cup of E.G. She saw me having my "usual" this evening and asked for a sip. She brought the mug to her lips, took a tiny sip, looked me in the eye, smiled, and said, <i>"That was delicious." </i>I promptly made her her own cup and watched her skip off into boiled leaf juice bliss. I'm so proud, guys!!!</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhydrLJw36hT17M2MMrU87GM2sFGAbGesZD00AM5rMfp80NwLyrH-RAOBuwJOKoRRAXL22fYdPW2far_JsebwfZL1Mw7t943ExUN19guStUBbOZG-xWd9eboIXNHiMARtg6Tz84bdAPrGI/s1600/secretingredientiroh.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhydrLJw36hT17M2MMrU87GM2sFGAbGesZD00AM5rMfp80NwLyrH-RAOBuwJOKoRRAXL22fYdPW2far_JsebwfZL1Mw7t943ExUN19guStUBbOZG-xWd9eboIXNHiMARtg6Tz84bdAPrGI/s1600/secretingredientiroh.gif" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The tea was Iroh approved.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
On the writing front... All this time off has given me some time to write, which has been glorious. Still in my fairy-tale phase. I may or may not have promised some of my friends at school some finished stories, so I have my work cut out for me. I only have two weeks before I have to head back! My sentiments on the subject look a little like this:</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/KFQQVEd5LoM?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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Okay, maybe not that dramatic, but I'm pretty happy right where I am. So there you have it: 5 things you ought to know. Until next time!</div>
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</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i> </i>Image Credits: <a href="http://smallscreenscoop.com/downton-abbey-season-4-quotes/337935/" target="_blank">2nd down</a>, <a href="http://www.digitalspy.com/british-tv/s183/downton-abbey/i504257-8/downton-abbey-s03e06-ed-speleers-as-jimmy-kent.html" target="_blank">3rd down</a>, <a href="http://iroh-loves-tea.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">4th down</a></div>
Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17712969298146762879noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3281241341287399659.post-16250821396830945742014-01-03T08:10:00.003-08:002014-01-08T04:20:29.369-08:00Concerning "Writerly Duties"I just told my mother that I had writerly duties to attend to. "<i>Writerly</i> duties?" she responded. "Is that a club or something?" "No, Mom," I said, then launched an explanation of all the writer-ish things I have on my plate. The articles, the blog posts, the essays... I am a busy woman!<br />
<br />
Equipped with a cup of Earl Grey in my Anne Shirley mug (courtesy of my dear friend Abby), I take to my laptop, eager to get some words on the page/screen. I was totally psyched to write yesterday --- <a href="http://www.charlieandmewrite.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Ally</a> and I were supposed to have a writing retreat in a ski lodge --- but a snowstorm interfered. <i>I'm looking at you, Elsa.</i><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVcp5l4DKvWN20M8fV4W6L_jM230AryAc0l6BbAnf9-0Ky6iWevKZKGveCFtIL2GCyzexu2Y3sbZwHwpp19GrxfDzhaPOqZA3hKPhU_3ukzLY6NM2c0Pi48igNu4xseIPxTIyRmQBlXs0/s1600/tumblr_mxeflgqXJo1r5pl3ao1_500.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVcp5l4DKvWN20M8fV4W6L_jM230AryAc0l6BbAnf9-0Ky6iWevKZKGveCFtIL2GCyzexu2Y3sbZwHwpp19GrxfDzhaPOqZA3hKPhU_3ukzLY6NM2c0Pi48igNu4xseIPxTIyRmQBlXs0/s400/tumblr_mxeflgqXJo1r5pl3ao1_500.gif" height="165" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She does what she wants.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Instead of having an at home writing retreat, my cold decided to knock out any and all motivation so that all I could bring myself to do was watch The Legend of Korra and Sherlock. All. Day. Long. I wouldn't call it an unproductive day, though. I did character analysis on the cast of Korra and found out that Molly Hooper and I both do the same giggle thing. Also, <u><i><b>the first episode of Season 3 of Sherlock is brilliant</b></i></u>. #feels<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfNCaSzqhc7mN3YX8IzOcbyNo6ZquShTKv9DQWmF-LpNjQqER7QsysgiFhmDK3ubIkYuEJe7Qa2n8vDIJ3vgrhPdaGOgLL6B4YWsSRM9bwj_dROCkmUJZVY58qAv5cTbTb-V7TG54PwG4/s1600/tumblr_myr1kaeOfx1qablyvo5_250.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfNCaSzqhc7mN3YX8IzOcbyNo6ZquShTKv9DQWmF-LpNjQqER7QsysgiFhmDK3ubIkYuEJe7Qa2n8vDIJ3vgrhPdaGOgLL6B4YWsSRM9bwj_dROCkmUJZVY58qAv5cTbTb-V7TG54PwG4/s400/tumblr_myr1kaeOfx1qablyvo5_250.gif" height="241" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An example of <i>le giggle.</i></td></tr>
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Now I am back on track, thanks to cough drops and a hot shower. (And Sherlock hair ruffling.) Before I return to the world of More Serious Writerly Duties, I thought I would tell you a little bit about my recent trip to Barnes & Noble and show you some cool stuff.<br />
<br />
First up, <i>this blanket</i>. I had to snap a picture because it was so darn awesome, would totally match my future house decor, and I recognized all the quotes.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuqq-P5EN7GDRr68UjnFM-uaDlPIuHnr5RCvkAiU271NBRzO8XY4PY301DctWLc6vbmzIUZTLK1rMc783LfBCJK6G7jotiDmQZoBuqSW482L7lbdr79DrNjrZmwZw91atHP4iBEnoDPo8/s1600/blanket.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuqq-P5EN7GDRr68UjnFM-uaDlPIuHnr5RCvkAiU271NBRzO8XY4PY301DctWLc6vbmzIUZTLK1rMc783LfBCJK6G7jotiDmQZoBuqSW482L7lbdr79DrNjrZmwZw91atHP4iBEnoDPo8/s400/blanket.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Isn't it practically perfect in every way!?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I can't find a link for the product online, but I can personally assure you that this blanket was <i>for realsies.</i> If they have one at your local B&N and you have $40 just begging to be spent, purchase it in my stead. I entreat you.<br />
<br />
I also read some <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hans-christian-andersen-andersen-hans-christian/1110293223?ean=9781435142145">Hans Christian Andersen fairy tales</a>, which I thoroughly I enjoyed. I have a few of his fairy tales upstairs (the more popular ones) which my sister bought but never read (!?), so I might try and read some today. Reading from the H.C.A. collection stirred my memory and made me realize that after years of doubting its existence and dubbing it a figure of my imagination, the <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0044685/">Hans Christian Andersen movie</a> DOES exist, <i>and</i> it has Danny Kaye. My mind was blown.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPHYZhwrAMMlRWwMhyLMTlGnrBkxqZDOm5e4jMm16jWfDYBt1tYAccqGPQXzjfIda88fvl10qCv_UZD7fBQ5eml9p4OMVbpOWbwreo2reOkAVTIICQo8wpXTTyP-ZUtLOF1hXZ2V159q8/s1600/hans-christian-songs.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPHYZhwrAMMlRWwMhyLMTlGnrBkxqZDOm5e4jMm16jWfDYBt1tYAccqGPQXzjfIda88fvl10qCv_UZD7fBQ5eml9p4OMVbpOWbwreo2reOkAVTIICQo8wpXTTyP-ZUtLOF1hXZ2V159q8/s320/hans-christian-songs.png" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See! It's real!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I spent the rest of the trip sitting on the floor, reading <i>The Art of Frozen</i>, a $40 book that I desperately want but don't have the means to buy. I love reading the story behind the story, and the Norwegian influence on the movie is so fascinating, I found myself wishing I could have been a part of the production. I've spent weeks drooling over Frozen concept art now. Is that weird?<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcoD5f7N1ZBGJBbwlCe-FoJ6mgTXfg9xsmTnTETyU9s7gWYtW47Wydlqw1qtVCBzA8bceAFkJGThSK-j9eghCG9A39tg4HwxQxlhXwnsul1a0j9lAdRQf3QF0w3hINcJH7f2fao8lYQv4/s1600/the-art-of-frozen-cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcoD5f7N1ZBGJBbwlCe-FoJ6mgTXfg9xsmTnTETyU9s7gWYtW47Wydlqw1qtVCBzA8bceAFkJGThSK-j9eghCG9A39tg4HwxQxlhXwnsul1a0j9lAdRQf3QF0w3hINcJH7f2fao8lYQv4/s400/the-art-of-frozen-cover.jpg" height="332" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can purchase the book <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/art-of-frozen-charles-solomon/1115382800?ean=9781452117164">here</a>. I think I'll wait for someone to sell a used copy!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I didn't buy anything on our B&N trip, but it was really fun. It was also quite rewarding: My sister bought her own copy of <i>Macbeth</i>! No new books for me until I can read all the ones I bought this summer. It's a new year, and time for some new stories. I can hardly wait!!! <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUGqU_BE09CJplWMXXU_LBRI8NoY1_mJk9uWV91j9eXohjr_LBDlIBnccdp15ofbum_AYHU4IrUmulpHKujnbA3SEgOcDQcm7aEBMvltnEqbhmhLAptCfC33bmGvqgMWeVdUVGp5bhVPE/s1600/lok-gifs-avatar-the-legend-of-korra-30821426-500-255.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUGqU_BE09CJplWMXXU_LBRI8NoY1_mJk9uWV91j9eXohjr_LBDlIBnccdp15ofbum_AYHU4IrUmulpHKujnbA3SEgOcDQcm7aEBMvltnEqbhmhLAptCfC33bmGvqgMWeVdUVGp5bhVPE/s320/lok-gifs-avatar-the-legend-of-korra-30821426-500-255.gif" height="163" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tenzin and I are both pretty excited about new books and Macbeth.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Now, back to those writerly duties. Later, gators.<br />
<br />
* Confirmed: Writerly is, in fact, a word. I give you solid <a href="http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/writerly">proof.</a> Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17712969298146762879noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3281241341287399659.post-91511387429133649992013-12-24T19:32:00.003-08:002014-01-08T04:21:23.350-08:00Twas the Night Before Christmas<div style="text-align: center;">
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through Monica's house, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Not a creature was stirring, 'cept for Monica's mouse.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The words on her screen had been written with care,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
In hopes that someday a full story would be there.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
While waiting to go Mass in new threads.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And mamma on the couch, and I in my lap,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Had just settled my PC while the others did nap.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
When out on tumblr there arose such a clatter,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I saved every image to preserve this dear matter.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Away to a new window I opened like a flash,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Brought up my Pinterest and shouted, "HULK SMASH!"</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
... except not really, because as I mentioned earlier, everyone is <i>asleep.</i> </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Here I am, waiting for Midnight Mass, and writing fairytales. I've successfully downed a cup of Earl Grey and a mug of coffee. I have scrolled through a bazillion pages of gorgeous Frozen concept art to fuel my aforementioned fairytale writing binge. I honestly just want some more writing time for Christmas. Is that too much to ask? Oh, and I want Eleven to stay forever.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSjsl2WhQ6jt2NIFWfHK42LvFsohL-0_q6Qd3T9SB7DtaYCvUjAJXFieK-ANB6QAbUIXta1TVd8S6xrSBbPW4c6Fne5GOUV_bitMBSKTvFPqeU894CRlbhmMSXkjq7Q40_-d8_5zm7qbI/s1600/Time-of-the-Doctor-main2-e1386805938572.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSjsl2WhQ6jt2NIFWfHK42LvFsohL-0_q6Qd3T9SB7DtaYCvUjAJXFieK-ANB6QAbUIXta1TVd8S6xrSBbPW4c6Fne5GOUV_bitMBSKTvFPqeU894CRlbhmMSXkjq7Q40_-d8_5zm7qbI/s1600/Time-of-the-Doctor-main2-e1386805938572.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stay? Please? DAT FOG WATCH. DAT VELVET VEST. *dies inside*</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Merry Christmas, everyone!</b></div>
Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17712969298146762879noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3281241341287399659.post-28724202030452866572013-12-21T17:32:00.001-08:002014-01-08T04:22:04.384-08:00Home AgainOh my stars, it's Christmas break.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF_tr7tzaU8_ILMpGWcCEk1FwTWtmImx1IpKIRF00LCPaoc78Ynbd0h2GOYZhEZ-K8UTjUjDXZHI6eoBdTv26hYflAYIb6iEPVTQHeH9hmBzANa8M-z8P-GuDAv14ZCZP1dGld3qYrX-o/s1600/betaradiation.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF_tr7tzaU8_ILMpGWcCEk1FwTWtmImx1IpKIRF00LCPaoc78Ynbd0h2GOYZhEZ-K8UTjUjDXZHI6eoBdTv26hYflAYIb6iEPVTQHeH9hmBzANa8M-z8P-GuDAv14ZCZP1dGld3qYrX-o/s320/betaradiation.gif" height="179" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">^ Best <i>Doctor Who</i> Christmas special, like, EVER. Brilliant.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Break is just scrumptious. I can't really explain it. It's been a busy succession of tiny little moments that haven't been particularly Christmas-like in nature but I just <i>know</i> that I am on the brink of something magical and sacred and it's exhilarating, honestly. Plus, <b>reading for fun.</b> I'm rereading <i>Mansfield Park</i>. It's even better the second time around. It's as if the characters are all tugging on my sleeve and saying, "Remember me? You've only analyzed half of what I have to offer. Would you care to take a turn about the Room of Literary Bliss?" And then Edmund Bertram gets me enough paper to write a thousand letters back home and I save the most perfectly crisp page just for him and--- I digress.<br />
<br />
So, one semester down, one dragon slayed.<br />
<br />
OH MY GOOD HEAVENS, I just realized my family is watching <i>Monsters U</i> in the other room!<br />
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More posts to come. I promise.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUBIaOZrryVfgYkXb9gN34uq3H_3b6WICOJL6QuBUpBt4rIisXl1S97YZt5cuc-OXAax_fRx-Vxs7Ld8BLklsvEn4hdRmDmeIy8qzSCNNS_vSjuDFQrk1HjmuK2_5e0F9NNQ_QFnfYg1o/s1600/monsters-university-gif1.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUBIaOZrryVfgYkXb9gN34uq3H_3b6WICOJL6QuBUpBt4rIisXl1S97YZt5cuc-OXAax_fRx-Vxs7Ld8BLklsvEn4hdRmDmeIy8qzSCNNS_vSjuDFQrk1HjmuK2_5e0F9NNQ_QFnfYg1o/s400/monsters-university-gif1.gif" height="223" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17712969298146762879noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3281241341287399659.post-26997336878664291022013-12-10T08:00:00.000-08:002014-01-08T04:23:13.887-08:00In Which There is Flirtation<span style="font-family: inherit;">Things can get a
little weird in Ally and I's dorm room when it's as late in the evening as it
is late in the semester. Our room becomes a passing stop for equally overtired
comrades, who are given the rare opportunity to witness Ally and I in our most
fragile mental state. Take, for example, our practice night for Flirting
Friday.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div style="font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">After respective
cases of tummy troubles and burnout, Ally and I resigned ourselves to a night
in last Sunday. A double feature of Singin' in the Rain and Return to Me was in
order. We topped off the afternoon/evening with giant fuzzy blankets and room service
(a.k.a. a pair of nice friends who kindly brought us dinner around five or so).
The night went on, and slowly our minds unraveled. We were exhausted in every
sense of the word. Between exams and the comings and goings of daily life, I
think I speak for both of us when I say that I was completely and totally DONE.
Honestly, Thanksgiving break should have started that weekend for me -- I don't
think anything received my full attention the rest of that week. On a crazy
scale of one to Norman Bates, we were about a seven. It was in this mentally
unstable state that somehow, someone proposed the idea of Flirting Friday.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div style="font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">According to
tradition, Friday is "Fluff-off Friday" for Ally and I. No
housecleaning ("house" being our tiny dorm room). No laundry. No
chores. Just well-deserved relaxation after a week well done. Trading it in for
Flirting Friday didn't sound very appealing, but I humored Ally, as well as a
friend who was keeping us company in our room. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div style="font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I, Honest Abe, told
'em like it is: "But I can't flirt to save my life."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div style="font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">So Ally decided to
show me how it was done.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div style="font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Her version of
flirting, or at least the version that was presented to me on that exceptional
evening, was discussion of Shakespeare punctuated frequently by the word
"like". (Even when she's it down, Ally still comes across as smart.)
Then it was my turn. There was lots of hair twirling… Yup, that was pretty much
it. I quit a few lines in. It was BAD.</span><br />
<div style="font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOn-JB5bZmQJ08BZ5E3-rzqoQRGzhh0uXilma59D2K5GlglTqga6rSeVKAOdFYtPAnh6c4Ry_ibr19XCvWHgxJJ0ZlWc9d2skugk6_pthHAwDxkNvQWBu5uL_xa78gcUTo0aoI-NNoug4/s1600/tumblr_m0hzhvB4Hx1r5xzspo1_250.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOn-JB5bZmQJ08BZ5E3-rzqoQRGzhh0uXilma59D2K5GlglTqga6rSeVKAOdFYtPAnh6c4Ry_ibr19XCvWHgxJJ0ZlWc9d2skugk6_pthHAwDxkNvQWBu5uL_xa78gcUTo0aoI-NNoug4/s1600/tumblr_m0hzhvB4Hx1r5xzspo1_250.gif" /></a></div>
<div style="font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">So we laughed it all
off and abandoned the idea of Flirting Friday. At least, I did… until the
memory came rushing back during a Black Friday interaction that revolutionized
my self-image*.</span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<div style="font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">* That was
definitely hyperbole, just to clarify. Exaggeration hand raised all the way up,
peeps.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div style="font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I don't know where
my sisters and I got the bright idea to drive to the theater that is attached
to a mall on Black Friday when there is a perfectly good theater half the
distance from our house in the opposite direction, but that's what we did. I
think my sis wanted to get some shopping in, and naturally she was the only one
who had luck in the half hour we spent running like mad around the store.
ANYWAYS. We walk in to the theater with just enough time to snag tickets and
seats before the previews start. I pay for all of us -- 3 PM showing of
Catching Fire for four -- and we head towards the ticket-ripper-guy. He was
pretty tall, had some seriously curly, relatively long hair, and I couldn't peg
an age on him. (Had to be at least eighteen.) As he ripped our tickets and
pointed us towards Theater 1, he cracked a joke about not getting lost. It was
pretty funny, sure. I mean, Theater 1 was in plain sight from where we were
standing. Everyone gives that polite laugh that is genuine but not quite genuine
because it wasn't *that* funny. Last girl standing, I hand him my ticket, and
he looks at me and says something about "following my friends" or
something like that. And it hit me like lightning. His tone, the look he was
giving me… It wasn't a normal social interaction.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div style="font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">THIS GUY WAS
FLIRTING WITH ME.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div style="font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Instead of panicking
or making some derptastic noise, I felt a surge of power. The perfect witty
comeback materialized right in the forefront of my mind. I knew precisely what
smile to give him. I could have even batted my eyelashes for good measure. IT WOULD
HAVE BEEN BLACK FLIRTING FRIDAY, PEOPLE.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div style="font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">But I didn't. I
wasn't interested. I think I laughed politely again and booked it to the
bathroom. Yet even though it was an isolated incident and I didn't follow
through with it and it wasn't even that big a deal, for about two seconds I
possessed the power of flirtation. It was empowering. But honestly, I'm pretty
happy being my incapable-of-flirting self. Can you imagine if I had the power
of flirtation in addition to all of my other numerous gifts, namely my knack
for humility? A girl can only be so many things before it starts becoming
unfair. You know, before people start to hate you... I think I'll leave the flirting to the professionals.</span><br />
<div style="font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbOz2RnLsnOJPRxk60JbVeamNe6RP-3w1bVkGrGZp8CMIOIhxHCFHq2MJsn9fYjWt9Fag6Ipqi9JGptL6eW_hcE6Wa5xjF-mqOM5kCI4hO8JhNsIA9mWeACgPUVruv3YA5HsgYp1QajkA/s1600/tumblr_mla1gwievJ1rbsg1bo1_500.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbOz2RnLsnOJPRxk60JbVeamNe6RP-3w1bVkGrGZp8CMIOIhxHCFHq2MJsn9fYjWt9Fag6Ipqi9JGptL6eW_hcE6Wa5xjF-mqOM5kCI4hO8JhNsIA9mWeACgPUVruv3YA5HsgYp1QajkA/s400/tumblr_mla1gwievJ1rbsg1bo1_500.gif" height="236" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Please don't kill me. O_O</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">PS - Catching Fire
was pretty good. DUDE, KATNISS' SWEATER THING. It's like a cocoon, but for
PEOPLE. </span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirFwf5NIxPbBB5IA0Xhj4TkagtAqHQnoO9LNqx2gtKe5uErIcEY-fyqItmiK3Y6GcKqyzQiskMqW5rsIhcTFPHu-ZDdZUZieY8heRbltZajEUYWQWN4_7T5aSkWZTyRCz2jT2VY_lNnjY/s1600/tumblr_mvb7x5vPWq1rj87yco1_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirFwf5NIxPbBB5IA0Xhj4TkagtAqHQnoO9LNqx2gtKe5uErIcEY-fyqItmiK3Y6GcKqyzQiskMqW5rsIhcTFPHu-ZDdZUZieY8heRbltZajEUYWQWN4_7T5aSkWZTyRCz2jT2VY_lNnjY/s320/tumblr_mvb7x5vPWq1rj87yco1_1280.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17712969298146762879noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3281241341287399659.post-74352953136183195672013-12-08T13:19:00.002-08:002014-01-08T04:24:27.451-08:00The cold never bothered me anyways.<span style="font-family: inherit;">I guess it's high
time I gave you folks an update on my NaNoWriMo experience this year. In case
you weren't already aware, I didn't win this year. In fact, I didn't come
anywhere close. I still have to update my word count. I think I hit somewhere
in the 10,000 to 15,000 word range. November ended up being an awfully
stressful month for school, and I couldn't exactly stay up late to get ahead on
my word count like in high school. Truth is, I'm not that disappointed. I
started writing a trio of wonderful fairy-tales that have so much promise, I
could care less if they won me NaNo bragging rights!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div style="font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">For the past two
months, I've been falling in love with fairytale writing all over again. It
relieves my stress instead of adding to it, even when I hit roadblocks.
Fairy-tales provide such a wonderful opportunity to communicate a meaningful
message, tie in themes and symbolism, throw in some quirky characters, while
also maintaining a sense of humor. To top off my fairy-tale love affair, I had
the pleasure of watching Frozen this past weekend. That movie reminded me why I
love story-telling so much. It was beautiful. I would highly encourage you all
to see it. Don't listen to the music until after you've watched it, even though
it's awesome. Oh, and prepare to laugh hysterically. I'd recommend checking out
your sense of decorum at the door.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div style="font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Let it be known that
I write this post while rocking out to the Frozen soundtrack. Gosh, it's so
good, it makes me want to write for Disney or something.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div style="font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi46cncuY4Tlz2paVVH4588n3EKOhiJ5F5JgYkITZYmvk4KlXs39AKIXon-wUZskppMRaP3267wQk37bHIlHPafZTNRIKOSmV9qG4eBjJ-jS3MbR55cbo7ypkT0CrNjugdLIb2zEfOd57Q/s1600/Frozen-Movie-Anna-Elsa-HD-Wallpaper1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi46cncuY4Tlz2paVVH4588n3EKOhiJ5F5JgYkITZYmvk4KlXs39AKIXon-wUZskppMRaP3267wQk37bHIlHPafZTNRIKOSmV9qG4eBjJ-jS3MbR55cbo7ypkT0CrNjugdLIb2zEfOd57Q/s400/Frozen-Movie-Anna-Elsa-HD-Wallpaper1.jpg" height="250" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><br />
<div style="font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Look, Anna has
freckles! Makes me feel a lot better after <a href="http://veniscripsitvici.blogspot.com/2012/05/befreckled.html" target="_blank">this post</a>. Also, Hans has SIDEBURNS and a CRAVAT. Who designed these characters? Can I write them a thank you note? And would they kindly send me an exact replica of Anna's outfit, right down to the boots? Pleaseandthankyou.</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">In other news, it snowed today. It was the first real snow here at school, and Ally and I were naturally ecstatic. It was the kind of snow that made your hair sparkly and crunched under your feet. Combined with all of our Frozen references, I daresay it was a pretty good morning.</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 11pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Until next time!</span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span>Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17712969298146762879noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3281241341287399659.post-67362970901897570272013-11-08T14:13:00.001-08:002014-01-08T04:25:40.803-08:00I've got this friend thing in the bag.Conversation can be intimidating. I fluctuate between being an expert conversationalist and a floundering, speechless dimbo. My go-to conversation-starter spiel goes a little something like this.<br />
<br />
1. Shout and/or say the person's name in a strange accent.<br />
2. Ask a ridiculous question while bouncing around like my sister when the rest of my sisters and I spiked her milk with sugar a few years ago.<br />
3. Stumble through the rest of the interaction.<br />
* If you don't believe me, I can have any number people confirm that THIS IS A THING and I really do it.<br />
<br />
On account of my general social awkwardness (which may or may not be apparent), I love it when other people approach me. (Assuming I want to talk to them. Obviously.) I don't have to scream their name like I'm being murdered in a horror film to get their attention! Better yet is when they come prepared with a topic of conversation, lest I resort to pithy arguments where my opinion makes virtually no sense. This too is a "thing". I've done it several times over. Pity me in my lack of social prowess.<br />
<br />
Enter my Pride and Prejudice tote bag.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLRrMQv4EGAq7Joh7KWLJH7JTQukCy6SA7Qc7sGB4HlJVBicPmo2EC5KZV6fEh3Au-59P3-RUVnpEP2v9bLJj9fmbgeh8EZJfltvBmdUhRjapH95DGwDBZtaYDHk-EeXbIcPxgbSGN3p8/s1600/tote.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLRrMQv4EGAq7Joh7KWLJH7JTQukCy6SA7Qc7sGB4HlJVBicPmo2EC5KZV6fEh3Au-59P3-RUVnpEP2v9bLJj9fmbgeh8EZJfltvBmdUhRjapH95DGwDBZtaYDHk-EeXbIcPxgbSGN3p8/s320/tote.jpg" height="320" width="320" /> </a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
This thing is washable canvas, perfectly sized to contain my schoolbooks and my allergy medication, AND is the ideal conversation starter. I have lost track of the number of compliments this bag has earned me. Some of them have been from <i>gentlemenly persons. </i>They were males who were dead serious about my Jane Austen paraphernalia. As it turns out, some of my college friends had scoped me out as potential friend material way back during orientation on account of my bag. (Emily detailed the whole start of our friendship on <a href="http://www.thereisabendintheroad.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">her blog</a>.) I'm telling you, this tote bag is amazing. Thank goodness I have a second one at home.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
(Long story. Another post for another day.)</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I guess the moral of the story is that it's a good idea to wear your heart on your sleeve. Or, more specifically, your interests on your bag. Makes the whole conversation thing at least twenty times easier. The end. </div>
<br />Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17712969298146762879noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3281241341287399659.post-43915421364682786372013-10-25T13:09:00.000-07:002014-01-08T04:26:22.254-08:00The Peanut Butter AnalogyI think I need a writer's retreat. Even after a week of fall break, the words are just... Well, the only analogy I can think of is the feeling peanut butter stuck to the roof of my mouth. The stories are there, but they're almost as sticky as <a href="http://www.charlieandmewrite.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Ally's</a> super-duper-borderline-crazy organic peanut butter. They're stuck to the roof of my... brain? See what I mean! I'm so desperate, I'm comparing things to peanut butter. I need a drink. By drink, I mean tea. Or coffee. Hot chocolate is also acceptable. <i>Oh my heavens I haven't a pumpkin-flavored beverage yet.</i> This is a major problem. Someone, anyone, please! I need a good dose of pumpkin before autumn gives way to the winter blues!!!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgunW4ta_AfgzHxwp_sBx-YHJrV5Iv1tkZ3dW1z1Fgd0YqOo-w0fcpWJpnNk9pcP2E8C-Dhuu6keypEr3w_1XFaJaaskYaplGenz4YoefT3g9njDosrSk33VDn2ow7iS-jeMHMJTEhNups/s1600/pumpkin-chai-latte.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgunW4ta_AfgzHxwp_sBx-YHJrV5Iv1tkZ3dW1z1Fgd0YqOo-w0fcpWJpnNk9pcP2E8C-Dhuu6keypEr3w_1XFaJaaskYaplGenz4YoefT3g9njDosrSk33VDn2ow7iS-jeMHMJTEhNups/s320/pumpkin-chai-latte.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">GOOD GRIEF, LOOK AT THAT. WHAT IS THAT? THE NECTAR OF THE GODS!?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Back on track. I don't see a real, honest-to-goodness writing retreat anywhere in my near future, but I do see a whole month dedicated to novel writing. Ladies n' gentlemen, it is that time again. That time of the year when my crazy levels are at least three standard deviations away from average and my friends and family start to seriously reconsider my presence in their lives. It's almost NaNoWriMo!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIx6_f71hpTTJ4SFIYaKFb2VJYqq0EFIEPFqjm5u-zBAr7QPW6zYKK2MtDl1ibiW6qlpw_CqFR-LjCwhnnuzt0Fpx8GCIfjtw-zs6a3RXge0KM-CRGM9pKnZzKr6P5DDWBwAcb3IUbPOw/s1600/press-start-fa915ffe8a6fb32bb3eabf7f771620b4.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIx6_f71hpTTJ4SFIYaKFb2VJYqq0EFIEPFqjm5u-zBAr7QPW6zYKK2MtDl1ibiW6qlpw_CqFR-LjCwhnnuzt0Fpx8GCIfjtw-zs6a3RXge0KM-CRGM9pKnZzKr6P5DDWBwAcb3IUbPOw/s1600/press-start-fa915ffe8a6fb32bb3eabf7f771620b4.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">*ze super cool image from ze NaNoWriMo webzite*</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
This year is a really awful year to attempt writing a novel in thirty days. I know for a fact that I am going to be super stressed about school and whatnot. But I also know that I would kick myself if I didn't at least sign up and write on the first day! Who knows what will come of next month. I think I can convince a few other sorry suckers to try their hands at (at least) a few days of frenzied writing spurts with me. The tentative plan is to reboot my NaNo novel from last year, which was not at all what I intended it to be but still showed a lot of promise. I figure if I start fresh, I can redo the whole premise but maintain the integrity of the characters and the overall feel of the story-world. Cool stuff, huh?<br />
<br />
Now that you all know my plans, I can get back to my Astronomy homework. Maybe I'll even get a NaNo-planning session in... A girl can dream!Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17712969298146762879noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3281241341287399659.post-67738539367554350982013-10-12T10:22:00.000-07:002014-01-08T04:28:19.473-08:00Anne-ish Tendencies<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>“I'm so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.”</i>
</div>
</blockquote>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggY9MTzcvCUxB492cPfFOOUQxsRnYybG30VQQUfC5C8Nui45S4LEEFCRy1DYSqNkxSzT4ax5hoT93o0_wOk_wwnxHtbSlCjM9CsZwjbyhBe2E8tMwJA_UY69LPxoaiv6R1wj2DRJN4BnQ/s1600/anneanddiana.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggY9MTzcvCUxB492cPfFOOUQxsRnYybG30VQQUfC5C8Nui45S4LEEFCRy1DYSqNkxSzT4ax5hoT93o0_wOk_wwnxHtbSlCjM9CsZwjbyhBe2E8tMwJA_UY69LPxoaiv6R1wj2DRJN4BnQ/s400/anneanddiana.jpg" height="277" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Isn't this beautiful? http://kasia1989.deviantart.com/art/Friendship-Anne-From-Green-Gables-337566594</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It is October, which has to be my favorite month. It's a delightful combination of brisk fall air, pumpkin-flavored desserts, cozy sweaters, boots, and steaming hot beverages. Autumn is also my most productive writing season. With rainy days and nostalgia practically humming in the air, there is no shortage of inspiration during the fall months. Endless scope for the imagination! Therefore, this is about that time of year when my Anne-ish tendencies really start to show.<br />
<br />
Anne-ish tendency: (n) an inclination towards the literary, the imaginative, and the occasionally stubborn nature of a certain Anne Shirley; <i>see "Anne of Green Gables"</i><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Isn't this cover cute!?</td></tr>
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After a long and stressful week full of schoolwork and studying, last night I desperately needed to indulge my inner Anne. My friend <a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/02428480608755178141" target="_blank">Emily</a> from <a href="http://www.thereisabendintheroad.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">There is a Bend</a> (she's kind of sort of adorable so you should really check out her blog) invited <a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/07960362771428364953" target="_blank">Ally</a> and I to her room for coffee and tea. (I never thought I would find myself drinking caffeinated beverages at 9:30 PM, but somehow college makes caffeine seem like a good idea at any time of the day.) Long story short, we all ended up breaking out our old writings. And oh, did my Anne-inclined heart ache! After days upon days of bumbling through college and not feeling quite myself, I could feel my familiar Anne-ish tendencies welling up in my chest. It was <i>wonderful.</i> Sitting in the depths of despair while being a pseudo-adult can be really exhausting. Sometimes, you need a healthy does of Anne-ness to make life bearable.<br />
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<i>“That's the worst of growing up, and I'm beginning to realize it. The
things you wanted so much when you were a child don't seem half so
wonderful to you when you get them.” </i><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">How I felt getting dropped off at school.</td></tr>
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Though I have yet to discover our local Lake of Shining Waters, this school has great potential as my own personal Avonlea. The gym rents out canoes, for heaven's sake. It's like they <i>want</i> me to act out The Lady of Shalot in the Shenandoah River!</div>
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* ~ * ~ *</div>
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In looking up all of these quotes for this blog post, I have realized that I desperately need to reread <i>Anne of Green Gables.</i> Also, I need Gilbert's stupid face.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stahp it. You're too cute. And stupid. But mainly cute.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17712969298146762879noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3281241341287399659.post-77114435533275805202013-09-08T16:05:00.001-07:002014-01-08T04:28:49.964-08:00I couldn't keep this to myself.Did you guys know that they're making <i>The Book Thief </i>into a movie? Well, they are. I need to get to the store so I can buy approximately 500 boxes of double ply tissues.<br />
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<i>GUYZ, it looks SO GOOOOOD. </i>I watched the trailer for the first time with a friend this morning, and the whole time, we were like this:<br />
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<i>RUDY, RUDY, RUDY!!!!!!!! GUYZ, HE LOOKS SO ADORABLE. </i>And Max! And the Hubermanns! Can we make that 1,000 boxes of double ply tissues? Monicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17712969298146762879noreply@blogger.com2