tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86281862067624014982024-03-08T13:57:19.022-05:00The Cake Was A LieOr maybe it was the cupcakes. Everyone always forgets about them.Larienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10462342017117233282noreply@blogger.comBlogger68125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8628186206762401498.post-7008132693995099172012-01-20T00:42:00.000-05:002012-01-20T00:42:16.098-05:00Oh the Joys of Learning"You guys have lived in Pennsylvania for how long and you still don't know how to ice skate?"<br />
<br />
"I'm from New Jersey!"<br />
<br />
"So am I! You have no excuses."<br />
<br />
(Seriously though. How do you live in a place that has all this snow and ice and not learn? It's ridiculous. Honestly. There should never be a ration of 10:1 with people that don't know how to ice skate vs people that do. Eegh. Off to nurse my bruises. Which were, by the way, not inflicted of my own accord but because I was dragged down helping people. Aren't I nice.)<br />
<br />
((Also, hello blogger I haven't seen your face in a while I'm afraid I ditched you for shinier, better things. But there, there. I'll come around every once in a while. Make sure you aren't too lonely.))Larienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10462342017117233282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8628186206762401498.post-74048178595466944332011-06-04T13:51:00.000-04:002011-06-04T13:51:15.833-04:00The Perfect Man<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="http://imgs.abduzeedo.com/files/paul0v2/spiral/05.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://imgs.abduzeedo.com/files/paul0v2/spiral/05.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I just really like this picture, it's pretty.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>So there are these two fictional characters: Eugenides from The Thief series and Howl from Howl's Moving Castle.<br />
They're pretty opposite as far as characters go, aside from the fact they're both madly in love with someone else.<br />
Like Howl is kind-hearted and calm for the most part and sweet and always a gentleman, but he has the heart of a child and he's just so "awwww" worthy. He can pull off lines no one else can, like "Your hair is like starlight!" which is...cheesy for the rest of the world.<br />
Gen is a thief. He's arrogant and stubborn and selfish and cocky and tremendously witty and clever and afhileahfilehahf. (He's kind of the reason I like Ramsey in the first place.)<br />
So my sister adores Howl and I'm devoted to Gen. However, the topic of their loves comes up again.<br />
Howl has Sophie who is all timid and shy at first because she thinks she isn't beautiful and isn't really sure of herself blah blah blah.<br />
Gen has Attolia (Irene) who is the sole ruler of her country after poisoning the first husband she was forced to marry, commanding, a bit harsh, afraid of love, blah blah blah.<br />
So what's funny about this, is that I'm more Sophie and my sister is more Attolia and there's positively nothing we can do about it. Just that our ideal loves would be utterly unsatisfied with us. Which is kind of sad. But also funny.Larienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10462342017117233282noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8628186206762401498.post-20124967551088072932011-02-26T23:31:00.000-05:002011-02-26T23:31:38.449-05:00Puddle of Shame"Look, everyone's in little groups around the room."<br />
<br />
Lauren and Frank glanced around as Tayah kept talking.<br />
<br />
"See, there's that group in the dark part near the kitchen. And then everyone piling on the couch. And then there's us."<br />
<br />
"You're right," Frank said. "We should commerce. Commerce? Is that the right word?"<br />
<br />
"I don't know what you want to even do," Lauren said, rolling her eyes. She looked over to the group by the kitchen. "I haven't even talked to Allen much. Barely even two words to the guy."<br />
<br />
Frank grinned. "You should go talk to him."<br />
<br />
"No, thanks."<br />
<br />
"I could call him over."<br />
<br />
"That's a pretty bad idea."<br />
<br />
"Allen! Allen! Allen! Allen! Al! Allen!"<br />
<br />
"Ohmyword, stop that."<br />
<br />
"Allen!" Frank called. "Lauren wants to commerce with you!"<br />
<br />
"<i>Oh</i>, converse." She paused. "No, I don't, shuttup."<br />
<br />
Allen looked at them curiously, making a 'what?' gesture.<br />
<br />
"She wants to converse with you! Come here!"<br />
<br />
"<i>What</i>?" Allen yelled over the noise.<br />
<br />
"SHE WANTS TO HAVE SEX WITH YOU."<br />
<br />
"What the <i>hell</i>, Frank?" demanded Lauren, hitting him upside the head. Someone. Kill. Her. Now. Preferably after Allen stopped laughing. Maybe before.Larienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10462342017117233282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8628186206762401498.post-76610010272320261592011-02-02T04:57:00.000-05:002011-02-02T04:57:13.473-05:00Nowhere Near ReadyIt's February 2. oh CRAP it is February 2 and I only have until middle of March and I'm not even close to done and it's a completely crappy thing right now and oh CRAP DARE NEEDS TO BE FINISHED GAAH =____=Larienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10462342017117233282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8628186206762401498.post-73188492669216739912011-01-14T23:43:00.000-05:002011-01-14T23:43:18.488-05:00RamseyTaylor and Claire made another Jaramiah scene.<br />
<br />
It makes me sadface. =/ <---see that sadface?<br />
<br />
I'm much more sad than that.<br />
<br />
Emoticons cannot even.<br />
<br />
So I'm reading my "Ramsey! <3 <3 <3" folder in gmail. It has happy Ramsey. Ramsey that is not scarred or scared or any such thing. Ramsey that's with Ariana.<br />
<br />
Best of all, it has Ramsey with ME.<br />
<br />
(Reading Bus Stop or Ramsey/Ariana drabbles always cheers me up. Because he thinks I'm pretty and amazing and. and. *happiness* Yeah. I realize how sort of pathetic it is to be so happy over a fictional character thinking fictional thoughts. I don't care.)Larienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10462342017117233282noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8628186206762401498.post-64175255434434924922011-01-13T20:46:00.000-05:002011-01-13T20:46:12.486-05:00ahfilehfliaehlfiI am so, so, SO EXCITED!!!<br />
<br />
EXCLAMATION MARKS CANNOT CONTAIN MY ENTHUSIASM!!!1!<br />
<br />
1 FOR MORE ENTHUSIASM!<br />
<br />
=D<br />
<br />
Okay, so, the reason for this JOYOUS ABUSE OF PUNCTUATION AND RAPE OF SHIFT is that on next Friday, January 21st at around 5 pm or so, I am going to meet my wonderful, amazing, fantastic friend Rashelle.<br />
<br />
Seriously, I am so incredibly psyched to meet her. We met in Connections Academy, a government-run online school thing, over Webkinz. Yeah. <span style="font-size: x-small;">Don't mock me the stuffed animals are cute >> And it was 4 years ago.</span><br />
<br />
So, we've pretty much been really close friends ever since and I'm so glad I know her. She's a couple years younger, but she's really mature in her faith and having good Christian friends is really important to me. I can literally talk to her about anything and she generally helps me to be <i>stronger</i> in my walk with God. It's nice to hang out like that. =)<br />
<br />
Plus, we have that kind of a relationship where if we don't talk for a while, we can jump right back in where we left off. Which I really like.<br />
<br />
I was supposed to meet her back in April as one of my presents(she only lives about...2 hours away), but for some reason her mommy didn't like the idea. I don't know why, but yeah. So yeah. I'm really excited about this.<br />
<br />
/It figures that the only person I still talk to from CA is the last one I'm actually meetingLarienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10462342017117233282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8628186206762401498.post-66880787119342289062011-01-12T15:52:00.000-05:002011-01-12T15:52:29.663-05:00Count The ShadowsSo...I haven't slept today. Mainly last night, but I haven't taken a nap.<br />
<br />
This is mainly due to a very dumb decision to read House of Leaves at 3 am.<br />
<br />
Yeahhh. I don't know why I do this to myself. I just honestly love reading horror stories. Maybe I'm just a masochist because my imagination goes into hyperdrive once I'm alone and then bad things happen. Yeah.<br />
<br />
So...it was a good novel. Interesting. The main scary bits were in the beginning around the first 200 pages or so and then it just started getting...slow. Like, it just stopped being scary.<br />
<br />
I mean, scary stuff was still happening, but it just didn't affect me. The stuff that happened to Tom and Navidson and all that was just like "._. bad run of luck, dude ew" and. Yeah, that's about it.<br />
<br />
Still, it didn't stop me from being afraid to go downstairs alone at 7 am when I finished it. I ended up just knocking on my parents' door and snuggling in bed until my dad went downstairs.<br />
<br />
Soooo...yeah. Decent book. Scared me a crapton but I'll get over it. It's not nearly as frightening as Psycho or the boogie lady is to me. Or just darkness in general.<br />
<br />
Have I mentioned that? That I'm scared of the dark? Well, I am. So. Yeah. /endpostLarienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10462342017117233282noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8628186206762401498.post-27346663672769358032011-01-11T21:36:00.000-05:002011-01-11T21:36:53.329-05:00Co-Writing<span style="font-size: small;">You want to know what co-writing is like? This is what it's like. </span><br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></div><div id="internal-source-marker_0.21392851447344496" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">OKAY LETS DO SOMETHING PRODUCTIVE NOW DO IT COME ON IM GOING TO KEEP TYPING UNTIL YOU INTERRUPT ME AND </span></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">GLINDA NOW D< DO SOMETHING START A SCENE COME OOOOOON KEEP BEING PRODUCTIVE ALKHGLAKSHG LI’M GOING TO HIT CAPSLOCK CAUSE MY FINGERS IS TIRED OF HOLDING SHIFT OKAY HERE WOW I DID IT CAPS LOCK I LIKE YOU. =D YOU’RE MY NEW FRIEND. ACTUALLY I LIKE SHIFT BETTER STILL, BUT MY FINGERS WAS GETTING REALLY TIRED AND FOR LONG-TERM PROJECTS LIKE THIS I NEED SOME CAPS LOCK. BUT THAT DOES NOT MEAN THAT I IN ANY WAY DISOWN THE SHIFT KEY, AS THAT SHALL FOREVER REMAIN IN MY GOOD GRACES, MOSTLY AS MY FAVOuRITE MODE OF CAPITALIZING THINGS WOW I MISSPELLED WORDS GLINDA STOP MAKING MY WORDS CANADIAN D< I DO NOT APPRECIATE IT. </span></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">ACTUALLY I TYPE THINGS WITH THE BRITISH SPELLINGS A LOT. AND DON’T NOTICE AND PEOPLE ARE LIKE ._. DUDE YOU SPELLED THAT WRONG - </span></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">GLIND. I THINK YOU’RE JUST AMUSED BY MY RAMBLINGS. STOP THAT. </span></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">GO BE PRODUCTIVE. </span></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">START A SCENE.</span></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">WRITE A BOOK. </span></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">RECORD A VLOG. </span></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">SOMETHING. </span></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">PRODUCTIVITY = NOT THIS. </span></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">GOT IT? </span></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">*WAITS FOR RESPONSE* </span></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">.____________________________________________. notthatkindofscene.</span></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Glind sat before the screen, giggling madly. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline;">This was way too fun.</span></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Sarah sighs and turns off capslock. That was NOT the response she was looking for. </span></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“You should really be more specific about these things. Lots of miscommunication can happen,” Glind politely informed the marshmallow. “Such as talking to marshmallows and dying of laughter. Shrooms, man.”</span></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Mal gigglesnorts. “Okay, but really. If you don’t want to write your scene, we’re doing some Mick. Nic. Neghan … M...ick. Mick. Yeah.” </span></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“Mick! Like Mickey Mouse! Ohmygoodness, we can name it mouse! But they die. From poison. Or maybe dogs eat them. Maybe the dog is like...like..a euphemism for JAMES.” Glind stared wide-eyed at the marshmallow. “That is so deep.”</span></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“You are a complete dork.” Sarah informs Lauren politely. “Also, I was thinking ‘mick’ like “You’re taking the mick” you ever heard that phrase?” </span></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Laur completely disregarded the point of that sentence and burst out laughing. “You started to spell ‘phrase’ with an f! Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha.”</span></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Sarah sighs and tries to not throw things at the Glind. “YesIdidIamsickokaydontmakefunofme.” </span></span></div><div id="internal-source-marker_0.21392851447344496" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“But.”</span></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“Hey this is not being productive. At all. SHHHH. Go write a scene. Put this in the NOT T&D.” </span></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“You mean the file that is completely dedicated to when we get so derailed off of our novel that we just spaz out like this? The file that will most certainly be longer than our actual novel? Okay.”</span></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">“...Yeah, that. And you have thirty seconds. No getting distracted. GO.”\</span></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 36pt;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 36pt;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">---</span></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Now do you see why nothing ever gets done? This is so completely why.</span></span></div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 36pt;"><br />
</div>Larienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10462342017117233282noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8628186206762401498.post-45646969480633553832010-12-27T16:25:00.000-05:002010-12-27T16:25:04.209-05:00Mahal na Mahal Kita, AnakLauren sat quietly with the small child in her lap, thankful that he'd finally stopped crying long enough for her to enjoy some relative silence. The warmth of the fire behind her was pretty nice and as long as the child did not make a move towards it, this was a pretty good situation.<br />
"Listen!" he said suddenly.<br />
She listened. As far as she could tell, there was just the roar of the vacuum going on in the other room, noisy and obnoxious when she was trying to enjoy sitting down.<br />
Then, quietly, she heard, "I love you."Larienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10462342017117233282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8628186206762401498.post-1014192153634004072010-12-19T00:54:00.001-05:002010-12-19T19:07:19.417-05:00Horror of All HorrorsLauren and Meadjean crouched on the bathroom floor, listening to the thumps and yells from outside the room.<br />
<div>"I keep expecting one of their faces to creepily appear in the window or something."</div><div>Meadjean shuddered. "I'm so scared."</div><div>"Me too," Lauren agreed, drawing her knees to her chest. </div><div>"Lauren! Let us in! Let us in!" one of the menaces called. </div><div>Lauren mimicked it in a horror movie-esque way before making a face. </div><div>The noises outside slowly faded away and the two girls turned to look at each other.</div><div>"Think they're gone?"</div><div>"It sounds like it."</div><div>"Shh. I wanna listen."</div><div>They fell silent, both turned towards the direction of the door as they listened, straining their ears for the sounds of small children.</div><div>A couple minutes passed.</div><div>"I think they're-"</div><div>Loud yelling commenced and Lauren yelped, immediately clinging to Meadjean with her eyes shut and just wishing this night would end.</div>Larienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10462342017117233282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8628186206762401498.post-72223877570607769252010-12-03T09:10:00.000-05:002010-12-03T09:10:47.981-05:00By Any Other NameIf I hadn't been entirely sure about switching to my middle name in college, I am now. There is just. ahfliehfliahli EVERY SINGLE LAUREN that I have read in books or seen in movies/tv shows is just. Ew.<br />
<br />
They're either complete bitches or disgusting or. I just. And that's.<br />
<br />
WHY.<br />
<br />
Alex is a much safer name.Larienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10462342017117233282noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8628186206762401498.post-28693982121997368032010-11-03T08:52:00.000-04:002010-11-03T08:52:26.402-04:00YAY NANOWRIMOOkay, so it's kind of already November 3rd, but whatever. Posting every day from here on out. Or trying to. I'll nag Sare about it.<br />
<br />
Keh, so, I currently hate my 'new' novel this year. It's stupid and I don't like the character and just...no. We're not going there. I'm plodding along in it every couple hundred words, but that's about it. And that would be why I'm finishing I Dare You and its sequel this month instead.<br />
<br />
(Yeah. The sequel. Like you didn't get sick of it enough the first time around.)<br />
<br />
There's only a sequel because Sarah insisted on it and apparently it's going to be her reward for getting 100k. MY reward is getting caramacs and her finishing the In The Mood vid of us. =D <br />
<br />
Although, Greg sucks and has a ton more than all of us so I'm trying to beat him and I'd have to get 100k anyways. At least he has school and I dooooooon't. Hehehe.<br />
<br />
So yeah. I'm not posting my wordcount right now. Too busy trying to disprove Claire's expectations.<br />
<br />
And when I do, I will rub it in her face.Larienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10462342017117233282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8628186206762401498.post-11661879742385667012010-10-27T11:22:00.000-04:002010-10-27T11:22:20.771-04:00Five Minutes To MidnightAH FIVE DAYS UNTIL NANO<br />
<br />
*bites nails nervously*<br />
<br />
I am panicking. So much. Agh.<br />
<br />
It's exciting and scary and. and. and.<br />
<br />
PANIC<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">at the disco</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Do you see how odd I get when I get cut off from talking to people?</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">(Btw, Sare, I love you and thank you and you're the bestest best person EVER~) </span> </span>Larienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10462342017117233282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8628186206762401498.post-91509568981489631762010-10-03T19:31:00.000-04:002010-10-03T19:31:53.336-04:00Excitement AboundsOkay, so, it's already less than a month to NaNo. I am so PSYCHED. For once, I have a good plot and characters that are starting to open up to me so I'm not blindly blundering along come NaNo. And good NAMES, too. Ty, Vivienne Pierce for talking to me. I appreciate it muchly.<br />
<br />
Also, today is our FRIENDAVERSARY. Not mine and Vivienne Pierce's. But mine, Taylor, Sarah, Claire, and Anna's! =D I've known you lot for an ENTIRE year now. That's a long time. I love you guys so much, you know that? You mean the world to me. <3Larienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10462342017117233282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8628186206762401498.post-87352265740410975112010-09-17T15:36:00.000-04:002010-09-17T15:36:40.027-04:00Whistle While You WorkOr, y'know, not. I kinda suck at whistling.<br />
<br />
Anyway. This is how my weekend is looking:<br />
<br />
Meadjean and Tayah are coming over around 6:30 tonight. They're coming that early because we have to bake either chocolate cookies or brownies for the bake sale thing on Saturday. And they're going to sleepover as well and Bekah was supposed to come early as well, but she has a game for marching band I think, so she's coming after 9.<br />
<br />
Then on Saturday, my church is doing this free car wash thing to draw people in and it's not really a bake sale so much as, baking stuff to the people getting their car washed for free. There's going to be people going up to the people getting their car washed to talk to them about God/invite them to our church and stuff like that. It'll be lots of fun.<br />
<br />
And after that is Sunday and the choir has a song tomorrow so that means waking up early, getting ready early, getting THERE early and. Yeah. For choir practice, but after the service the teens have an activity. We've got tacos, a movie(To Save A Life, a really awesome Christian movie), and some outdoor game that is sure to be frightening considering Pastor Nathan's running it.<br />
<br />
Oh yeah, and selling these coupon books to raise money for camp next year. That should be...interesting. But yeah.<br />
<br />
I'mma be wiped come Monday. Blah.<br />
<br />
Well.<br />
<br />
Better get back to cleaning the bathtub.Larienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10462342017117233282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8628186206762401498.post-91868253654165366672010-09-07T01:24:00.000-04:002010-09-07T01:24:58.665-04:00Dream A Little Dream Of Me...I just came back from watching Inception.<br />
<br />
Dude.<br />
<br />
WHAT. WAS. THAT. ENDING.<br />
<br />
For cereal, bro. That was...afhielahfliaehflihaeilfhae. I AM NOT EVEN KIDDING YOU. WHAT IN THE WORLD WAS THAT?!<br />
<br />
Honestly. I called Annie up right after I exited the theatre. Dude, not even EXITED yet. It was like... *ringringringring*<br />
<br />
Annie: Hello?<br />
<br />
me: ANNIE! You've watched Inception before, right? RIGHT?<br />
<br />
Annie: Um, yea-<br />
<br />
me: THEN WHAT WAS THAT?!<br />
<br />
and then...general raving and spazzing and talking ensued.<br />
<br />
Also, as I walked back to the hotel, my hands just started like..shaking. Trembling with shock, I dunno, but I just fidgeted with them a lot, had to be doing something with my hands constantly. And then I walked into the hotel.<br />
<br />
And the floor didn't feel right.<br />
<br />
It just...I don't know, sank lower than it should have felt when I took a step. And when I got into my room, it felt like the room was spinning a bit. Unsteady. Not right.<br />
<br />
Gaah. I'm still so jittery. Annie says that's the sign of a really good movie.<br />
<br />
I say it's the sign of me being in a dream.<br />
<br />
I need to find me a totem.<br />
<br />
Hm.Larienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10462342017117233282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8628186206762401498.post-26708209504167051572010-08-28T22:34:00.000-04:002010-08-28T22:34:03.623-04:00MooooooooooVies.<br />
<br />
Just watched Robin Hood.<br />
<br />
MY BELOVED ROBIN OF LOCKSLEY WHAT HAVE THEY DONE TO YOU?<br />
<br />
They've raped you, that's what.<br />
<br />
What a horrible movie.<br />
<br />
I didn't even bother to finish it. The raping was that bad.<br />
<br />
Ugh.Larienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10462342017117233282noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8628186206762401498.post-20096972456256392802010-08-10T23:14:00.000-04:002010-08-10T23:14:33.365-04:00Oh My GodSo I started this thing where I read five Psalms every day. Basically, you pick out the number of whatever date it is today, then add 30 to it, then another 30, and so on. For five psalms. It's really cool. *nodnod* SO! Since I'm trying to blog every day, if I don't have something going on that day, I'll probably post my devtions. =D<br />
<br />
But I am poor and needy; yet the Lord thinks upon me. You are my help and my deliverer; do not delay, O my God - Psalm 40:17<br />
<br />
Oh my God. What a wonderful thing that is to say. To be able to call the almighty Lord mine. To be able to call on Him at any time and have Him listen as I pour out my heart. God is not some distant being who judges from afar. He is my protector and deliverer, a help in present trouble.<br />
<br />
To be able to read His love letter to me is a blessing I am grateful for. Reading it fills me with an overflowing and everlasting joy and I cry with praise for Him. No matter how the tempest rages, He will forever be constant and unchanging. He will never leave me nor forsake me.<br />
<br />
For we are sheep who have gone astray, we have turned everyone to his own way, but the Lord has set on Him the iniquity of us all. I think that's the greatest love story of all. It's what every romance is based on, every dream's origin. That someone would love us, someone would <i>die</i> for us. We who are so wayward and change so easily and still, He sacrificed His life for us. For me.<br />
<br />
Make a joyful shout to the Lord, all you lands! Serve the Lord with gladness; come before His presence with singing. Know that the Lord, He is God,; it is He who has made us and not we ourselves; we are His people and the sheep of His pasture. Enter into His gates with thanksgiving, and into His courts with praise. Be thankful to Him and bless His name. For the Lord is good; His mercy is everlasting, and His truth endures to all generations. - Psalm 100<br />
<br />
How can anyone read that psalm and not have a song in their hearts? God is so good and merciful and strong. Oh, my God, how the heavens declare your name and the very earth displays your handiwork. You are awesome by the very definition of the word.<br />
<br />
Thank you for talking to me when I needed you most. Thank you for teaching me to let go and forgive. Thank you for your neverending love for me. Thank you for filling me with your boundless joy.<br />
<br />
Thank you for being my God.Larienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10462342017117233282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8628186206762401498.post-35388922618768869092010-07-26T12:00:00.000-04:002010-07-26T12:00:52.742-04:00The Girl Next DoorA post! Because I forgot to blog about it yesterday.<br />
<br />
Yesterday.<br />
<br />
Was.<br />
<br />
AWESOME!<br />
<br />
Dude, seriously. After church, we had a youth group activity, and it was just supposed to be pizza and a movie at the church, but we actually went out to a place called Cici's pizza down in easton, about...45 min away? So THAT meant that I got to sit in a car for 45 MIN with Donnie.<br />
<br />
Did I mention I was the only girl there? Yeah. I was. Only me, Donnie, Shane, Henry, and Tyler. So it was me and Shane in the back of the car, then Henry, Tyler, and Donnie in the middle with my youth pastor and his wife in the front. And then Shane decided that he had to ask some girl he knows to come with us and like...borrowed my phone for the ENTIRE TRIP.<br />
<br />
Shane's actually not so bad if you just talk to him. I mean, yes, he can be a jerk, but he's pretty okay. Funny, too.<br />
<br />
Tyler just tries too hard. Tries too hard to be cool and to sit next to me and...I'unno. At first, it's kinda flattering, but then just kinda weird that someone 3 years younger is continuing to like you. He's a real sweetie, though. Always a gentleman to the ladies, haha.<br />
<br />
Donnie is...I don't even know. He's cool and I like him lots but then he beats on Tyler and I'm just "dudethat'snotcool ._." I guess he's just a regular teenage boy. BUT I FOUND OUT WHERE HE LIVESSSSSS!<br />
<br />
Pastor Nathan decided to just drop us off at our respective houses and his, Shane's, and Tyler's was first and they live not even two minutes away from me. It's so WEIRD.<br />
<br />
Henry's a pretty cool guy. He's pretty much the only guy I talk to a lot and am just really comfortable with. There's a swingset at the back of the church with two normal swings, and then one of those round swings in the middle. The kind that is just a round seat with a rope at the center. Anyways, so we went out to swing while everyone was in the church and since the swingset is for little kids, we had to toss the round swing over once for it to be high enough. And then we tossed it over again so it was REALLY high and then I couldn't get on, but kept trying. But he managed to get on and it was all just very fun. *nodnod*<br />
<br />
Being the only girl with a bunch of guys wasn't so bad. I mean, I've known them for three years, right? Haha. But yeah. *loves*Larienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10462342017117233282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8628186206762401498.post-91862851370033109462010-07-22T00:26:00.000-04:002010-07-22T00:26:59.712-04:00Happy Birthday, Dearest<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i254.photobucket.com/albums/hh98/glindastar/Random/remiond.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="224" src="http://i254.photobucket.com/albums/hh98/glindastar/Random/remiond.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">So it’s finally July 22. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Forgiveness is not something we do for other people. It’s something we do for ourselves to move on. But I remember <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">so</i> much.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I remember pretending we were puppies that were abandoned by our parents and one of us would run away from the other, thinking that the other was ignoring us only to be brought back and reassured of our love.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I remember <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>pretending we were Xanya and Manic or Sonic.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I remember waiting for you while you were at school and eagerly jumping out of the car to greet you.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I remember you running away from my hugs because I hugged too tight and too long and wouldn’t let you go.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I remember Lassie and Goldie and Chocolate and Dallas and Wags and the rest of our stuffed dog family.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I remember arriving at your house so late at night that you’d already be asleep and I’d sneak into your room and crawl into bed next to you, cuddling you and just breathing you in.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I remember Polly Pocket(those rubber dresses with the glitter that wouldn’t come off) and Littlest Pet Shop(Ribbon) and our miniatures and all the drama our dolls seemed to have.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I remember constantly cleaning your playroom or your normal room and not thinking it was a chore just because we made it a huge game.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I remember mixing our ice cream with pop.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I remember our eight hour long phone conversations and acting like a boyfriend and girlfriend and saying, “No, you hang up!” “No, it’s your turn!” “No, I did it last time. You hang up.” “Why me? I can’t bear to do it, you hang up.” And being actually <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">serious</i> about not being able to bear it.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I remember fantasizing about what it would be like if we were sisters. Which of our parents we’d keep: your mom and my dad. What pets we’d have: Arwen and a shetland sheepdog. What school we’d go to, what friends we’d have…<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I remember teaching you piano and you teaching me guitar and playing duets together.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I remember setting up our music in a public bathroom and crawling over the stalls and sitting on top of the walls.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I remember water fights <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and the slip and slide and the crazy daisy.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I remember our yellow fellow made-up language.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I remember dropping one of those bricks on your foot accidentally when we were in the pool and you getting <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">so</i> mad at me.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I remember our constant fights about nothing and hating each other and kicking and clawing and freezing each other out only to be best friends again two minutes later, honestly forgetting our whole fight. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I remember trading off bikes as we rode to the library and seeing that creepy cat statue in the window on the way back.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I remember macaroni and sherbet and sliding down banisters at nanay and tatay’s and borrowing your clothes all the time and you taking after whatever I liked at the moment(“Immensely amusing”, high school musical, Naruto, too many bands to list).<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I remember you quoting off HP to me word for word and the old tire swing in your ravine and hiding you in my car when we were going back to the States or hiding me in obscure places in your house and you having a birthday party every year and me never missing a single one.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I’m sorry that I had to miss this one. I’m sorry that you weren’t at my sweet sixteen or that I couldn’t tell you the speech I made about you for it. I’m sorry I tried to forget about you. I’m sorry that our promise was broken of never having another quiet time and that I’m not sure anything can ever be normal again.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I would do anything to hold you again, do anything to go back to the way we were, but I am so sorry. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I love you so much.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Happy birthday, Gabby. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div></span></span>Larienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10462342017117233282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8628186206762401498.post-77409387015946515012010-07-21T23:14:00.002-04:002010-07-21T23:14:58.565-04:00Happiness Abounds'Keh, so. I had this whole angsty thing I wrote in another journal today. Was thinking about posting it. And <i>then</i> I saw my email and had a new email from my friend, Calli. Calli used to go to my school. She's actually the one who introduced me to NaNo and she's an absolute darling.<br />
<br />
Anyways. So this email was about her reading my book from my first NaNo, Beginning at the End. And it just..wow. That made my whole <i>week</i>. Her review of it made me so amazingly happy and you know what? Now? Now I do not even care about what day it's going to be in approximately 48 minutes. Now I'm just happy that someone really liked my bookLarienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10462342017117233282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8628186206762401498.post-65222158841405591482010-07-20T20:20:00.003-04:002010-07-20T20:28:59.991-04:00Late but OHEYLOOKVIDEO BE DISTRACTED!'Kay, so. I completely spaced on ever posting a blog about camp. Yeahhhh...sorry 'bout that. This is really late, I realize. So, I'm just going to post the dvd from camp that I had. It's from my week and it was a relatively small week so I'm in a lot of it, haha.<br />
<br />
Some fun bits in it is like, one of the pics Me and another girl are running down grass, blue on one side, red on the other. Yeah, that would be me being forced to race. There was no other girl on the red team that would do it, so Trevor, one of the counselors, decides that he's going to volunteer me. He was like, "GO LAUREN!" I'm like, "This is so not why I told you my name. ._." But yeah. I didn't lose <i>too</i> badly.<br />
<br />
Lessee, what else...oh yeah, FunTime was GREAT. I loved every bit of it. There was a facebook skit, haha. There were these two guys and one of them knocked on the other's door and was like, "Hi! Do you want to be my friend? Confirm or ignore?"<br />
guy 2: "Um. Do I even know you?"<br />
guy 1: "Yeah! We went to Kindergarten together!"<br />
guy 2: "Oh, yeah. *pause* You hated me."<br />
guy 1: "Yeah, but now I want to be friends! Confirm or ignore?"<br />
guy 2: "Will you leave me alone if I ignore you?"<br />
guy 1: "*pause* Nope! *says cheerfully*"<br />
guy 2: "Will you leave me alone if I confirm?"<br />
guy 1: *pause* Nope! *says cheerfully*"<br />
<br />
And then the second guy ends up accepting and they like...it was just so funny. Other people came up and they were like, Tell us what you're doing! And he was like, "Dudewhy. ._." "Because we're your FRIENDS! =D" And they threw a toy sheep at him. And did superpoke. And a guy in overalls and a pitchfork and stuff came up, and said in this hilarious voice, "DO YOU WANNA PLAY FARMVILLE?" Everyone started <i>cracking </i>up, it was great.<br />
<br />
Oh yeah, and the Mystery Mansion thing, it was set up like Clue. 6 suspects, six rooms, and six weapons although, we only got to go to three rooms, so it wasn't really a fair guess as to who killed the pig. The one guy, the taxidermist, he acted CREEPY. He like, chased us around the room and talked with a creepy voice and kept advancing towards us and the window was open, so I'm pretty sure that the rest of the camp could hear our cabin yelping, haha.<br />
<br />
Our team cheers were pretty cool! Some of 'em were the same as last year's, but I really like one new one we had. It went like:<br />
"We're awesome! We're awesome!<br />
Hit 'em in the head with a big dead possum!<br />
Ooh, ah ah! Ooh, ooh, go red!<br />
Ohhhhhhhhh, smack!"<br />
<br />
It was so funny. And another one:<br />
<br />
"This hat! Is red! You heard what I said, I said this hat! Is red! You heard what I said<br />
I said this neck! Is red! You heard what I said, I said this neck! Is red! You heard what I said<br />
I said YOUR MOM! Is red! You heard what I said! I said YOUR MOM is red! You heard what I said!"<br />
<br />
...I think we just liked screaming at the other team about their mom. Classic. xD<br />
The speaker, Tom Farrell, he was amazing. He didn't coddle you, didn't make you feel all warm and cozy in your little Christian bubble and I loved that. Sometimes all you need is a good kick in the pants.<br />
Without further ado:<br />
<br />
<object height="340" width="560"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/VHNYmCSwxpw&hl=en_US&fs=1?rel=0&color1=0xcc2550&color2=0xe87a9f"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/VHNYmCSwxpw&hl=en_US&fs=1?rel=0&color1=0xcc2550&color2=0xe87a9f" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object>object>Larienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10462342017117233282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8628186206762401498.post-74381230783982183192010-07-19T13:09:00.003-04:002010-07-19T13:11:30.909-04:00Le SighMy sister's talked to Gabby recently. Like a couple days ago.<br />
<br />
Gabby asked how I was.<br />
<br />
My sister is an idiot.<br />
<br />
She told Gabbie that I was "good but she bawls everytime she hears your name".<br />
<br />
I am so ticked. That is <i>not</i> how I want to be portrayed to <i>her</i>. It wasn't even the word 'cry'! It was....ahfielahflieahf. It made me look <i>so pathetic</i>. This is so ridiculous. I wanted my sister to answer, "She's fine, she's great, she's bloody <i>fantastic</i> without you, she doesn't need you, she has other friends, <i>good</i> friends that <i>love</i> her, and everything's just dandy".<br />
<br />
Not that I cry. *fury*<br />
<br />
Anyways. In happier news, there is a Ramsey Elementary in my town.<br />
<br />
This is amazing and wonderful. I must find a way to teach there. (Especially since it's the grades I like, around Kindergarten-2nd grade. :D )Larienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10462342017117233282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8628186206762401498.post-44007904386197266022010-07-15T15:07:00.000-04:002010-07-15T15:07:13.439-04:00Guiltmonkeys GaloreOkay, that's it, I'm sitting my arse down and writing. I've been ignoring Diary 'cause I <i>knew</i> where the story was going, but I didn't like how I was writing it so I set it down.<br />
I <i>know</i> what I want in Dare and I like how I'm writing it, but I've just been lazy.<br />
<br />
Yeah, so, the reason I'm <s>trying</s> writing those stories again is because Taylor is one of those people that inspires guilt. Not just ordinary guilt, oh no, not her.<br />
<br />
She has like..these <i>guiltmonkeys</i>. I swear, they're worse than the NaNo guiltmonkeys. It like worms down inside you and makes you squirm in your seat and look away because you're ashamed.<br />
<br />
Curse you, Taylor.<br />
<br />
I actually <i>like</i> procrastinating.<br />
<br />
*sigh* Off to go write my fantastic stories that I've been neglecting.Larienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10462342017117233282noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8628186206762401498.post-50765219786891119172010-07-12T01:26:00.000-04:002010-07-12T01:26:37.437-04:00Save For A Few Of Those Late Night EpisodesLook! A post! And I'm late! But I don't really care because I vlogged today anyways.<br />
<br />
SO! I am extremely excited about guy night. It's going to be fantastic and Zander and Hayden are going to get drunk and then Zayden will occur. This is HAPPY-MAKING.<br />
<br />
I've decided to write a ff. Just because I can't get them off of my mind. So like, I'm basing it off of Hold Me Down by Motion City Soundtrack. We'll see how it goes.Larienhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10462342017117233282noreply@blogger.com0