This Blog According to Wordle.net

Never Ever Attempt to Write a Novel

I do not like to write - I like to have written. ~Gloria Steinem
Ah! Oh, internet people, my head is bursting with plots and scenes and characters and ideas! I have the perfect novel jumping about in my brain. There are only a few problems.

Itty-bitty problems.

1) The scenes, characters, and ideas do not always match up. If I were to write down every single bit of novel inside my head onto paper, I would have about forty-nine distinct novels. Out of the many, I must choose a select few to make up my book. I am an indecisive person. Choosing what scene to put in a novel is like being at Baskin Robins. There are some familiar and comforting scenes such as chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry. They will not make your novel great, but they are very enjoyable. There are the weird flavors such as bubblegum that will

never even be seen near the novel because they are absolutely disgusting. Then, there are the exotic flavors-- these are the flavors that are either absolutely heart stopping (metaphorically) or else absolutely heart stopping (literally). They are the risk flavors such as avocado and dandelion and can raise the novel, or raze the novel. When they are all in my head, I can never decide. I like vanilla-- it might need to be avocado-- Oh crap, they're all the same color today. I hope I don't accidentally pick bubblegum.

2) Sometimes I can see the scene perfectly in my head. I see all of the emotions and actions and dialog, I just can't choose the words to describe them. Words. I do not like words. Words themselves are fine, but combining them only causes problems. <- should a 'the' go in front of 'word?' Does this sound like I'm trying (and failing) to be funny? Perhaps I should make it funny. I should make it a joke. Uh, joke. joke. The words... no. I've got nothing. Maybe I should take a coffee break...

Now I must go, I've been procrastinating but it's time to actually write now. I will finish this blog tomorrow. Also, I am suuuppperrrr tired. I slept from 5:30-7:30 this morning. So.

How Harry Potter Taught Me Strength

I never know what to write my college essay about...

"Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light."
Albus Dumbledore
Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban movie, screenplay by Steven Kloves.

People may see me walking around in my Gryffindor sweater. They may hear me talking about how I’m reading Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix for the ninth time. They may even hear me humming Hedwig’s Theme occasionally. I will be written-off immediately as a Harry Potter geek and, truly, I am. I love Harry Potter and it has been a large part of my life ever since I was seven and my mom and I took turns reading pages of SS (geek lingo for Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone). I am now writing my college essay, the “Big One” about Harry Potter. To some, this may seem to be taking a Harry Potter obsession an inch too far. I assure you, it is, but I am doing this with perfectly good reason.

I have lived all seventeen years of my life in New Orleans, Louisiana. I have lived through all of the disasters my city attracts. The most horrific to date is Hurricane Katrina. People always have that one memory of it, it may be the memory of finding out their home was destroyed or saved, it may be the memory of watching everything unfold on CNN or reconnecting with loved ones. My 'big memory' is reading Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire on the shore of Lake Chicot in Arkansas, where we evacuated to. The movie was to come out in November, so packing for the regular “three-day” evacuation, I figured I would re-read it. That ragged little book, separating from its binding in chunks, turned out to be a life saver.

Little kids need to be able to have someone to look up to, particularly during disasters. They need to have somebody say “It’ll all be alright.” During Katrina, I did not have that person. I had two parents who feared for their jobs and their home. I had a grandpa who had the news about the catastrophe blaring in my ears 24/7 while he slept. Nobody believed anything would be alright. With fears that my family who hadn't evacuated were dead and that my home was gone, I read my book to fill the time. I found something in Harry Potter that I could not find in anyone else: strength. Harry’s life was definitely not “alright.” He had disaster upon disaster happen to him. Not a single person told him things would be alright, that Voldemort would die on his own or his dead loved ones would come back and help him, yet he still charged on, he still kept his hope and he kept strong.

I reread the series twice in the months following the storm and I am nothing but glad that I did, because though I love Harry and all he has done for me, I don’t need him anymore. I have my own strength to count on. In light of disasters, such as the oil spill ravaging the Gulf Coast right now, I find myself in a much happier disposition than those around me. I find myself with more hope, with more knowledge that things will turn out. It might not be the way we want, but in a way with which we can accept.

So I wrote my college essay about Harry Potter but in actuality, I owe it much more than I could ever repay.

school > funding > teachers > sports > students > learning

This is the hierarchy of school. With one year left of high school and five schools under my belt, I believe I have enough experience in this department to have a valid opinion. This week has been a fine, fine example of this. We shall start with exhibit one:

- A fellow student at my school has been given a D instead of a C in a class because the teacher felt "she didn't deserve the C" that she had earned. I do not know how this student acts in class, but if one earns and works for a grade, one deserves a grade.

- I got caught texting (I know, I'm hardcore *rolls eyes*) in class. Ever since, the teacher has a) given me lower grades on homework assignments which are only checked for completion and which I have all completed b)given me lower classwork grades although I have been paying more than enough attention in class and volunteer to answer almost every question and d)took off 4/5 points on two problems on a test because I got the correct answer, but in the wrong way. I guess being able to solve the problem without the plugging in the formula he wrote on the board means I'm dumb. This all may seem arguable but today in class, I kept answering questions and he kept telling me I was wrong... until he "heard me correctly" or else "saw my answer on the page correctly" and discovered I was right. Automatically told me I was wrong. I was right. My grade has dropped from a 3.7 to a 3.2 because I got caught texting (though when he caught me I was only checking the time but was honest enough to fess up to texting) once out of two years of having him as a teacher.

- My cousin, along with half of her class, a week from graduating, was suspected of plagiarism and given an F on a paper which could have kept her from graduating. After interrogation, the teacher concluded that she didn't plagiarize and she was able to graduate. Really, Miss-teacher-who-accused-half-the-class-of-plagiarizing, really?

- The last event that made me question this hierarchy was when I went to see my school guidance counselor about retaking a Latin class. I am currently taking Latin I online. This means that I am teaching myself Latin. Although I have an A in the class, I get Cs on the tests and I feel as though I am getting further and further behind. It is really, really difficult to teach yourself a language using only an itty-bitty textbook. I told my counselor that I have already taken all of my language requirements and over and I am just taking Latin for fun and I would really like to retake the class with an actual Latin teacher we are getting next year. He blinked and said no. He said that the school is already bending the rules for me as I am taking two college courses next year (which someone did this year, and btw, I'm not sure how one rule can be "too many"). Also note, many students in Spanish courses have retaken a year so they would be more prepared for the next level. I asked him "So if I fail Latin II next year, I'm just going to fail?" He nodded. Let us get the scenario straight, I am taking a class, for fun, because I wish to learn. I feel as though I am not learning enough, but this doesn't matter. The fact that I feel as though I am not learning does not matter to my high school guidance counselor.

So there you have it folks, the learning system of the day. What in the world is going on?

I eat life like chocolate chip cookies

I had to write an essay about what I hunger for in life. This essay, perhaps a strikingly unusual, childish essay, is the only answer I knew would be truthful. Maybe you can find truth in it as well.

Richard Wright once said that there is a "hunger for life that gnaws in us all." It is a quote that I find resonates with many of us. Everyone has that desire for something more that wrenches at our gut, pulling us forward until we are dizzy with confusion. What is that more that we all seem to be ensnared by? If you come a little closer, I'll whisper a secret to you, I'll whisper-- or at least type in a whisper-like fashion-- to you that one thing that has wrenched at my gut so often, it's grasp is imprinted there. An Adventure.

You see, I know exactly what I want and I want it so badly that tears form in my eyes as I think of it. I hunger for an adventure. It may seem silly or pure fantasy, but adventures may sneak upon you in many different ways, from a simple, unexpected friendship to something on such a grandiose scale as discovering a continent (granted the likelihood of discovering a continent in this age is nil). People are out having adventures as you read this: people are facing their fears, falling in love (which is always an adventure), just last year, a seventeen year old boy sailed around the world by himself.

I do not yet know what adventure I will take upon, nor do I know what adventure might find me but I do know why I want one, to discover who I am. The word adventure comes from the Latin advenire which means to arrive. I would like to believe that this arrival is the nature of adventure, to arrive at the discovery of oneself. Adventures, these new and strange experiences we find ourselves having, are more often than not risky, mentally and/or physically, and which risks we take, which risks we find worth taking or not, what we truly care about or not, what morals we will stick to or what morals we never really had, tell us more about ourselves than anything else possibly could. Perhaps, that more that we, or at least I, lust after, is not truly more perhaps we are only seeking to discover what we already have.

Soooo....

So. So. So. I sit here now, in bed, on a Saturday afternoon, at 3, without pants on because I was wearing sweatpants and I got too hot but I didn't feel like turning the heater off or changing into shorts, in the aftermath of a mental breakdown. Do you know what my schedule has been like for the past month? You do not want to know because I have been taking nine classes including a college course after school and teaching myself Latin. With ten million clubs to go to but didn't have time for, applications for various things left undone, and soccer practices before our first and last play-off game that I had to skip. I spent my time with Google, textbooks, and the Golden Girls on hand as I pet my cats and stuffed myself with TV Dinners and king cake.

So, here I am now. Everything is more or less the same with the exception of soccer which *thank god* ended last night, and one would think that I would have had many nights of crying and screaming and decisions made to just flunk all of my classes, you know, the usual when I get stressed. This time though, something even WEIRDED happened. I snapped. It wasn't a big thing, but all of the sudden I started singing Disney songs in the middle of class picking out mismatched outfits, talking to smiley faces I draw on my shower and doing things like not wearing pants and fussing at my parents when they offered to clean my room for me.

Now, I do not see an end to this until May or April and next year when I start college applications, I foresee it being worse, but as my insanity increase, I promise it will at least me entertaining and that it will not effect my ability to write-- which I will try to do here again soon. Good afternoon. I must go and feed my fish and memorize all of the presidents in order.

This is the title to my blog

No excuses.

I don't really have anything to say right now, probably because I have a headache. I'm visiting my sister right now, we are watching this TV show called Intervention. Its about drug addicts and then at the end of the show they have an intervention. As you can see, its very interesting.

I also have a very bad headache, I'm not sure why, maybe I'm going through sympathy withdrawal symptoms. Surely they must get bad headaches.

I really don't understand why people start drugs in the first place, I know "their life is tough", "peer pressure", yada, but REALLY? Here is my list of comparisons

Reasons to do Drugs:

1. It is summertime and when you exhale, fog does not come out of your mouth like is does when it is cold out. As you miss pretending to breathe like a dragon, you do drugs so that smoke can come out of your mouth even when it is warm.

2. You like small crafts, rolling things up in small pieces of paper, tying bows and creating bracelets for your upper arm... drugs allow you to do these things.

3. You have no imagination and this deeply depresses you, you do drugs so that you can have an imagination and the kindergarteners no longer point and laugh at you.

4. You find pleasure in doing nothing with your life

Reasons not to do Drugs

1. You can think clearly

2. You have ambition

3. You realize that there are better ways to release stress and improve life than doing drugs

4. You can think for yourself and you don't have to do what everybody else does to be "cool"

So there you go, and yes while I would enjoy being able to breathe like a dragon during the Summer, usually it is never a top priority and I can wait until weather. So there is my blog. Apologies for being absent for two months. Happy Holidays :)

Scaredy Cat

Dearest blog readers, if you exist, I am a scaredy cat. A few nights ago I heard a tapping in my room and I ran out of it and slept on the couch. After I saw the Happening I wouldn't go outside for three weeks until I was confident enough that the plants would not make me kill myself. So last week, when I was coerced into going to a haunted house with one of my good friends, I thought I would end up either peeing on myself or breaking down and crying in the middle of it. I have never peed on myself, but I fear that I am that kind of girl; the scaredy cat. As the time drew closer to the event I became more scared but by the time I coughed up the $21.80 for my ticket I knew there would be no going back. And dearest blog readers, the line even scared me. With reason, I hope as there was a real cemetery next to the converted mortuary that was the haunted house I was going to, with reason. You know what I did though? I put on my brave face (as seen here) and walked on in:

grr.. I'm brave!

The group before us was a group of about ten teenage boys, all overwhelmingly confident before the doors opened to let us in. of course, they were chivalrous enough to live by the saying "ladies first" and let my friends and I go in before them. Somewhere between my first step into the converted mortuary and the steps to the landing where we would decide whether to enter the left door of doom (where we'd previously seen a man dressed as an evil clown wave at us through a window) and the right door of doom, I summoned up the bravery to be the first person to follow the man dressed as a creepy (butler? Ill never know, but his costume was meant to frighten) to the decision point. As I lead the group of fifteen my bravery rose and my fear was swept away. I felt adventurous as I turned to the right door of doom and continued through the haunted house and amazing because for once and my life, my sense of adventure trumped my fear and I had fun.

*sorry for the rushed end, but class is over*

Stars

I have an obsession with stars. I don't know why-- or maybe I do, I've just never put it in words. Things are usually like that, you think you don't know something but if you just take a second to clear your thoughts, you know everything... or maybe thats just me being dramatic. I'm day-time tv dramatic. The stars though, you can never be too dramatic about the stars. Have you ever been outside when everybody around you is asleep? Its just you and the stars and theres a certain magic to it. Maybe its only me, but when you look at the stars every thought seems more clear, and happy. Whenever I have a bad day if I end it with some great music and stars, everything that had been worrying me or making me feel horrible goes away. As you can probably see, I'm not much of a party-heart. I'm a dreamer and maybe thats the reason stars are so wonderful. They are so far away, not even distance wise, but the light you see is millions of years old, and at the same time, they're just right there for you. They will always be there for you, those dumb little pricks of light in the sky that don't really provide any light and disappear if a city is too big. Now, I have to go because it's nine o'clock and I haven't even started my homework.

Today I am in my ONLINE LATIN CLASS and as this is about to make my head explode, I am taking a break... actually, I'm still "doing Latin" I est in Latine. See? Latine? QUID FACIT CORNELIA QUOD DEFESSA EST? QUID FACIT?... AMBULANT! HAHAHA *maniacal laughter* HAHAHA I go it! I got in! Cornelia quod defessa ambulant! Cornelia because tired walk.. don't got it? Okay, well it is definitely break time.

I coming to you, dearest blog reader, with great news. Guess what? Guess? You can't guess? I have written TWENTY-FIVE THOUSAND words for my story. I am half way done the horrible 50,000 word deadline. *does half-way done dance* Sadly, I'm actually way behind and I now need to write two thousand words a day. Yesterday I wrote three thousand. I wrote one thousand at 1 (in 45 minutes) I wrote another thousand at six (in 51 minutes) and I wrote another thousand at eleven.... in THIRTY FIVE MINUTES! DO you know how crazy this all is? because it is SO, SO crazy. I feel like a real writer person, and you know the best thing about my twenty-five thousand words? It's too late to turn back. It is way to late to have waste a countless amount of effort on this to just quit.

Do you know what happened before my three thousand word day of awesomeness? I didn't write for almost two days. On Friday I wrote ZERO and on Saturday I wrote THREE HUNDRED. Sunday I had to kick it up a notch but I was completely stuck, I had hit the wall. Yes, I had hit the wall. You know when you run and you get to this point and its just like "if I take another step, I shall DIE. I will literally just DIE." This is what I had reached. I had reached the point where I just couldn't write. I had no idea what to write next. I had finished one story arch and when the next was supposed to begin I had no idea what to do. I just had to WRITE but just WRITING is so impossibly hard. You know what though? I broke through that wall; I annihilated that wall. I wrote five thousand words in two days (do not look up the three day novel writing competition to lesser my accomplishment, please).
I have another two thousand words to jot down in the midst of piles of homework, chores, and sleep I have left undone, a pile I have just made bigger by disregarding my latin work and writing this instead, but hey I'M HALF WAY DONE. Only two more weeks before I act like a normal human being again!

Taking a break from THE PROJECT

I'm back, and less than a week later, at that. Oh, what a week too, but that bit is for my diary, not a public blog because gossip travels very fast around my school, I know more than I need to about many and I don't want them to know more than they need to about me. Plus, its really stupid and if I put it in a blog I'd just feel silly. You know whats not silly though? Getting the answers to your American History homework from Pocahontas,
SING IT WITH ME PEOPLE!

"IN SIXTEEN HUNDRED SEVEN
WE SAILED THE OPEN SEA!!
FOR GLORY, GOD AND GOLD
AND THE VIRGINIA COMPANY!!"
Oh would my American History teacher kill me if she read thiss...

That is not what I am talking about though, I'm talking about the fact that I unknowingly did RESEARCH for my book-in-a-month project! ME! Like a REAL writer.
Let me let you in on a secret its Arthurian and guess WHAT!? It timed in nicely with my EARLY BRITSH LITERATURE class AND my kick-boxing combat class! We used poles to hit pretend people in the class! Just like I've seen in movies! Yeah, I'm an author, y'all, I do research and try to write a book in a month and other authory things. and now I must actually write, as I have to write a BOOK in a MONTH which is CRAZY

bye :)

I'm Baaccckkk... I hope

Oh my goodness, blog readers!!! I haven't posted anything in a gagillian years!!It's been, like, FIVE WHOLE weeks!Well don't worry, because I'm back. Well, I'll try to be back, blogging time is going to be scarce because I'm writing a NOVEL in a MONTH. I know. It's crazy. Hence the 'no time for doing anything but novel writing' thing. I've been working on this novel for a week now, and I have about 10,000 words. That isn't too good. I'm actually over 3000 words behind. whoops. You see, I should actually be writing it now, but I love you too much, whoever you are.

Wells, I plan on trying to record my progress here so, uhm:

10,050 words. 8 days.

Now I have to do homework and write and write and write. Pray for me!

LONDON!!! *almost*

In twenty four hours (not fiddling with time change, so if you checked your watch once an hour twenty four times, this is what I am talking about) I will be over the atlantic, just a few hours away from london. Of course, this is how I will look

except one eye may be more dialated than the other because my eyes are messed up right now (they are on steroids. but only my eyes so don't expect me to buff up). Oh, I also may be asleep because I'm taking benadryl after I watch the first not-yet-on-dvd movie on the flight.

Ah! I said the f word. You see, planes scare the crappernackles out of me. Once you are on them you are stuck and if anything happens you are doomed. I need to go now... I have to do that last-day-at-home-before-a-big-trip stuff. :))))

song:

ssoooo....

I have been doing some serious thinking. You know star gazing?? Looking into the sky at stars?? Well I decided that this is time travel. Don't judge me. Think about it, you know those flickers and twinkles you are seeing? THOSE TWINKLES HAPPENED YEARS AGO! SOME OF THEM HAPPENED WHEN dinosaurs EXISTED! At least, I think. I don't really know. So lets put this together you are sitting, looking up into the sky at things that happened in the past. ITS CRAZY!! You are LITERALLY looking into the past.



I just realized this and decided to pass on my new found wisdom on to you. I will blog again soon :))

I like to write.

I love to write. I would be very happy to have a book on my bookshelf that I wrote.

So I will show you a bitty sample of my writing:

roses are red

violets are blue

something something something

and I love

okay, so I didn't write THAT

I did write this though:

My Tooth *except with teeth s the 'o's*

my TooTh is loose! my TooTh is! Loose.! MoM,! Dad!, My TooTh is loose. can you pull it go to school. sister My tooth is loose go to class. Friend my tooth is loose go away Kate. I teenk it's loose anof. CH. 2 Mrs. Kate can I go to the Womens room. It fel out. I m geting a drink. My Mouth is hurting Ch. 3 Mrs. Kate can I saw My tooth To The Class this iiiss My Tooth I Like you and you're TooTh other tooth is ouy it fel out and other and other 4 teeth fel out but othe is loose

at the bottom there is an illustration

so you may not have realized it... but this is not recent. I wrote it when I was six. I have improved in the past ten years *please do not refer to my diary entries from "June 15" <- it was July 15* but my laptop doesn't have my writing on it. They are on a flashdrive that I am too lazy to get.

I want to curl up and dye *haha haha. joke. get it? Oh well, nevermind* right now. My parents kill me. So we've been planning this trip to London for a few months now, yeah? This is my sweet sixteen present instead of a party or anything else. Well today I asked my mom when we were leaving *sometime at night tuesday July 21* and she says "You're not going" and then both of my parents launch into a rant about how immature and undeserving I am. It eeerrrggggsss me when parents do this! They offer treats and dangle them over your head, but you know what, I'm not going to take that seriously if my mom really wants to go on my sweet sixteen present she can and I hope she has a lot of fun, a lot of guilt ridden fun. I need to go eat some ice cream now. goodbye.

Okay, sorry for that rant. But immature and undeserving? Come on! I work really hard to be good! I clean my room twice a week, I never do drugs or drink, I don't party, don't dat, I'm trying to teach myself FREAKING LATIN. I spend the majority of my free time reading and writing. I don't yell at them or throw temper tantrums when they go bizerk on me, which they....

Okay, I'm still ranting. I'm sorry, I needed to do that. It's either that or develope angry twitch. I am going to go absorb myself in Harry Potter.... and try not to drown my emotions in a nice big bowl of Ben an Jerry's with butterscotch sauce and cherries and whip cream and semi-sweet chocolate crumbled on top. AGH! I'm going to be three hundred pounds when I'm fifty, aren't I? I am going to go chew on a celery stick and read Harry Potter now. Goodbye for real.

I am a nerd :))

So it's been a while since I blogged. i've actually been blogging but my mom decided to CENSOR ME and I was forced to delete it. I still have the videos however, and i will begin again soon... probably within the next few weeks.
So I have a story. It's a movie theater story. I will start from the beginning.

So I arrived at the movie theater at four, eight hours earlier than needed. What crazy person would do this, you ask? A Harry Potter fan. Yes, I was there for the midnight premiere, all dressed up in my Harry Potter sweater and a black skirt that I didn't mean to look like a Hogwarts uniform but it did anyway. Me and my sister were the first ones there, which made me feel kind of special. I, me, Julia, was the first nutter to arrive! Well... three hours of reading and attempting not to cry whilst trying to get a head start on my Latin class I will be taking next year, others arrived. I was happy because my fellow nutters looked odder than me with cloaks and full out Harry Potter uniforms.

I enjoyed being by my fellow nerds. Isn't it great to be surrounded by people who are as crazy as you??!! I was in a theater with a thousand other people dressed as HP characters!! It was like I was in heaven! those were MY PEOPLE and I would have gladdly hugged any of them except for the weird guy who sat a few rows beneath mine and this girl from my school that I don't really like.

We were allowed into our theater at around ten and my sister and I argued for a bit about the FACT that serial killers can't get to you as well if you sit in the top row. She had us sit in the MIDDLE which is prime serial killer targeting area. After sitting there for about twenty minutes a guy beneath us suddenly screamed "RAT!" I screamed like an idiot and stood up, peering at the row beneath us. There I saw it, a small beautiful mouse that i did NOT WANT CRAWLING ON ME DURING THE MOVIE! I screamed again, but this time it was a good scream, "I SEE IT! IT'S ON THAT SEAT" I shouted while rationally pointing at it. "OHMyGOD! OHMYGOD!" We searched for it and couldn't find it. Finally, taking charge I said, "I'm going to find an employee to inform."

The only thing the employees did was laugh. Do you know how annoying that is? They couldn't find it and said 'if you see it again, tell us.' Well, a half hour again we saw it again. On my search for an employee I ran into some guys from my old school and my neighbors. That was good... the employees however weren't. "theater nineteen?" they'd asked, "we know." Finally one came and looked, unable to find it. I had a nice, logical idea.

"Do you have an extra dustpan?" I asked, "If you leave one here, we can get it ourselves next time we see it." The guy scoffed and left my question unanswers. I have one thing left to say on the matter, BOO YOU AMC PALACE 20, BOO YOU.

I did enjoy the movie, but by the end I was very tired. It ended at around 3am, so by the time I got home, I was way out of it. My eyes were bloodshot and every bone in my body felt like falling off and dying. Here are pages from my diary so you can see how loopy i was:

no comment.

Well, I will be back soon. Way soon. I promise.


6 days until i leave for london

Other recent developements:

Became Dr. Who fan
decided I will marry Charlieissocoollike
learned how to make glass beads

I MADE A VLOG

if you ever need an extra dose of Julia...
YOU CAN NOW WATCH ME WHEN YOU ARE SITTING AT HOME!!!
WOOOHOOO!!!
I have about five videos that i have taken since I decided to start blogging but I am going to wait and edit them and make them appear much cooler than they actually are before I show them to you

so here is my vlog...

okay so I uploaded the wrong one...
this makes me sad but i will now upload the RIGHT one

okay so I have about an hour...
I will be back soon

so i was gone for more than an hour but HERE IT IS
MY ULTRA COOL, ULTRA LONG, ULTRA WEIRD

VIDEO

hmmmm....

Okay, so basically I have done nothing at all for the past three weeks. Its like yesterday was three days before my birthday and tomorrow is the last day of summer. It is crazy. So what do I talk about?? If I haven't done anything, then I have nothing to talk about. I am sorry for being so dissapointing and loserish. I will put up a new post as soon as something mildly intriguing happens. Until then, I will watch reruns of the Golden Girls and fill myself with diet coke and coffee. I may even learn some latin which is twenty times harder than I thought it would be.

B**** who you talkin to! -- A romantic comedy

instead of explaining my blogging absence with a long-winded excuse, I will just post a mood-music video:


Okay, so I have a story to tell. This is the first story I've had to tell in a while except for the one about chicken sacrificing and my mom trying to kill me by embarrassment... but those are for another time.

Tonight Jamie, my cousin Ashley, this dude Mark and I went to go see the Proposal. It was a great movie and it was REALLY REALLY funny. I was kind of scared for a part of it because I was sitting next to this creepy*** guy who looked like he wanted to kill us all, but still, great movie.

Like any other romantic comedy, at the end the people profess their love for one another and kiss, except this time NOBODY was paying attention to the kiss. "Why?" You ask. Just as their lips touched we all heard this:

"Bitch who you talkin' to?!" Everybody looked down to see this girl cursing somebody behind her out, "bitch who you talkin' to?!" she said again as the kiss went on. Everybody had started staring and many of us started to giggle. "I am going to slap yo' head" the girl said, still yelling. As the kiss started to come to an end people started telling her to be quiet (including creepy guy who yelled something just as creepy as him). She did, although not before yelling, "bitch who you talkin' to" again and a few other things such as "I hate all you white people" and "I'm gonna slap you so hard."

The movie then ended and people started filing out of the doors but as we walked past her, we saw who she was yelling at (because she'd started to yell at him again). It was a skinny little kid about a 1/3 of her size. He was sitting in his chair, perfectly quiet and to be quite honest, he looked quite amused at the situation himself.

I'm sorry, but I think this was the PERFECT ending to a romantic comedy. Instead of the romantic yet ultimately boring, minute long kiss, we were treated with "Bitch who you talkin' to!?"

I sincerely hope all of my movies end with this from now on.

*** I have a completely rational fear about somebody massacring everybody in a movie theater. It is right up there with my fear of a terrorist hijacking my plane to England and killing me in a horrible horrible plane crash as I am forced to face the last hour of my life knowing that I am going to die horribly before I have a chance to live. Anyways... a movie theater is a very easy place to do that (think about it, its sound proof, large crowd that cannot escape easily, darkness, theaters don't have metal detectors... to prepare for this I get a spot in the very back and scan the crowd to make sure nobody stands up with a large gun, this way, once I duck he/she can not see me and I am free to call the police away from the major part of the violence) and so the guy next to me was breathing heavily and kept making quick motions to grab his drink and he had a scary look in his eye so I thought he was going to pull a gun out of his pocket and kill us all. I was very scared. I think I need counselling for this fear because it really scares me...

I will try to post again very soon

Uh-ohh
I didn't blog for a very long time
over a week
and now I'm blogging again.
this makes me scared
should I be scared?
Well here goes...

So I spent a week at the beach. I saw a shark, got within feet of a wild dolphin, jumped off a boat, met a bunch of very odd people, almost touched a wild stingray, dyed my hair pink, fell flat on my face once and fell on my back like a wooden plank after running into a large box another time, jumped into a pool with all of my clothes on, wrote JULIA'S BUTT WAS HERE on a seat in a restraunt and did many other things that would be interesting as a story. I will not tell you those stories right now, however. I might talk about those stories on a rainy day but I don't want to talk about them right now. Nope. Instead, I will tell you about the time I got attacked by a shark.
WHAT??!! You are asking. YOU GOT A-FRIGGIN-TACKED BY A SHARK?!!! It is true. I was a-friggin-tacked by a shark. Here is the story:

I used to work at the local aquarium. It was not great. It sucked butt. We had about twelve shifts and we were stuck at each place for an hour. I was stuck at the shark touch pool. As I was waving my hand around in the water,the shark came up, it's mouth wide open and lunged for my hand which I pulled out just in time. It swished away again after that and I had to close the touch pool down. It was a baby nurse shark... about a foot long. It could only fit my pinky in it's mouth...

I love telling people this story. I'm not sure why. Well actually, I do know why. I was attacked by a shark. The details completely change everyhing, but nonetheless, a shark lunged for my flesh, prepared to bite. This story came up about twenty times over the vacation. My friends hate the story. They sigh and quickly tell people the whole story when I say "YOu know, I was attacked by a shark once...". But I think they are just jealous because THEY weren't attacked by a shark.