My life has become a Pink song

Hey, hey?  Remember me?  Rachel?  The owner of this blog?  I bet you thought I died, didn't you?  Well I haven't.  Glory be, isn't that fabulous.

So, right now, I'm sitting backstage of our opening of I Hate Hamlet.  I was assigned props assistant, and whatever, I do stuff.  They break lots of vases.  Volpi is shirtless.  If your into that kind of thing, his shirtless hugs are kind of nice.  But he's still a tool.  And he knows he's getting nothing from me.  Except disdain.  I hand that out freely.

I'm also props masta [holla] for Sweeney Todd and I do blood and I think I'm going to have to make lots of meat pies.  And that's gross, and I can't really cook and stuff, but whatever.  I think I'm going to hold a meat pie baking party and everyone can make pies while I watch Jane Eyre on repeat or something.

I'm in Pottermore too.  It's sort of become an obsession, and my life [literally] revolves around making virtual potions.  And yes, this is sad, but it's also fun and I'm earning house points for the house cup, and yes, we're leading (with the least members, mind you,) because we're the ambitious crew.

I thought I was in Gryffindor for like, ever, and I really wanted to be that, but no, I got Gryffindor's rival, Slytherin.  I was like, "there is no way I'll be that house," and then I was sorted, and what do you know, Slytherin.  And this is J.K. Rowling's quiz, so it's as legit as they come.  So, at first, I had a mild identity crisis, like, "do I know myself?!"  And then I realized, omg, I am a Slytherin, and ya'll, it was like I truly understood myself for the first time, and now I'm embracing the hippogriffs out of it, because this is my house.  You know?  It's so clear now.  I've been changed.  Or at least I truly know who I am.  I'm selfish, but ambitious, determined, cunning, traditional, etc.  It's like, WHOA, I found where I belong.

So yes, I've felt ties to my house, and yes, I'm as obsessed with it as one would be with a sports team or something.  And yes, now I have to buy a new lanyard, because my old one is Gryffindor, and that just don't go ya'll.

I've been very anti-social lately, and you know, whateves.  It's just like, I want to be alone so I can think and live in a world where there is no one but me.  It's a phase, so don't patronize me or anything.  I'm the happiest I've been in a while, and that's really something.  I thank God for that every night.

In my arts class we have to do a performing arts piece.  I'm not real picky, I just threw out three requirements as far as I'm concerned: togas, blood and food.  That's all that maters to me really.

Oh, and I'm in pottery and I cannot throw pots to save my life and I am doing a dismal job.  But I can use a kick wheel, so that's awesome.  My teacher has dubbed me her 'Special Student.'

Yeah.

So, following on that anti social path, I also have no time.  I still read a lot, but right now I can't read.  Actually, that's a lie, because I'm on Pottermore all the time, making virtual potions.  Is that sad?  Yes.  It's so sad.  But I love it, and that's all that matters.

I wish Hogwarts was real.  Then I'd have my fellow Slytherins and we would do stuff like jump on the leather couches in the common room, and I'd learn how to become invisible and stuff.  That would be cool.

I know everyone who reads this is going to think, "Oh Rachel, her life is so sad, and she's so lonely," but seriously guys, I think I'm just basking in me time.  I'm a natural hermit with an overactive imagination, and I'm really enjoying my life right now.  I like just hanging out with me and the four cups I cannot throw on a wheel.  My cylinders - they're so sad.

So, what's happening on the boy front?  Well, I like at least a dozen.  There are two guys in pottery who try and help me all the time, but they're both engaged, and it angers me.  Just on principal.  I've reached the point where I think I want to be an eternal maiden.  I would start a club for eternal maidens and we would become archers and travel the world and climb trees and stuff.  It'd be awesome.

I have 4 cats now.  I know, you all think my life's pathways are really depressing, but I seriously love it.  Although they can be annoying at times.  Such as when they attack my feet while I'm sleeping.

So blogger.  I say adieu for now.

-Me

WARNING: COMPLAINING GRUMPY PANTS AHEAD

So, um, AH.  I am [back] in the Beam of Doctors class, and I am yet again, blogging.  I was on Spring Break last week, and I spent it doing sound [and when I say "doing sound" I mean, I pressed play on the CD player] for Happy Birthday Dr. Seuss.  Twas fun, and it was great to be apart of my third Seuss show.  Yes, third.

Right now, I am very, very overwhelmed with everything.  So much work, and the problem is, I have no focus.  All I want to do is look up videos on the internet and read books.  I've cut out books and the Sims right now, because if I don't I'll have no focus at all.  I should have worked on work during Spring Break, bhut, I didn't.

Company stuff, AH, so much.  Like, I want to like the company, I do, but all I really want to do is sleep forever.  I feel semi-sort of depressed because I sort of went to college for acting, and I've developed very little.  I should have auditioned the first time I came, but my confidence and my nerves got the better of me.  I am so uncomfortably shy, and this bothers me as well.  I know how to act, but when I know people are watching, I freak out.  Being myself is so easy for me; if you don't like me, I don't really care.  BUT if you think my portrayal of someone else or something else is weird or not right and if you judge me, it just gets me off and it bothers me. BUT if I feel like I know what I'm doing and it makes sense, then I don't care.

None of this is making sense and I really don't know what I'm typing at this point because I did nothing but write a Beam test for 5 hours last night, and although I got in bed in time, I feel like my sleep level is wayyy off.  I brought my Snuggie today so I can nap all day in the library.  But I won't get to because I have to write stuff for French.

I'm costume chair thing for the company show; I have a French Quiz Bowl I'm helping out with; I'm doing costumes for the class I'm auditing; I have two research papers; I'm in a show at school; and I don't know, I just want to die.  And when I say "die," I mean sleep forever and forever.

Tonight I'm going to play board games at Kelly's house.  I'll be grumpy and whiny; I'll warn the lot of you now.  Chris summarizes it as "grumpy pants," and he has a voice and a little jig to go with the phrase.  We went to Jessup's one night and I spent the entire night being a bear and sleeping on the floor, and I finally cried in Chris' car with fatigue.  I don't handle sleep lackage very well.

I'm going to quit typing because this is all a "I am sad, and grumpy, and tired."  Perhaps I'll write a blog later today that isn't so...grumpy.

-Me

A Course in [Bad] Make-Up

I first started wearing make-up when I was in the 6th grade. My mother has fortunately always been quite willing to compromise when it comes to make-up. The only thing I wore in the 6th grade was foundation and an eyeshadow from Clinique named 'Sugarplum.' It was purple. Yes, at 10 I was wearing purple. I know; it explains everything.


I have always loved make-up, and I probably, okay I do, wear more make-up than most human beings, to the point of often looking like a tiny gypsy. I've went through so many weird phases [Oh, hey there 80s hooker make up!]and today, I have settled on some sort of silver/black combo thing. It brings out my eyes. *bats eyelashes*




So, today I began looking at my 'make-up' morgue from my theatre make-up class. And I thought "this would be a FANTASTIC thing to share on my blog." Now, I know, you don't care. BUT, I like sharing! And especially when it includes poor workmanship and morose expressions! Soooo, TO THE BLOG!

TWO FACE

This is the Glamor/Normal face.  So I look really made up on one side and not so much on the other.  See, with 'Glamor' you want to fix all those ugly attributes on your face so you look pretty.  Yeah, I know, it didn't work.

And ya'll are right; my hair does look like a helmet.  Huh.

This is also my "I'm gonna kill you Susan for making me take dumb photos and posting them all over WebCat so everyone can see."  It's a subtle look.

This is TWO FACE in that I amplified stuff on one side and lessened it on the other.  See how my nose is really wide on one side, and really big on the other?  Or my lips are two different shapes?  I look totes disproportional.  And I'm not squinting; my make up is making me look like that.

Actually, I think this is a highlight/contour face.  See one side is light, because I used highlighter to make everything BIGGER and then on the other side I used contour to make everything smaller.

I'm such a genius.

MIDDLE AGE:

So old and depressed that I look like my mother.  Turns out I'm much better at middle age and old age NOW but, at the time I was ubber proud of this.  I always felt like middle/old age make up is the easiest for me.  As for wounds and fantasy...ah we'll see.

And please note that nose is crooked.  I would say that it is the make up, but if you look at every picture, you'll note that, no, it's just crooked.

*sigh* Only me.

OLD AGE:

Okay, so I was just bragging on my old age abilities, and this...isn't so good?  Look I was learning!  But it isn't bad!  Right?  Right?

My hair looks very, very, very bad.  But it was up or something?  Look, I'm old in this picture!  Turns out Old Age day is the most depressing of them all.  Sighs all around.

The future is scary and my nose is still crooked.

On another note, I'm better at it now:

Ah sort of.  Cheap lipstick and liver spots [of sexiness.]  Also I'm a good 10 pounds lighter here, and I'm attempting to seduce you mesmerizing grandma face.  Also, I think I like my nasolaibial folds [see: smile lines] better in the previous picture.  Then again, that's all I bothered with when I did old age make-up that time. 

Either way, I'm foxy.

FANTASY

Okay, before you see, this, this, thing, let me explain.  Susan told us to bring stuff in.  So I brought stuff in.  She had no idea what I should do so she said, "make a skeleton tree god thing."  Andd...I did.  Sort of.

I'd don't think I'd be bad at fantasy make up on a whole; but we only had about 3 different colours, and no glitter, so I was limited in my creative endeavorers ya'll.  Or I would have been a Unicorn...wait...

I was a UNICORN for Halloween.  Yes, I made my costume.  Yes, I was the only one who dressed up.  And yes, Scotty is in the back, regretting the fact that he knows me.  [Or jealous of my skills, either/or.  Yeah, it's probably that.  He wants a tail and a mane too.  I'll make him one for Easter.  Why easter?  Why NOT.]

WOUNDS

So, if you thought fantasy was bad, get a load of this.

I actually like myself in this picture, but I was very rough on making wounds.  Part of me was hesitant to experiment.  And part of it didn't make sense.  It was complicated.  You put lots of colours on top of each other and they make stuff...?  I don't gets it.  I was proud of that slash on my cheek though.

I tried getting brave.  I failed.  Yes past Rachel; I roll my eyes at this as well.

CREPE HAIR

Before I show these pictures, I have some explaining.  I will usually try anything.  I don't give up easy and I rarely say "no" or "I can't do this" when asked to try something.  I can always try, right?  Well, there was one thing I refused to try, and that was the application of crepe hair.  I HATE fake hair.  It literally makes me gag.  I tell you no lies.  When we were little Abigail would rub excess Barbie hair on my legs and arms, and *cringe* it creeps me out like EVERYTHING.  I can't, I just, I just, can't.

SO.  After having a small meltdown, Susan compromised.  I could put it on my hand, vs. my face.  I wanted to kiss her.  But I didn't, because she was wearing a fake moustache.*

I could hardly stomach it.  I couldn't look at it; I couldn't touch it.  Sure it looks rough, but I didn't care because it is disgusting and gross and I just want it off of me.  I'm getting goosebumps typing about this monstrosity.

Onward, please?

*she wasn't wearing a moustache.  But it improved the story, no?

18TH CENTURY

These aren't spectacular, because there isn't much to this sort of make up, BUT I am very sexy in my white wig of sexiness.  And no, there is NO sarcasm, because I'm for real.

Mmm, if I lived in the 18th Century, my milkshake WOULD bring all the boys to the yard.

And just for giggles, here's a picture of the class.  Beasts going to a ball to do fancy stuff like dance and have birds in our hair.  [P.S. HA what goobs.  See, I am the best.]

EGYPTIAN

This MIGHT have been my favourite because there was nothing to it.  I've been doing eyeliner for ages, so it was a simple as breathing, and therefore, unimpressive.

AND LASTLY.

FINAL PROJECT.

AKA. The worst piece of make up known to man.  See, I think in shapes.  Shapes are logical things and I see them easily.  When I draw, and I draw in shapes and then edit everything accordingly.  So, we had to take any sort of artwork and make it into a make-up piece of artwork.  So, instead of thinking some painting that is just a giant mess of swirls around my face [and therefore a fail] I choose this because it had identifiable shapes.

The woman, not the fox.  See how angular her face is?

Unfortunately, we only had one shade of blue.  SO, I had to mix my colours to get the correct shades of blue.    Mixing, and such for many hours makes any person grumpy and in the end, as the HOT lights shined down (which successfully made me sweat through every layer) I was making no progress.  So, I thus gave up and said, "just take my stupid picture, Susan."  I was getting to that whiny phase where I start crying and throwing things and WHY CAN'T I GET IT?

So, without further ado, my really, really, really bad final in Make-Up class.

DO YOU SEE THE LOOK OF DEJECTION?  At the time, I was very near the verge of tears, and Susan could even tell I needed to just call it a day.  See the way I sort of bite my lip to hold back said tears?

Today, this picture makes me laugh; a lot, because I can feel rays of failure emanating from it.  The look on my face just says everything about that project.

SO BAD.

So, friends and family, readers and pursuers, I hope you enjoyed my failures and successes in regards to make-up, and next time I open up the crypt door to my make-up morgue, hopefully I'll have something more attractive to offer.  Namely, an moustache.

Like a fake one, not a real one, because I don't have one.  Jerk.

-Me.

Liversss

So, acting II has been canceled for today; sort of happy; not looking too forward to Psychological Gestures, although it is over the top, so therefore, RAPTORISMS abound.  There is a girl in the UC who is wearing a Slytherin tee-shirt.  Naturally she also goes by the name of 'Kitty' and wears animal ears.  Oh, how our fandom is perceived.  i.e. badly.  The same people in her group are talking about Wizard Magazine being canceled.  I now see what it's like to be surrounded by me.

I don't really know what to type at the moment, except I'm enjoying Chic-Fil-A and I have a company meeting at 5.  *le sigh*  There are somethings I don't like; that company is sometimes one of them.  They screech for 'professionalism' yet I think my cat is more professional [professionally awesome, that's what he is.]  I suppose I'm supposed to feel super *connected* with the company or something, and we're supposed to be a family.  But only three people out of the 25 have actually bothered getting my phone number on the sake that they actually like me.  And I retract that, because one only contacts me in regard to homework and the other one only gave it to me so I could pass it out to girls.  And the other one is Chris, so we know how that one goes.

BUT yours truly feels bad if she doesn't volunteer for something so alack, I am house manager.  All things considering, I prefer this.  First off, I actually somewhat know how to run house, secondly this means while the show is going on I get to sit outside and read books or study french; possibly the latest HoN book if I can remember what happened in the first 7.  House of Night books and I go way back when it comes to doing WCU shows, and this cheesetastic vampyre boarding school series is so bad, but like a car accident, you can't look away.  It makes me mad though, because the puny human never wins; in fact HE DIES.  :(

Okay, so Alex gets it because she actually owns the book.  We go way back, Alex and I.  Mm, Dr. Flamez is all up in yr stuff.

This morning  I was driving and I was so cold and why can I still see my breath? The car is usually warm by the time I reach the bridge, and it was just very cold and very bad.  That usually means my radiator is acting up, but I checked the gauge and no, it was fine, and I kept going.  But still, SO COLD, so I passed the taxidermy, and sure enough there it was on hot.  So I made it to the Cullasaja BP and parked, and sat there and called my mom and went inside and looked like a moron because I kept staring at the section that housed the, um, contraceptives.  I didn't realize I was staring until later [there were q-tips and toothpaste in the section too] and WHATEVER.  I also looked at the movies.

Lucas Grabble now stars in a new sensational, 3 dollar gas station special:

You remember, Sharpay's not-gay brother who is the only one in the series who can truly sing.  Apparently, 'Food Boy' can make food appear out of thin air or something.  That's his power.  Then he battles with if he wants said power or if he wants to be normal.  To me, this is a no brainer:  first off, YOU CAN CONJURE FOOD.  Who wouldn't want that power?  Secondly, um, no packing your lunch and having soggy tomato sandwiches, because you can CONJURE food.  Thirdly, ship that kid off to Africa and feed those kids; it's like, the end all to world hunger.

Although, I'm not going to lie, I almost want to see this $3.00 DVD Gas Station special.  God knows that I dearly love to laugh, and expecially when it's at someone/something's expense.  Heck, I'll even laugh at MY expense.

My mother showed up before I could make said purchase, to pick me up, and Subaru Jim is coming to pick Sevs up.  Subaru Jim works on Subaru cars.  He is has a shabby garage and it has a plethora of Subaru vehicles on the front.  He knows his stuff though, and rumor has it that the Subaru corporation actually contacts him on things regarding them.  He also is very apt to be appeasing and take care of the situation fairly and honestly.  He fixed Sevy the other two times his radiator messed up (and that time I blew a head gasket.)

OH YA'LL.

Apparently, Sharpay is offering her, *cough* talents in an all new movie, Sharpay's Fabulous Adventure.  I kid you not.  Ya'll this, this, is bad.  And it's straight to DVD; rightly so.

Speaking of High School alums, dear Vanessa Anne Hudgens [don't get me to convay how very much I dislike her] is STARING in a new movie.  Beastly is the name, and although I do NOT like her in any way, I will admit that the 13-year-old fan girl in me is very excited for this movie.  Not to mention the guy who plays the beast might be the most handsome movie star I have ever seen.  In my life.  No lies.  I want him.

And he's British. *swoooon*

Mentioning him, they are wanting him for the lead [one is speculated; one is for sure] in the next two movie series that are alleged to be the next IT.  One is The Hunger Games by Susanne Collins and the other is Mortal Instruments by Cassandra Clare.  The former is absolutely MAGNIFICENT and I love it with all my soul and spirit.  Can I express how much I love it?  I love it more than the food it describes, the formidable mangy cat within its pages, and its heroine -  May I be you? Except, you know, without actually being you.

Alex understands, and I declare it now: it is going to be the next Harry Potter and I tell no lies; and their are no wizards!  And it's still amazing.  How is this possible?!

The other one is a little bit of a laugh in my mind.  Being as ingrained in the Harry Potter fandom as I am, Ms. Clare used to be, *cough* a famous fanfiction writer.  Of Harry Potter; or should I say The Draco Trilogy, if that one doesn't make you guffaw like a loon.  And now she's famous...?  I'd be okay with this (to some degree) if she hadn't been accused of plagiarism for her fanfiction.  It's legit too; I've read the reports. I mean, this series has the markings of everything a book shouldn't have:  author avatar, leather pants, the 'Luke, I am your father,' aspect, the fantasy kitchen sink.  And most of all, she named a story she wrote about Ginny and Ron hooking up The Mortal Instruments as well. In case you're not familiar with HP, Ginny and Ron are brother and sister.

So... next Twilight anyone?

Anyway, the beautifully handsome actor in the movie above is wanted for both movies.  Sadly, The Mortal Instruments refuses to march forward without him, and this is a travesty.  He'll stain his name forever.  Don't do it Alex, don't do it.  :(  Go play Peeta and make bread and stuff.  And let me be Katniss so we can kiss in caves.  Mmm, cave kissing.

Did I mention I think he's super hot?  He's also going to be in a Disney movie about the number four or something.  LOOK, he's my new celebrity crush and he will have a place in my heart next to Ryan Reynolds and Chris Evans.  No, not that Chris Evans.

These nerds in the UC are killing me, and my internet isn't working in here anymore.  So I'm going to go the library and print stuff and sleep and maybe buy food or something.  May check out a book, may check out a movie, or I may just be.  Perhaps see if Tommy is in the CMC.  I miss Tommy.

Oh, and turns out I need a new radiator.  Dazzling.

-Me

...and I want you to know that I love you.

Haha, threw you didn't I?  In like, 25 minutes I have Acting class, so to the blog or something.

I have Dr. Beam in the morning, so it's quite likely that I'll be blogging paying attention so I mine as well get my feelings out NOW or something.

I've been angry lately; just because I think.  So basically, there is no reason, just because.  I'm usually a pretty placent person; sort of.  Actually, I'm pretty snarky.  Come to think of it, I'm not angry, I'm just snarky.  False alarm folks!

We finally got my car out of the snow.  My iPod doesn't run long though, so I have 5 country and 1 hits station I cycle through to see if I can find something worth while. I also have 4 cassettes I cycle through:  Sunday in the Park With George, The Music Man, Act II of Cats and some sort of Beethoven cassette.

This is the life of a genius.

I'm in History of Theatre RIGHT NOW.  We're looking at picture of child actors:

Hi-o creepy.  The only thing creepier is this:

Why does it look like a troll?  Apparently this was the 80s.  How unfortunate that I missed it.

I'm sneak drinking a hot chocolate in Niggli.  Naughty, naughty.  And when I say 'sneak' I mean Dr. Beam HAS to see me, but he doesn't care.  Because he's my BFFL.  No hatin', and no jealousy, because I don't stand for that sort of stuff on my blog.

I think I'm going to start making my blogs like, have codes an secrets hidden within them.  And if you're really good at word puzzles or, like, scrabble or something you can discover my secrets.  Like this statement:

Never mind, I don't feel like making a statement.  I'm listening to Dr. Beam right now; not doing stuff like waisting my time on figuring out secret word puzzles.

So school.  It's good and stuff.  I have French 5, and it's really bad.  She speaks french the entire class, and although I can read it like everything, I do not understand hardly anything.  And then she wants me to speak French and it is simply horrid.  I insist ever class to make this the 'party class.'  And she just shakes me off, but I insist, THIS WILL. BE A PARTY CLASS.  We will make you want french.  And that's whuts up.

Oh, and I guy threw away my paper scraps and I was so swooned, but then I wasn't because he's a jerk to me in class.

I was just looking at my GoodReads account, and I have The Odyssey under my 'to-read' list.  I AM SO STUPID.

Um, I have Acting II, and it's going, um, okay?  I think of all my problems [and said problems are vast and numbered], confidence may be my greatest one.  At this point I know what's right; but I'm afraid she won't like it, or I'll do it wrong, or people'll think I'm dumb, so it's not phenomenally awesome.  But, out of all the acting professors, I think I almost like Claire the most.  I feel like she understands me on some weird level, and I appreciate her.  Now, I've only had 3 classes, so we'll see if this lasts, BUT you know, I like her.  I've liked her from Dialects and V&A, and I still like her.

My best [girl] friend just texted me the following thing:  "Do you want me to meet you in the bathroom?"

See, we have this, this, thing.  Who ever reaches our destination first has to go to the highest floor, farthest bathroom, and perch on the farthest toilet.  The second person goes and knocks on the door 3 times, and the person inside squacks.  Why we do this?  I do not know.  But I feel like I've just given away all the secrets in my life.

I leave you with news about some guy I used to know; apparently he's a model or something now.  Found this picture on Facebook, and, um, wow.

Don't think this means anything, because I am a strong woman who is highly independent and is not swayed by something as simple as a handsome picture, but I will say, I'm impressed.  Now your looks match your voice.

Huh.

Well, I'm out of History of Theatre now, and I'm done perching, and now I'm with stupid Jenny, liking the wax paper of her coffee cake.  I'll see ya'll later...

-Me

A thousand dreams crashed in one class period.

NOOOOO

I am so sad.  And you know why?  Because the French-Canadian exchange student who I've liked all semester is NOT doing the French table.  Sad, sad, sad, SAD day.  Because of my depression regarding such, I thought I saw him in a hallway, but I'm not sure...?  That guy smiled at me regardless, SO MAYBE IT WAS HIM?  Then I thought I would look him up on Facebook, and I found him, but his profile picture is him with a guy, so, um, maybe I was wrong about some things...?  But maybe in French-Canada (Whatever that is) guys are friendly to the point of being more physical...?  OMG, please don't be gay.  :(

Does this picture make you think he's gay?
...go ahead and say "yes." *sigh*

And he had glasses.  I love guys who wear glasses.

BUT, we have this guy from Haiti who is very nice looking, so I'm almost willing to compromise.  He's tall, dark, and bald. I almost like bald heads more than glasses, but not quite.  But he's in my French class as well, so he gets to see me acting like a literal idiot.  This is me in French class:

"Je t'aime.  I mean, Je l'aime.  Madam Larmon?  Est-ce, um, Qu'est ce, um, no.  I want to say, I was late, or something?  Oh and herE is les devoirs, I mean, mes devoirs, because it's MY homework.  Get it?  So, we have homework on Quia.  You know that song about Chia pets?  Well, I made one for Quia.  Qu-Qu-Quia.  Ha, ha... ha...so, um, I think this class is going to be wonderfurb, I mean, wondrous.... whatever."

BASICALLY, I'm a noob.

There is this one guy in my French class; he never looks directly at you, but he's nice, and he thinks I'm funny. I like it when people think I'm funny and not boring.  But still, I know he's a womanizer, so, that's no go.

THERE IS ANOTHER GUY, in my art class.  He is short, stocky, has a bowl cut and a beard (so essentially, everything I do not like in a guy) but he's nice and super funny.  He helped me put my magnificently large art easel up, and then he removed said massive art easel because I could not see anything.  And then I asked to borrow a pencil sharpener, and he let me borrow his, and I said, "I guess I'll need to buy one of those," and he GAVE ME ONE.  It might possibly be the worst pencil sharpener I have ever used, BUT, it still made me happy in a "I'm in the 8th grade" sort of way.  And then he asked to be my partner and he let me draw something (He's an art major), and he told me it was good (and it was).  And THEN he quoted the bible.

He's nice.  Not very attractive, and he smells strongly of cigarette smoke, but nice.  I like nice.  I like friends.  Friends.

...So basically, French-Canadian Never-Lover:  Je pleure parce que je ne te baise jamais.  Au'revoir, mon beau ami...

:( Mal jour.
-Me

"Dinner, Nagini."

So, where did I leave off?  Oh, the very dramatic [but, sadly, 100% true] story of my flat tire.  If you can't tell, I wrote that at a time when I was emotionally weak; I'm ashamed at being such a wad of sap.

But, that was an important day; the day.  The day when Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows came out.  And I know the world has been waiting on ledges to hear me speak of it.

No?  Don't careee...

So, the day before I had made shirts for Volpi, Chris and I.  All matching, except Chris had a medium that could quite possibly fit a small bear, Volpi had a small, that was a size too small, and I had a fitted female shirt because I'm a girl, contrary to popular belief.  The plan was this:

7:00 am   - Drive to school
2:00 pm   - Get out of class and head home
10:00 pm - Come to Franklin; meet up with Chris, Volpi and legion of Harry Potter nerds at the BK
11:00 pm - Head to movie theater, relish in the fact that I'm the biggest fan alive and have every one acknowledge that I'm a Harry Potter goddess, etc.
12:00 am - Squee and have seizures of glee and die forever happy.

Of course, the plan changed when 7:00 am was replaced by 'Have flat tire.'  Once Chris drove me, I was at his disposal.  He had a meeting for a film around 7:30 pm.  It hadn't been in my plans, but he wagered it would last and hour or so, so I figured I had enough time to make my plan become magic.  Run home, get shirts, come back, hang out, be admired, squees of glees.

Chris and I ate with Tommy, who was now coming with us - I've been told that I'm the luckiest female alive, always surrounded by three good looking, funny, charming guys.  The people who tell me this are obviously ignorant.  Anyhoo, the honors college was holding a Quidditch match [Harry Potter sport, played on brooms, 7 players, 4 balls, intense], and Volpsies was playing for Ravenclaw.  Chris and I headed down, then went back to the car and drove down to watch Volpi dominate the field.  It was cold and I wore Volpi's pants.  They swished when I walked.  Donald* was keeper and possibly the worst team captain to date, but he finally played Volpi who took the field and destroyed it.

The funniest part was when Volpi played against Gryffindor, every single time Volpi got the Quaffle, this one guy came out from nowhere in particular and bearhug/tackled it away from him.  Never failed.  At the end he came up to Chris, Volpi and I and said, "dudes, I think I have a concussion.  I'm a sports medicine major though, so I'll be okay.  Don't know how I got it though..."  We were like, "really?  Really?!"

Anyway, Quidditch was beyond amazing, although stupid Hufflecheats won with their gaudy Quidditch robes and massive methods of cheat.

Also:

RAVENFOOT...HUFFLECLAW!


So, after the game, Chris and I went back to the library to thaw and I waited for him to finish his meeting, which is supposed to be over at 8:30.

8:30 pm...
...9:30 pm?...
...10:00 pm...!!!

Ya'll, I was in shambles.  I couldn't do anything.  All I could think was my plans, my beautiful plans.  My mom would call and I would momentary whine, "MOM, THIS IS LIKE MY PROM!"  Chris would text and say things like, "...this is going to last a while."  And I wallowed in self-pity and anxiety on one of the stiff couches in the CMC.  Tried to nap; impossible.  For once though, I wasn't mad at Chris.  It wasn't his fault; he informed the director he needed to go, and she was the one who said, "yeah...no.  Lets take a field trip!"


Eventually, he finished and he picked me up outside after he had circled campus at least three times looking for me.  I micromanaged my schedule in my head - change of plans:
10:30 pm - drive home.
11:00 pm - rummage through drawers, obtain Harry Potter gear for wearing, grab Volpsies and Chris' shirts, grab Starbucks mocha coffee drink, contain excitement.
11:15 pm - drive back to theater, and don't obtain second flat tire.
11:45 pm - arrive at theater
12:00 am - die of delight/seizures of glee

I made it around 11:45, with everyone and their house elf calling/texting me (apparently everyone understands this was my prom as well) and I parked my broom and ran inside, all a tither, excitement flushing my face.  They took a picture of me looking amazing:


This is a photo of me looking amazing

And I went to sit with Volpi and Chris.  Tommy showed up [eventually].  The boys hesitated with their shirts, but sighed and agreed, yes, we shall wear them.  I was surprised when Volpi said they were a lot cooler than he expected.  Which makes me wonder what he expected...

At this point my arms were spazzing and I was having 'nerdfits' as Chris calls them.  Volpi was telling me to calm down, and Chris was saying "I tell you no lies,Volpi," and Tommy was just as mellow and disconnected as usual.  But me, I was ecstatic.

So, after staying up until 2 in the morning, and having a day of self-wallowing and mascara running shenanigans, I supposed, I have opinion on the movie, and here it is.

Things I liked:

• The Ministry of Magic scene.  It features the Trio under disguise, and the three actors who played them were hysterical.  Easily made the movie worthwhile.  I've always enjoyed seeing the Ministry of Magic; I feel as if one of the most visually appeasing experiences on screen.  Not to mention, that scene had nice pacing (and it may have been the only nicely paced piece.)
• The way the tent was illuminated.  I loved it.  I thought the camping landscapes were beautiful.
• Snape's hair.  He must have busted out the Lo'real, because it was phenomenal.  Snape has went from that greasy hair guy to best hair in the movie, even out stepping Lucius, which is a feat.
• Actually, all the Malfoy manor scenes were golden.  It was the only time I truly empathized with anyone in the whole movie; it was real ya'll.  Voldiepizzle was there, and he dominated.
• Did I mention I find Voldemort to be quite possibly the sexiest beast of the franchise?  I was beyond overjoyed that he had ditched the V-neck flow robes and had graduated to high-neck collars.  Although he would be beautiful in anything.  Except his underwear...maybe.
• When Fred went to George after his ear was blown off.  The way he moved, the way he looked; authentic, real and tear jerking.
• Actually, add the part when George puts the toothbrush in his ear, or lack there of.  Giggleplex squared.
• I also appreciated the downplay of Harry/Ginny.  I hate 'em.  And regardless of it's presence in the book, it's one of the few things I dislike and the less the better.  Not to mention, Bonnie Wright acts like a statue. Mainly referencing the awkward stiff kiss in the Room of Requirement of I-don't-know what, but what?
• Luna's dad was awesome.  Not how I imagined, but I do not care, because he was awesome (and oddly attractive; I have weird tastes).  I thought his scenes were beautifully done, and his intentions were well understood, and I was rooting for him despite his betrayal.
• The Tale of the Three Brothers sequence.  They should have had Xenioius (sp? don't care, too late, want to sleep) read it because he would have sounded bloody awesome with his accent, but whatever. It was visually solid.  If they did the entire set of tales this way, and made a mini film or something, I would die of bliss.
• Dobby.  But, I wouldn't have put this on my list if it wasn't for Chris and Volpi bringing him to life with their squeaky cockney accents and continual use of 'Mr. Pot-er.'  We spent approx. 30 minutes after the movie doing nothing but impersonating Dobby, and regardless of the fact that I dry heaved my way through his death scene, I laughed like a ghoul.

Things I didn't like:

• One name:  Emma Watson.  First movie, she was brilliant.  Hermione to a T.  From then on, she evolved into I do not know what, but it wasn't Hermione Granger.  As the hair evolved, he character evolved.  She became the 'hot girl,' vs. 'the pain in my Azkaban.'  What I always liked about Hermione in the books was how much I didn't like her.  She wasn't agreeable, she wasn't attractive, but her imperfections made her real.  Every time she was on screen, I thought, "what is this, Hermione Granger and the Deathly Hallows?"  Golly.  First scene, do you think it was Harry?  No.  It was Hermione wiping her parents memories.  Okay, so this happens, BUT we do not see it as a reader, and it was so overly dramatized it almost stopped the nerdfit I was experiencing.  I feel as if she is essentially flawless in her character on screen; she's beautiful, smart, loyal, bad A...and not bossy; not insufferable.  Before you tell me 'yhes, but she has changed from 1st year Hermione.  It's called 'character development' Rachel," I'll tell you to shut you mugglelovin' mouth and don't make me whip the series out and show you, point by point, that deep inside, Hermione remains an insufferable know-it-all.  And you know, I don't completely blame Emma Watson.  She was young when she was casted, and unexperienced actress, taking the directors cues.  Also one of the few who hadn't really invested in reading the complete series.  That right there was the mistake.  You cannot, cannot, cannot create your characters based on the piece of garbage Steve Kloves tries to pass as a screenplay.  I blame him more than anyone for every moment of failure within Harry Potter movies.  I suppose his logic is that girls have someone to relate to.  See, this is how it works:  Harry is your boys idol; Hermione is suppose to be the girls.  Instead of breaking gender roles, making Hermione ugly but empowering, we must fill our social gaps and make her gorgeous and likable, therefore like every other female heroine.  asdfjk;l Look, I don't know, but I do know that anger courses through me and I might be bursting some magic from my fingertips and blowing a hole through my keys.  May we move on?
• Following on the Hermione train (this is a repressed argument that I've been harboring for years) I am so sick of Harry/Hermione.  From book 1, I tell you, BOOK 1, I thought Ron and Hermione, forever, forever.  As I dragged through Harry's angry tirades in book 5, all I could think, "it may be worth it if Ron and Hermione at least, like, look at each other that way."  Book 6 comes out, and Jo says something along the lines of, "Pretty sure I made it pretty darn obvious-anvil size hints obvious-its Ron and Hermione."  DH was amazing.  Angry repressed emotions, we finally see Ron show an obvious desire for Hermione, and Hermione likewise.  That said, every single one of Ron and Hermione's scenes seemed cut short and devoid of emotion whereas Harry and Hermione's were like, RAWR WE'RE BEST FRIENDS RAWR LOVE ALL OVER EACH OTHER, OH SUP RON, YOU BEHIND US, K, YOU KNOW WHAT, WE'RE GOING TO LOVE ALL OVER EACH OTHER, HERE HAVE THIS WATER HARRY, OH ARE YOU THIRSTY RON, YEAH, WHATEVER HARRY'S THE CHOSEN ONE.  No wonder Ron was like, "Peace out and good evening."  And when Ron and Hermione did have scenes, it's like, I've seen Harry and Hermione together for so long at this point it doesn't even make sense for Ron and Hermione to be together.  I almost shipped H/Hr in this movie; and that is saying something because I've been adamantly against it for years.  There were wars against this atrocity.  If you like it, go for it, but in the movies go for canon and drop your sick H/Hr fantasies of having the 'hero' end up with the 'heroine' (although she isn't even 'the' heroine, but a sub-heroine or something like Ron is the sub-hero) and whatever else that cliche holds.  LETS MOVE ON.
• The pacing.  Regardless of the fact that everyone thought HBP was teh devil because it wasn't true to the book, all I have to say to that is, after movie 2, which one was?  I gave up on having an authentic HP at movie 3 when Alfonso came along and vomited all over the series and spewed whatever that was.  That was also the beginning of the transformation of Hermione, but my anger at the third movie and everything it brought forth is so overdone that I don't have the spirit to talk about it.  Anyhoodle, back to the topic, I will say this for HBP:  I was entertained.  There wasn't a moment when I was like, "Two and a half hoursss..."  This happened, this happened, this happened, and although it may be pushy and quick, at least it had me on my toes.  With DH, I found myself craving for some sort of speed.  Woods, woods, we find out one fact, woods, woods, woods, fact, woods, woods, OH WE STEAL A HORCRUX, woods, woods, doxyturds, we can't destory it, WOODS, WOODS, WOOOOODS.  In its defense the book was similar; but this is a movie, and if I want to read the book I'll dedicate 3 days to do so.  I come to the movie to get a pleasant visual summary in 2 1/2 hours. This movie was so tedious, no wonder George stuck that toothbrush in his ear.  "Just trying to defuse the tension."  AT LEAST SOMEONE IS. And although I appreciate its authenticity to the book, I wish they had been more authentic about things such as character development and, look, I don't know what I'm trying to say because it's 10:30 at night and past my bedtime, so in summary it was slow, and I don't know what I want.
• I will say I hate Helena Bonham Carter beyond reason.  She takes Bellatrix and makes her into I do not know what.  There is crazy and demented and then there is that.  I saw an HP interview where she said, "I try and do whatever I can to get the most screen time," or something along that lines, and I've hated her ever since.  Like, seriously?  Isn't staring in every Tim Burton movie for the rest of your life enough screen time?  Can't you just play Bellatrix properly, read your source material and be authentic?
• Bill Weasley.  Not so much the actor, but the principal. " 'Sup, I'm Bill's Weasley.  Never mentions me, until now, eh?  Well, they have to have the wedding; it's a plot point.  Not to mention, with all the flannel Hermione will be wearing in that tent, they have to have her stuffed in some sort of dress.  Like my scar, eh?  Came from a werewolf.  You see, in the 6th film there was supposed to be this epic battle at Hogwarts, but they cut that to have some weird Death Eater party crashing at the Burrow." Just, arghwlkerwpoiure, whatever.  That and Bill on that thestral...
• Daniel Radcliffe and his body hair.  Didn't we have enough of that with Robert Pattinson in New Moon?  Wax that stuff.  Body hair isn't attractive; and seeing Harry as hairy...just too much.  On second thought, I'd rather see Voldemort in his underwear.  At least you know he's hairless.
• That effing goblin.  The second that thing came on screen I busted a spleen (before you say anything, I have four).  What was that?  You have the 1st movie where they look like creepy old goblins or something, and then you have the 3rd where Flitwick doesn't look like a goblin, but a mini version of Hitler with a bowl cut, and then you have WHATEVER THAT WAS.  It was so angry looking.  And hysterical.  I just, I don't know.  Nothing against Warwick Davis - he plays the 500 midget required roles within the Harry Potter with finesse, but I'm still left pondering, what was it?
• For the sake of all things bright and beautiful, get Dobby out of that pillowcase, and those shoes that probably have images from Disney Pixars Cars on them.  What was that, Velcro straps?  Clothes are the mark of a house elf's freedom.  Not shoes.  Get with the program and give him some lumpy hats.
• I wish Hagrid would die.  He never does, and it's such a disservice.  That is all.
• Tonk's hair.  For someone who can change it at will you'd have thought she would have went with something other than that.  I thought she had skinned Mrs. Norris and had made a molting mullet.
• You know, I hate Lupin in the movies.  I disliked him when he showed up with that furry creature on his upper lip in the 3rd, but this one he goes too far.  That moment when he's so bloody angry; he makes Dumbledore and whatever "DIDUPUTURNAMEINTHAGOBLEOFFIAHARRY?!" *angry shake of this is so out of character* look tame.  I wanted to slap the werewolf out of him.  If I had been Harry I would have stupified him and his wife's mullet and put them both into that vanishing cabinet, and then I would fireblaze the room of requirement and Borgin and Burkes and then I would say, WHAT NOW, MR. 'ARE YOU HARRY POTTER.'  I AM HARRY POTTER.  ARE YOU REMUS LUPIN?  HOW ABOUT NOW?  NO, YOU'RE NOT BECAUSE YOU'RE DEAD.  HAVE FUN WITH DR. FLAMES, YOU AZKABAN.
• Oh and this: "PS. Moody's dead."
• H/Hr shippers finally get their dream with a naked make out session between Harry and Hermione.  I just felt nauseous.  

I just, I don't know.  But, I think, after 384 pages of rambling, I know what I want to say.  Everyone loves this movie because it's authentic to the book.  You look at the books, and you say, okay this happens, and then you look at this movie and... it happens.  It's fairly spot on.  BUT, what I don't like is, although they've finally got the whole story thing down pat, is the are lacking in authenticity of the characters.  The Voldemort and Co (minus Bellatrix), Snape, Hagrid, Dobby, Luna, McGonagall, F&G:  Brilliant.  Spot on.  But everyone else is like, "source material, what...?" that I just give up.  It all happened when Dumbledore became a hippie and from there it went downhill, so I don't know what I expected.  Blame it on the hippies.

That's really it; Character development is lacking.  You've taken actors who have interpreted the characters on paper, and that paper isn't the book.  Anne Fay and I discussed this today and I'm glad someone understood.  This is how it is; I've watched the movie, and instead of seeing my favourite characters that I read in a book do stuff I care about, I saw a bunch of people I don't know doing stuff I care about.  They're are exceptions of course, such as Voldemort and Co, Snape, McGonagall, F&G, Dobby, Hagrid (as much as I hate him, he's spot on).  It was all very detached.  And really, it's been leading to this since movie 3, but now, it's so obvious that this isn't Harry Potter.  It's a bunch of actors telling the story of Harry Potter.

To be honest, the only ones who bring it are the Death Eaters (Minus Bellatrix) and they make you want more.  Heck, at least Voldemort knows what he wants and goes for it, even if it means grave crashing.  That and "Nagini.  Dinner."

Too harsh?

Of course, everyone else thought it was amazing, and no doubt everyone is going to comment me on how I obviously have no love for Harry Potter and to stop being a cynical muggleshover.  No doubt this my opinion; if you loved it, I am so very, very happy for you.  That's great.  As for me, I'll stick with the movie in my mind.

Heres hoping part two floors me.  As long as they play Snape's memories as authentic, and as long as they pick a decent actor to portray him and Lily, I will die a happy death.  That and if Voldemort rocks it.  Wait...

Voldemort always rocks it.

-Me

After whatever this saga is, here is the reference to the star way above next to Donald's name:

*whom I have never mentioned, but I may as well now.  Donald is a theatre major, but a bitter one.  This is Donald:



He writes plays.  They are... unique.  He's nice from time to time, but very bitter.  He's so bitter now that I think he's going to go into the professional business of trading Magik and Yugio cards.  We did tech together on Almost Maine many moons ago, and he tried to attract me.  As in he would put me on his lap and it was beyond creepy.  Nowadays, he leaves me alone on this aspect, and from time to time, I enjoy his company.  Among a mixed group of friends.

The Drama of the Flat Tire

So, this is a story, a semi-epic story that includes me, Chris and me doing something wrong that has to be promptly corrected by Chris.  Chris, yet again, sacrifices something to come to my aid, while I sit in the corner and cry hysterically, not being of much use other than making background noise.

It starts like this.  It was late last night, and I am driving on the road.  I see this giant pile of what I think to be sand on the side of the road, but instead, it is a large chuck of what I can only guess is concrete.  It looked something like this:

My stupidity led me to run straight over it with my back tire.  I had a few reactions, at the very loud noise that was emitted.  I thought I had died, I thought my car had died, and that my tire had died, but I pressed onward, just to be sure.  SOMEHOW.  I managed to get up the gorge and home, and after the first bought of noise, I thought, all was good, because I didn't have any problems.

The morning rolls around, and I have my 8 o'clock class with Susan.  I go to Sev, and as I'm turning, I swerve all over the place.  I chock it up to my alertness in regards to driving.  It's 7 o'clock, I'm tired, Harry Potter is tonight (!), perfectly explainable.  But, I'm cautions.  After a few more swerving issues, I finally make it down the mountain and I'm on my way to WCU.  Then, I hear this horrid noise, I feel the car going down, and near the Drake building, I pull over.

I knew what has happened.  I knew since yesterday, that I was destined to have a flat tire.  How this didn't happen until 12 hours later, I do not know.  The smell of burnt rubber was everywhere, and I stepped out and looked.  So while I stand out in the cold, bawling, slumped in submission and racked with despair, suddenly, my knight in his tacky Tubes tennis shoes appears.  His first assumption is "Rachel has ran over a cat; I'll never see the end of tears."  But he was wrong.

I run to him and sniffle out that I have a flat tire.  We go and look at it and he asks questions, and I reinstate all the above, in between dramatic sobs.  I tell him to go on; we have Susan's class and I'll figure out this tire thing.  As I slowly bring out a diamond looking metal thing, I ask "I use this, right?"  He shakes his head and tells me there are 2 more parts.  I continue to persuade him, "Go on.  Just leave me behind.  I'm not worth it.  I was made to suffer."  And he almost does.  But the fact that I look something like this:

Makes him say, "no I can't leave her."  So, he sets out, on his mission, and we find the thingie that takes the nuts (or bolts, I don't know) off and on, and the thingie that cranks the jack up, and he talks me through it.  I'm still in hysterics, but I explode when I hit my head on my hatchback.  I begin to do that thing where I breath very fast but the air doesn't quite reach my lungs, so I begin retching for breath, and Chris has to say, "calm down Rachel, calm down.  It's just a flat tire.  Calm down, CALM DOWN.  Get a hold of yourself."  I'm so cold and all I want is to die along with my tire.  He takes it off after a lot of elbow grease ("why are these so tight?!") as I watch with eager, tear-stained eyes.

Eventually, Chris gets everything in order, and he drives behind me as we go to the tire place, and I drive cautiously.  The hole in my flat tire is literally large enough for Chris to stick his hand through, and we wonder how I managed to go on it for so long.  We leave it at the tire place (my mom has set everything up) and Chris drives us to school, and we are able to make it to Jazz.

The moral of this story is that I have learned two things:  A. I have to learn how to take care of myself. and B.  Chris isn't a total jerk, and I owe him, yet again.  It only took a flat tire to learn this.

And I probably shouldn't run over giant blobs of concrete.  

-Me

Sometimes I dream that I'm an ice cave explorer

I keep writing blogs and I keep not posting them because they are very large and I don't really feel like finishing them at the time, but I have so very much to tell the world, mostly boring stuff, but still, it's important.  Because I think my life is interesting.  That's why I even have a blog.  [Speaking of which, I'm thinking of changing the name to 'Cheese in your Raychillie.'  But, it's been 'Rachel is Outrageous' for so long it almost feels like a sin to change it.]

Stupid education majors are in my CMC taking up my computers and talking loudly on the phone and talking to their boyfriends and sharing emails.  I hate when people talk to their significant others in front of you, but only when they become very silly, and speak in goofy voices and call each other 'baby.'  And you feel awkward watching them, and you just sit there feeling awkward, but you're in an elevator so what else can you do?  It's so dumb.  People are dumb.  I hate people.  One day, I'm going to go off and live in a colony of wizards and cats and I'll be so happy.

This girl put all her stuff on my computer table too, and it's like a bag of chips and some notebooks, and I thought the object of having your own computer desk is to put your stuff on.  Education majors; all they do is think about themselves and children.  Why do they even have their own section in the library?  It's literally a whole floor dedicated to children and education majors.  Everyone else's books are downstairs; what makes you so special?

For Susan's class we had to design a costume.  It had 500 different pieces of criteria:  it had to be made out of things either recycled or natural, it had to support a cause and it had to make noise.  I did a pelican suit thing for the birds who die in oil spills or whatever, because it's important.  It's also has an interpretive dance where you dance like a bird and then oil comes down from the celling and the bird dies because it cannot fly, and it's sad.  I would invite children to this piece so the would cry and I would laugh at their tears.

I had to do my bird dance for the class while I was presenting it.  It was very sad.  Not because it was about birds dieing, but because it was me trying to dance like a bird.

But seriously, 5,000 barrels of oil leak into our oceans each day.  This is why I petition that my quest to make algae into fuel will never end until it is made.  And when I say 'my quest' I mean others efforts because I am not contributing at all.

Blast it all, I can't concentrate on anything because of these people talking about lesson plans and stuff.  Just give them some crayons and a place mat.  Gah.  I'm supposed to be writing a paper on photography, and I can hardly even concentrate on this blog because they won't shut up about lessons and babies and ARGH.

What am I even typing, I dunno because my brain is like a ping-pong ball in my head, except my brain is bigger than that and isn't bouncy (that I know of; but possibly.)

Sometimes I wonder if I'm mentally handicapped, and I don't know it.  I know that sounds mean, but how would you know.  I might just have some social disease, or be autistic, but I would never know it.  I had a seizure once, and it lasted for 20 minutes, and it could have been the mentally handicapped part coming out an d playing, and it's frightening.  These are the thoughts that rack my brains.

I wish you could hook up your brain to a printer and then I would print off pictures that I imagine like pictures of turkey's wearing feather boas, and taking this girl's chips and crushing them and pouring them over her head and then I would laugh and then I would write my paper on photography.  Instead, I'm writing this and wasting everyone's time by putting incoherent stuff that no one wants to read, and I'm pretty sure everything is a run-on sentence.

I would also like to print my dreams.  I have really odd dreams.  Once I dreamed that I was visiting the house of polygamist, and I was like, WHOO, I'M A FREE BIRD.  I DANCE AND STUFF.  And the children were all like, "we wear matching pajamas and we love our daddy and mommies, and we all play instruments and have bunk beds."  And I'm like, "rebel," and they're like, "no."  And then the dog starts talking and he talks about how he could talk through this vaccine, but when humans take it they turn into zombies, and then they cursed the house, and the dad was trying to round us all up so he could eat us and he had all sorts of bowls to put our bodies in, and  I was like, "um, bye."  But I couldn't get out because the porch was screened in and he had cut the dogs tongue out, but it was leading me to safety, and Justin Timberlake was there and then he was gone, but somehow I jumped from the porch into the grass and I ran and then I woke up.

I also have dreams where I'm an ice cave explorer.

We had ballet today, and I've finally stopped hitting Chris, but now he won't stop hitting me and it hurts because he flips me.  He had some really nice turn things today, but I didn't because I don't know how to turn.  She keeps telling me to spot; I keep saying, I should probably actually learn the turn first so I have a reason to spot.  Chris can't keep his hips straight and he looks like an idiot because she has to tell him to put his hips straight.  He blames it on his eye, or lack thereof; I blame it on his lack of ability regarding dancing.  We're dance partners as well in our little piece, and we have to hold hands.  (Ewww, cooties.).  Luckily, his aren't gross and sweaty; because I hate sweaty hands.

Our ballet class is really rather amusing.  It's a class of people who are generally bad a ballet, so we've resolved to just have fun with it.  We have all these codes we use in class.  When we have a passe to the side, we say that we're putting it in the pizza pocket.  When it's to the front, it's the pita pocket.  When we're doing our plies we kebab our butt cheeks and pretend like we're in a toaster, and you don't want to burn your sides.  Then there are the songs we sing to remember our barres.  "Coupe and Passe, Coupe, Fonduuuuu..."

This is college, ya'll.

[Pee.Ess.  December 8th, Recital Thing.  Breeze.  6 o'clock.  See us make dance magic.]

After much, much, much persuasion, I have convinced Volpi and Chris to come see Harry Potter with me at midnight.  I'm making us matching shirts; I'm going to guilt them into wearing them.  They don't know it yet.  I also had them sorted into their houses yesterday, because this is one of those things you need to know.  Chris is in Ravenclaw and Volpi is in Slytherin.  I'm a Gryffindor.  Just imagine; if we went to Hogwarts, we may not even be friends.  :(  :(  But maybe we would be.  I'm sure both Volpi and Chris would play Quidditch; and... I wouldn't.  I would probably be apart of some stupid club like Gobstones or Wizards Chess.  Actually, Chris would be in his 5th year of Hogwarts just as I was starting my 1st, and Volpi wouldn't be in Hogwarts until I was in my 2nd year, and Chris his 6th.  And Volpi and I would be enemies because we're in rival houses.

It's thoughts like these that remind me that I'm glad that I don't go to Hogwarts.

I had my dialects test Monday and everyone was impressed with my Cockney and Irish accents, including Claire.  I was told today that Claire would try to break me in Acting II.  I should just go in crying the first day and get it over with.

I need to write about photography now.  Hope your days are bright and a squadron of minks warm you in the middle of the night.

-Me