Saturday, June 30, 2012


     I have a dog. His name is Casper.  It has been 23 days since I have seen my baby. He's been with me since he was a puppy two years ago and I want him RIGHT NOW. I miss my dog. Only six more days and then I can see my baby again.
     You know, out of everything I could miss about West Virginia it's my dog that I miss the most and am pinning to see. Sure. I miss my mother. Sure, I miss my brother.  Sure, I miss my many books. Sure, I miss my cat Spice. I love Spice, but she's a cat and makes me sneeze. Sure, I miss my horses, Patriot and Zip. Sure, I miss my friends.  But out of all that, I miss my dog. I want to see my dog. I want to hug my dog and I want to yell at my dog because I know he's going to lick me despite how much I hate being licked. I miss my dog.

        How could you not miss this handsome yellow lab? This faithful companion? This magnificent creature that he is! (Photo Credited to Suzanne Dye)
   Anyway, I read a new book. Fixing Delilah by Sarah Ockler.  It was fantastic. I read it all day. Literally. I started reading at 11 a.m. and finished reading around 11 p.m. Seriously, it's a good book. If you're into Sarah Dessen like novels that it is, then you should definitely pick it up.

Monday, June 25, 2012

Twenty Days.

     That's how many days it's been since I last posted.  I suppose I should feel bad, but I just haven't had anything to write about.  I said I read a lot during the summer and I do, but this summer is different.  This summer I've been reading stories from the internet that young aspiring authors have written. And I must tell you, I'm impressed.

     Some of the writers are very good at it and can obviously do a wide variety of genres.  I'm in awe of them, and then I see shit.  Just absolute shit that some people try to pass on as work.  And I suppose I should take mercy on them because they are novice, but I feel none.  When you have a finese for something you have it and when you don't you don't.

P.S. Don't mix sleep aids and alcohol.  JUST DON'T.

Tuesday, June 5, 2012

Five Chapters In.

     Five chapters in and I still don't know what to think of Death Comes to Pemberley by P.D. James.  I'm pretty particular when it comes to spinoffs of previous works. And when it comes to Miss Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy I am uber particular.  They are possibly my favorite couple from a book and I want their essense to be exactly like it should be.  And I can't tell if P.D. James has accomplished that or not.
     Alas, it is a murder mystery of some sort so it is to be expected that things are not as they seem and characters are not as they should be, but still don't mess with Miss Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy.  The author seems to put a lot of useless information into the story, I'm worn out just trying to sort out everything she has included.  And believe me it is a lot.  And it's only been five chapters! I can't begin to imagine how the next... damnit.  This is one of those books where they restart the counting of the chapters because there are parts to the book. 
     Yes, I know how ironic that is for me to say because the same thing happens in Pride and Prejudice.

Monday, June 4, 2012

3 A.M.

     It's three in the morning here on the eastern side of the country and I should be sleeping.  I tried sleeping, apparently it didn't agree with me tonight. 

     I'm a slight insomniac you see.  Sleep hasn't been a very easy thing to achieve or maintain these last couple of years for me.  So I tell myself stories.  Usually stories that originate from a book or television show that I eventually make my own.  And thus sleep never comes because I get myself to caught up in my own story.  I hate that.  I just want to sleep, but no.  I'm on here. And previously Facebook.  And I'm trying to add some photos from King's Island to my virtual collection on my computer, but it's making me reinstall everything for some God awful reason. sigh.  I'll show you all some once I get everything sorted out.

    Oh!  I'm flying out for rest and relaxation on the ninth! That's a lie.  I'm probably not going to get to rest or relax because I have an adorable little cousin who wants to play with me all the time... Oh well, I don't mind.  I love her so it's okay.  But after a week I'm flying to Texas for two weeks, halleluiah! I miss my home state.  It holds my heart.

Monday, May 28, 2012

Just a Moment.

     Just a moment.  That's all I have right now.  Ever since Friday morning I've been going.  Finals all day during school- which I passed with flying colors by the way.  I have been home since Friday morning.  I spent the weekend with a very near and dear friend of mine.  I met people left and right Saturday and Sunday.  Today we went to his home and rode four wheelers and visited another friend.  And then I was taken to town to spend a few hours another friends house until one of my favorite people in the world could pick me up and take me home.  Our friend tagged along and then we had a good hour and a half visit until they left and now I'm writing a post at 9 o'clock at night  because I haven't have a moments rest until now.  Feel special, I'm spending it talking to you.  I have to get up at 3:30 tomorrow morning and then leave at 4:30 that morning for a school trip to an amusement park.  Feel special.

P.S.- I lit my face on fire during chemistry class.

Monday, May 21, 2012


     I've come to the conclusion that I can't pull a post out of my ass everyday about a book.  It gets a little confusing when you're posting about books that you've previously read while you're reading a completely different book.  So in the end the post about books will be not on a daily basis.  That's to much for me.  Especially right now with finals coming up.  One more week and then I'll be at King's Island for summer break.  Two more weeks and I'll be in Florida.  Three more weeks and I'll be in sweet sweet Texas where I can absorb books by the dozen.  But in the time between I start a book and finish a book I'll post amusing pictures or random thoughts.

     Sound nice?  It better because you're not going to get much more from me.

     In the mean time enjoy this picture:

     P.S.  You should go to the following website and vote for my cousin Anya!

Thursday, May 17, 2012

It's Been a While.

     I have been super busy with the final weeks of school and hadn't had time to read much and so I didn't exactly have anything to post.  But it being the standardized test week I've been able to catch up and finally get to something that's been sitting on my bookshelf for several months now.  What could it be? Hm... I wonder...

     It's Miss Peregrine's Home For Peculiar Children by Ransom Riggs.

     Did you know birds can time travel?  I didn't either until I read this book.  The story takes you through the normal everyday life of Jacob Portman, the grandson of a Polish Immigrant who lived a miraculous life.  The story takes sudden turn to the paranormal when his grandfather Abe calls sixteen-year-old Jacob at work, hysterical that something is after him and he can't get into his gun cabinet because Jacob's father hid the key for his safety.

     Ever read a book where they describe someone and you wish they included a picture of said person?

     Ransom Riggs was so kind as to place pictures throughout the story when he introduces a new peculiar child to Jacob's life.

      This probably seems vague and uninteresting, but this is one of those times where I just don't want to give anything away. Please, just take my word for it when I say it's worth it.

Tuesday, May 1, 2012


      I have come to the absolute conclusion that all biographies are dry.  I don't care if I haven't read every biography in the world, they are all boring.  Every single one of them.  I don't care how close minded that sounds, it's my opinion.  I read George W. Bush's biography- I know, I know- and let me tell you, that was one of the most boring things I have EVER read.
     I've even read a biography on a fictional World of Warcraft character- STILL unbelievably dry and boring.
     And yes I'm aware that only two biographies should turn me off of them forever, buuut they have.  So. Boring. Dry. Boring. Dry. Boring. Dry. Someone dies and I cry. Repeat.

Sunday, April 29, 2012

Guess What?!


I giggle every time and I hope you guys giggled too.

Saturday, April 28, 2012

Back to Business.

     I hope you all enjoyed to photos I posted previously due to not feeling well. 
     I don't think I've told you all about Fever 1793 by Laurie Halse Anderson, and if I'm repeating myself I'm sorry.
     It's set in the time of the yellow fever epidemic in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania following the life of Miss Matilda Cook.  Her family owns and works a coffee shop, hoping to make it the finest Philadelphia has ever seen when the Fever struck the city.
     The Fever sweeps through the city, taking life after life.  Gravediggers can't dig graves fast enough to keep up with the lost lives.  Leaving bodies laying upon bodies in cemeteries.  Mattie must make her way through the city to find a safe haven and is only struck with how life has been completely altered.  Not only for her, but for her friends and complete strangers as well.

Thursday, April 26, 2012

I Hope You Enjoy This.

Here's some facts and amusing pictures because I'm sick and can't move anything without wanting to vomit.

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Funk Monkey's.

Let's start a debate among you all!
What do you think about capital punishment?
Because I am pro-punishment.
Now I'm interested in your view for once!
What do you think?

Monday, April 23, 2012

Started A New Book Today.

     I started a new book today because the one I had been reading was extremely boring.  After putting Arthas by Christie Golden- a World of Warcraft book that I'm suppose to read for book club- on hold for a bit I started The Assassin's Accomplice by Kate Clifford Larson.  This is kind of a biography of Mary Surratt, but mainly just the story of her involvement with the Confederacy during the Civil War.
     It's not as dry as it sounds!  I thought I'd need a drink by the first page but I was surprisingly wrong.  The author does very well to make this narrative entertaining and worth reading.  Now, I'm not exactly sure how accurate it is but it is extremely compelling.  I borrowed from my teacher before she even had the chance to read it I wanted it that bad.

Wednesday, April 18, 2012


     I don't remember the last time I posted and I don't exactly have anything prepared today-not that I'm usually prepared anyway- so here's something I'm throwing together.

Sunday, April 15, 2012

Dracula by Bram Stoker

     I thought about reviewing the Bible at first but I realized that could cause a whole lot of problems.  So I didn't, and I should probably read the whole thing first. 
     Anyway, onto Dracula!  Have you ever read Dracula?  You should, it is rather enjoyable actually.  Written in letter format like Daddy-Long-Legs, it tells the adventure of Johnathon Harker as he goes to stay at a mysterious old castle in Transylvania with the oddly absent during daylight hours Count.
     I like Harker, I do, but my favorite character has to be Quincy Morris and it's not just because he's American and a Texan... okay, that's probably the only reason he's my favorite.  Hush, just imagine his accent.
    If you don't like adventure stories then read it for the love story inside of the adventure.  Harker has a sweetheart back home in England by the name of Mina Murray.  Now, I don't particularly like Mina, I think she's an idiot, but she is rather important to the plot.  She resembles Dracula's long lost love, he's after her, blah blah blah, and all that jazz.
     And if you don't like adventure or love stories then you could read it for the myth involved in it.  Or for the vampire.  Dracula is the perfect example of what a vampire should be.  He doesn't sparkle, he doesn't go out during the daylight, doesn't like holy items or garlic, he's a REAL vampire.

Friday, April 13, 2012

You'll Like This.

     Since it seems that the majority of you enjoy the Greeks more than the Romans I recommend to you: Mythology by Edith Hamilton.  She starts out the book by introducing the difference between the Greek and Roman writing styles.  She then continues to introduce you to the Gods, Goddesses, Lesser Gods, Titans and Heroes of mythology.  She tells you how the world came to be made along with mankind.  Quiet fascinating.
     And then she starts the myths.  Love and lost, odysseys, and the Trojan war.  And if you easily lose track of which God is connected to who, never fear!  A conveniently placed family tree is located in the back of the book. 

P.S.  She also adds a quick introduction to the Norsemen and a few myths.  LOVE.

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Greek or Roman?

     Frankly, I prefer Greek myths to their counter parts of the Romans.  They're just so much more... yeah.  Their is something about them that I love just so much more than the Romans.  Tell me, what is your preference?

Sunday, April 8, 2012

The Red Badge of Courage by Stephen Crane.

     This has got to be the most God forsaken book I have ever read.  I mean it, I absolutely positively cannot stand this book.  I can't even grasp what the author was trying to do with it.  It was a nice idea you know, reveal the ugliness of war and all but he did it so horribly.  I honestly wanted to shoot myself while reading this book. 
     I can't stand how he calls the main character so many different names.  The youth, Fleming, Henry, Henry Fleming.  It took me a few chapters just to get all the names straight.  It my class several chapters just realize who the main character was due to the many names. 
     Not to mention the way he wrote the bloody story.  It was as if he took many thoughts surrounding the story and smashed them together.  I couldn't tell where he was going with it half the time.  At first Henry is this brave young man and then he's freaking out and then he's back to being brave.  It's as if the author himself wasn't sure where he was going with it.

Friday, April 6, 2012

The Last Song by Nicholas Sparks.

     I've read two Nicholas Sparks books in my life and I must say, I see a pattern.  A heart breaking pattern.  When he writes a books, I think the one thought in his mind is just how many people can I make cry reading this one?  Because you cry, oh you cry, and if you don't you're heartless.  

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Willow by Julia Hoban

     I do not believe I have yet to review a book that tells a story that represents this up and coming generation of adults.  Willow by Julia Hoban tells such a story and it is heart wrenching.

     Willow Randall is barely the appropriate age to drive when she and her parents go out to eat one fateful night.  Her parents while at the restaurant had a little to much to drink and ended up having the barely licensed teenager drive them all home.  Willow lost control of the vehicle- costing both of her parents their lives.
     This dreadful loss forces young Willow to move in with her older brother leaving her with a guilty conscience.  The weight on her shoulders from the feeling of responsibly for her parents death and unwanted burden of her brothers family pushed her over the edge of depression.  Willow self harms to help herself breathe and get through the day.
     When a random stranger she's her razor hiding in her backpack he's insistent on helping.  Guy is the typical boy next door with his good looks and considerate attitude.  He's just the man for the job.  He doesn't push her, he listens without ever making her talk, he's there and ready to catch her when she falls.
     This is a story of how one act of kindness can change the life of someone who really needs it.  This is a story of the current generation.

Sunday, April 1, 2012

I Honestly Don't Know.

     I honestly don't know why I do this blog.  Maybe because I have nothing better to do.  That's a lie, I have homework.  And books.  And The Golden Girls.  Maybe I'm doing it for me.  Maybe I'm writing this for you.  Neither of those are probably true.  Maybe I'm writing this right now because some unseen universal force is forcing my hand and my opinion onto the internet.  Should I be placing question marks instead of periods after those sentences?  I don't know. 
     I do appreciate the comments and I will work on the length.
     Another lie.  I lied about not doing another video.  I just had way to much fun doing that.  I'm lying a lot today... I should stop that.  I promise to never lie again!  That's going to come out as a broken promise, but it's the truth right now!  Everyone lies.  Even you.  And you.  And you.

And you.

     I forgot where I was going with this.  That face is quite a distraction.

     Okay, back to something serious.  I hope you all are doing well and are happy.  AND that is the truth!

     May the odds be ever in your favor.

Saturday, March 31, 2012

I Guess You Guys Didn't Like It...

     I guess you-my dear devoted, loving readers- didn't enjoy my video.  I only got NINE pageviews.  I usually get at least twenty.  That hurt.  I thought for certain that you all would enjoy it, but alas twas not to be.  I'll never do it, EVER.  Never ever ever.  Not in a million years will I make you all another video.  Even when I thought I was hilarious. Hmph.  I must give the people what they want right?  That's democracy for you. 
     I hate politics so lets take a different turn in the conversation.
     I would like to hear from you.  Tell me what you think-not politics related-, I suggest you take this chance because usually I'm not open for it.  I don't even reply to comments.  Not that I don't LOVE getting comments.  I do, I really really do enjoy getting comments.  I usually just don't know what to say in reply.

I can't believe I didn't even get one comment on my video. Sigh.

Friday, March 30, 2012

Romeo and Juliet: VIDEO!

     Today I felt like a video.  A video about Romeo and Juliet.  Enjoy!

     1.  This is pretty rough, I have no idea how to edit.
     2.  I wouldn't want to edit it or redo it though because I think it's funny just the way it is.
     3.  I say stupid a lot since I'm speaking and not typing so I'm not using the first words that come to mind.
     4.  If you're wondering why I didn't vary my word choices it's because what I am saying in this video are my thoughts at the time of it.  No previous for thought as you can tell by how unprepared I am.
     5.  I'm sorry that this is so long, but it's my first.  I'll make the next one short.

Thursday, March 29, 2012

Angela's Ashes by Frank McCourt.

     I had no idea that this book existed until my English gave an excerpt of it as a last minute assignment the other day.  It's a memoir of the life of Frank McCourt, a boy born in the U.S. who moved to Ireland with his family after the death of a younger sibling.  While there he lived in serious poverty and under the command of an alcoholic father who disappeared days at a time and then eventually went away all together.
     He developed Typhoid fever- this was decades ago, I'm not entirely sure of the time line-and was put into a ward with another girl who was in for different reasons.  They were banned from speaking to each other because different disease victims weren't allowed to intermingle.  But really, what were they suppose to do when they're left to themselves all day?  I thing nuns are just evil.

     Mr. McCourt writes as if he's talking directly to you, not in a typical writing fashion.

Here's an excerpt from Chapter 4 of the book, enjoy:

First Communion day is the happiest day of your life because of The Collection and James Cagney at the Lyric Cinema. The night before I was so excited I couldn't sleep till dawn. I'd still be sleeping if my grandmother hadn't come banging at the door.

Get up! Get up! Get that child outa the bed. Happiest day of his life an' him snorin' above in the bed.

I ran to the kitchen. Take off that shirt, she said. I took off the shirt and she pushed me into a tin tub of icy cold water. My mother scrubbed me, my grandmother scrubbed me. I was raw, I was red.

They dried me. They dressed me in my black velvet First Communion suit with the white frilly shirt, the short pants, the white stockings, the black patent leather shoes. Around my arm they tied a white satin bow and on my lapel they pinned the Sacred Heart of Jesus, a picture with blood dripping from it, flames erupting all around it and on top a nasty-looking crown of thorns.

Come here till I comb your hair, said Grandma. Look at that mop, it won't lie down. You didn't get that hair from my side of the family. That's that North of Ireland hair you got from your father. That's the kind of hair you see on Presbyterians. If your mother had married a proper decent Limerick man you wouldn't have this standing up, North of Ireland, Presbyterian hair.

She spat twice on my head.

Grandma, will you please stop spitting on my head.
If you have anything to say, shut up. A little spit won't kill you. Come on, we'll be late for the Mass.

We ran to the church. My mother panted along behind with Michael in her arms. We arrived at the church just in time to see the last of the boys leaving the altar rail where the priest stood with the chalice and the host, glaring at me. Then he placed on my tongue the wafer, the body and blood of Jesus. At last, at last.

It's on my tongue. I draw it back.

It stuck.
I had God glued to the roof of my mouth. I could hear the master's voice, Don't let that host touch your teeth for if you bite God in two you'll roast in hell for eternity. I tried to get God down with my tongue but the priest hissed at me, Stop that clucking and get back to your seat. God was good. He melted and I swallowed Him and now, at last, I was a member of the True Church, an official sinner.

When the Mass ended there they were at the door of the church, my mother with Michael in her arms, my grandmother. They each hugged me to their bosoms. They each told me it was the happiest day of my life. They each cried all over my head and after my grandmother's contribution that morning my head was a swamp.

Mam, can I go now and make The Collection?

She said, After you have a little breakfast.
No, said Grandma. You're not making no collection till you have a proper First Communion breakfast at my house. Come on.

We followed her. She banged pots and rattled pans and complained that the whole world expected her to be at their beck and call. I ate the egg, I ate the sausage, and when I reached for more sugar for my tea she slapped my hand away.

Go easy with that sugar. Is it a millionaire you think I am? An American? Is it bedecked in glitterin' jewelry you think I am? Smothered in fancy furs?

The food churned in my stomach. I gagged. I ran to her backyard and threw it all up. Out she came.

Look at what he did. Thrun up his First Communion breakfast. Thrun up the body and blood of Jesus. I have God in me backyard. What am I goin' to do? I'll take him to the Jesuits for they know the sins of the Pope himself.

She dragged me through the streets of Limerick. She told the neighbors and passing strangers about God in her backyard. She pushed me into the confession box.

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Sunday, March 25, 2012

I've Been Busy.

     In case you're wondering (and I know you are because I'm just that interesting) why I've been quiet for the past few days it's because I have been rather busy.

1. I had a track meet Friday, so I was pretty busy all Friday evening helping at the start/finish line and running.  Well not really running.  I only run two events and one of them got canceled because of all the rain.  I hate rain.  So so much.  And so I only ran one race, which happened to be the very last one.  but hey!  We got second in the 4x4! (Which is the race I ran with three other teammates)  The boys and girls team also got FIRST OVER ALL!!!

2.  I went a friends house on Saturday and I didn't bring my laptop.

3.  I went to see The Lorax and spent eighty-one dollars at the bookstore. :3  I love the bookstore.  I swear, if they hadn't replaced the coffee place with a yogurt place I could live there.  The eighty-one dollars I spent isn't as bad as the one hundred and fifty I spent once before that. Be proud of me, I restrained myself.

Thursday, March 22, 2012

How Much Do You Spend On Your Animals?

     Frankly, I don't care how much you spend on your animal.  That question just had something to do with the prompt I had to write for the Westest.  I had to write about how much people spend on their animals and explain why I think they do it.
     To say the least, I pointed out how ridiculous that prompt was multiple times in the essay while simultaneously writing about the actually prompt.  You see, I answered it, but I insulted it at the same time.  It takes a true genius to do that. ;3

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

My English Class.

   In my English class my teacher is preparing us for the God awful Writing Assessment- part of the big state test.  That means that we have to write A LOT of 5x5 essay's and not only in English class.  They assign you a prompt, which is usually stupid, and you have to write a five paragraph and five sentences in each.
      I won't do it.  Write about the school dress code you say?  Describe an animal you say?  Write about your best friend you say?  Write about nanananananananananana you say?  NO.  And then we're suppose to make those charts that "help" organize your essay because apparently EVERYONE does it.  It apparently IS SO HELPFUL that I can't even understand the amount of help it's providing.
     WRONG.  I won't do it.  If I have to write a 5x5 I'll write about whatever I damn well please.  I'm the one writing it, not you.  The Writing Assessment already has idiot prompts, I don't need to write anymore that I have to.  The charts, we don't even are allowed to use a chart while taking it.  I can't even do the blasted chart to describe an animal.  So, I just use the chart to point out the faults of the chart and then I write an essay about whatever I feel like it.  Today I was suppose to write one about motivation, I wrote about some guy who's going to die instead.  Cheery right? 

    For the love of Cheeses, please let this be over with soon.

Tuesday, March 20, 2012


     I'm not a very big fan of chickens, but if there is any chicken I admire it's the one from the Nun's Priest's Tale in the Canterbury Tales.  He outsmarted a fox! Do you know how hard that is to do?  Foxes are pretty foxy after all.  This chicken though, is the foxiest chicken I've ever read about.  He is one cool cat.  He's the cool bean.  Fonzier than the Fonz! Give it up for Chauntecleer! 
      This bird could challenge Ol' Blue Eyes for a Grammy with his amazing voice.  But don't ever listen to his favorite wife, Pertelote, for she is sure to almost get you killed.  Telling you to ignore all forewarning of a drastic event.
     Take care now, and remember, may the bridges you burn light the way.

P.S. I sincerely hope that you know who Ol' Blue Eyes.  If you don't, I'm not sure you're fit to live.

Sunday, March 18, 2012

IT by Stephen King.

     Have you ever read a Stephen King novel?  Pretty scary.  I actually couldn't finish IT because it freaked me out so much.  You see, I've seen the movie.  The  movie is actually why I greatly, deeply, and irrevocably don't like being near a clown.  Or street drains.  I hate street drains.  When I was little I used to go on walks with my Grandmother.  She lived in a really nice neighborhood with sidewalks (sidewalks aren't common where I live) and street drains just like the ones in the movie.  I always made sure I walked above the street drain and never in the road in front of it.  I can just imagine the vile fanged clowns voice calling my name... *shuddershudder*

Friday, March 16, 2012


     I'm lacking the motivation to finish The Canterbury Tales.  Some of the stories are works of art, but then you have the other ones... The REALLY boring stories.... My God, I don't know if I can keep doing it.  I promised you all that I would finish it, so I haven't given up on it yet.  Dear God though, it's draining the life out of me with the boring stories.  The good ones are very good, but they're shorter than the boring ones.  Holy Mother of Cheeses, I'm bored.

Wednesday, March 14, 2012


   I would like to thank everyone who read and replied to my last post.  I appreciate the advise, thank you!

     Now on to the wonderful wonderful news I have!

     Sharon Lathan, the author of the Darcy Saga has made me the happiest girl ALIVE.  She sent me nine-NINE-autographed items.  Two autographed bookmarks and SEVEN signed bookplates.  SO HAPPY. She also sent two business like cards and two Darcy Saga bookmarks.  SO UNBELIEVABLY HAPPY.

     Rachel Caine, the author of the Morganville Vampires Series has also sent me a signed bookplate and a Ghost Town bookmark.

     You have absolutely no idea how happy I was when I got them in the mail.  These are two of my FAVORITE authors and I'm just so happy that they give their reader's who don't have the opportunity to go see them in person to receive signed items through the mail.  I LOVE getting mail.

     Curious as to how you can receive similar items?  Check out these sites to learn more:

Please note that I'm not sure if the Rachel Caine site is still doing the signed bookmarks.  You'll have to look around a bit in order to find it I believe.
I'm fairly certain that Sharon Lathan is still doing the via mail signing.

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

To Make Up For Missing Several Days.

     To make up for missing several days of posts and halfassing one yesterday I'll post what I have from Scars on the Heart.  It's not much still since I haven't had much time to work on it, but you all seemed to enjoy it last time so I'll share with you the updated version.

Ignore the spelling and grammatical errors.

Better yet, correct them in a comment!

She was exotic, her and her brothers to the students of Cappa High in Mountain View, Washington.  All eyes landed on them as they made their way through the lunch room.  The two boys- Casper and Jasper- walking on either side of Geneviere.  To the others they’re the new kids, the rare batch of triplets who are unbelievably close.
            In reality though, they’re first cousins born on the same day, the same year, and in the same hospital.  To each other they felt like fibers of the same thread.  So as usual, the two boys claimed their lovely cousin as sister and she in return claimed them as brothers.
            To the twin boys it was new.  Though they had traveled the world helping people, they had always been enrolled at the same schools in their hometown.  They were here for only one reason though- to make sure Geneviere adjusted well to the semi-normal everyday life she would be returning to.
            Geneviere was a shy but worldly 5’5½” tall young woman.  She had steel blue eyes that always appeared to be shouldering something but you never know what.  Her hair was kept at shoulder length and it always lied on the balance between dishwater blonde and light brown with slight red highlights.  She had a scar that ran across her cheekbone in a diagonal manner, which always drew the first notice of attention from anyone.  She wore a menagerie of bracelets collected from across the world on her wrists.  The bracelets changed daily, but the one constant was a heart shaped locket around her neck.  On one side lies a cross, the other a skeleton key.
            To Geneviere this was just another school, another town, another place in time that will blend in with so many others.  From a young age she started traveling the world due to a heartbreaking event.  Her parents divorced when she was six and in the settlement her mother, Sarah McClain, got full custody over her more responsible and less erratic father, Thomas Johnson.
            Geneviere has carried around a feeling of unwantedness when regards of her father’s feelings towards her.  Ever since Jackson’s death a lot has changed in her immediate family.  Her mother set off immediately after the divorce to California where she buried her grief in work and men.
            Thomas left the family ranch in Gatesville, Texas and moved up north to the large property he owned in Mountain View, Washington.  Thomas was still figure at the family’s global business, but he did not participate actively.  Unlike his ex-wife, he drew into himself and refrained from making any important decisions.
            On reflection though, Geneviere realizes that Thomas probably wasn’t in the best state of mind during the custody hearing.  It had only been a year since Jackson’s death and he was Dad’s little cowboy.  That had been a rough year.  Sarah and Thomas needed someone to blame for the tragic death of their son, Geneviere’s twin brother, Jackson.  The two parents couldn’t find it in themselves to blame Geneviere or the boys for Jackson’s death.  They blamed themselves and that in turn ruined their marriage because they couldn’t move past their own anger and self blame.
            No one ever stopped to think about how much Geneviere blamed herself…
            “Gen?”  The sound of Casper calling her name drew her back to the present.
            “Where do you want to sit?  With those kids we met in third or by ourselves?”  Both of the boys were watching her closely for any signs of distress.  It had been a long time since Geneviere tried to make friends.
            “Did they invite us to sit with them?  I don’t want to assume…”
            “They just did Gen, it’ll be alright.  You’ll be alright, we’re right here with you, but come April we won’t be and we want to make sure you make friends who will look out for you.”  Jasper said carefully.
            Geneviere gave an exasperated sigh; they were always worrying about her.  For Christ’s sake, she’s been through the Amazon supplying aid to those in need.  She’s forged through Ethiopia healing the wounded and feeding the starving, abandoned children.  For the life of her though, she can’t handle average kids her own age.
            “Yeah, let’s go make friends.”  She tried and failed to sound excited.

            “Well, that was interesting.”  Casper claimed as they climbed the front porch of Thomas’ home.  The house was of decent size, fit for a family not a lonely middle aged man.  Geneviere had always been weary of visiting her Father.  It had always been a solemn occasion for the both of them.  Thomas never had anything to offer Geneviere and she never asked for anything.  Her whole life she had always had enough money to get whatever she desired, but just like the rest of her family no one had ever felt the need to live beyond their means.
            “Everyone was very nice.”  Geneviere amended.  But just how many of them were sincere in their intent?  Geneviere thought to herself.
            “I know what you’re thinking, Gen.  Stop it, you don’t have to trust them right off the bat.  People can be nice without wanting anything from it.  You’re nice all the time and never ask for anything in return.”  Jasper stated stubbornly.
            “That’s because we were brought up differently than kids now-a-days.  For the first eight years of our life we were taught by Greaty.  He brought us up as if were from the 1920’s rather than the 1990’s.  Thank God for that, if I were like some of these kids today I’d pray for someone to shoot me.”
            “Yeah, I’m pretty glad that I got the chance to learn things teenagers these days don’t have the opportunity.”  Said Casper, shooting Jasper a dirty look, trying to communicate to him that Geneviere doesn’t need this on her conscience.  Jasper, realizing what his twin was trying to say tried to lighten the mood,
            “Like how we can speak all languages of amor.”  As Jasper reached the end of the hallway he gave a seductive turn, winked, and said, “Avez-vous besoin de moi?”  Much to their effort, Geneviere and Casper couldn’t help but laugh.
            “Je suis un homme désolé, mais personne ne veut cela.”  Casper said with a laugh.  Geneviere rolled her eyes and pushed her way past Jasper who was blocking the entrance to the main room.  As she laid down her stuff beside the couch she ask,
            “Do you guys want anything to eat?  I peanut butter and jelly sandwich with a side of milk is sounding pretty good to me right now.”  Neither of the boys pointed out that that was only because she ceased to eat anything during lunch.
            “Sure, I’ll pour the milk, Jae can spread the jelly and then you can spread the peanut butter.  It’ll be an assembly line!”  Casper said with way to much enthusiasm.  Geneviere and Jasper chuckled at him and followed him into the kitchen.  Casper and Geneviere went straight to the cupboard holding the glasses and plates as Jasper walked over to the fridge to get out the peanut butter, jelly, and milk.
            Casually as Jasper started spreading the grape jelly on the first slice of wheat bread he spoke, “You did well today Gen, just keep your head up.  I know that Casper and I can be a bit too optimistic for you, but when someone is as pessimistic as you are it takes two people to balance it out!”  He finished with a smile, trying not to offend her.
            “I’m not that pessimistic.  I’m sure I’ll do fine here; I’m just out of my element.  It’s been a while since I’ve gone to a normal school.  Not to mention a normal school full of people who I don’t know.  When I lived with you guys I was homebound, but I still had friends in the community who I’ve known my whole life.  Here, I’m an outsider with no one on my side of the line.”
Casper butted in, “And since when haven’t you been an outsider?  Gen you’ve traveled the world, Hell, you lived with the Afar for two months one summer.”  
“That was different; I knew that was only for a few months.  I wasn’t going to stay there for two years.  On top of that, I don’t even want to be here.  If I had it my way I’d be living by myself.  Actually, I probably wouldn’t even have a place to call home.  I’d be so busy going from one country to the next.  I want to help the people who everyone forgets about.  I can’t do that here.  Mom just didn’t care, and that was for the best.”  Geneviere claimed indignantly.  The boys just grumbled in return. 
They knew how Geneviere truly felt, and it wasn’t what she just said.  Underneath that hard exterior was a broken girl who only wanted someone to show it to her that they cared.  That’s why the twins flew up here with her.  They love her and she needs that.  She needs to know that there is someone else’s bed she can crawl into at night when she had a bad dream.  Someone who would sing her to sleep when her thoughts wouldn’t let her. 
Geneviere walked back into the living room with the boys in tow and sat down in front of the sofa, leaning her back against it.  Casper picked up the remote as he went to sit on her left and flipped on the television as Jasper was making himself comfortable on Geneviere’s right.
“Friends is on, we could watch that.”  Suggested Jasper.
“Orrrr, we could go get the old VHS tapes of Mama’s Family.”  Geneviere countered, batting her eyelashes at Casper who was in charge of the remote this evening.  He stared at them both for a few seconds and then went to channel 259 to watch Walker Texas Ranger.  “Typical man.” Geneviere muttered, though she really did enjoy the show.
            After the hour had ended Geneviere went up stairs to her room to unload her very full backpack.  As she sat it on her desk next to her laptop she took a look around the room.  It’s been a while since I’ve been here hasn’t it?  She thought to herself.  The last time I came to see Dad was when I was 15.  That was two years ago now.  I probably would have come up last summer as usual if it weren’t for the fact that they needed me at the ranch after Richard died.  She shook herself out of that thought quickly.  It’s so hard to remain positive when you’re always remembering the negative.
            She laid a hand on the light purple walls remember how she used to get in trouble with Jackson for writing on the walls with crayons before he died.  Eventually they learned not to color where their parents would see.  The first thing she did when she arrived at the house last week was to check and see if the drawing of their family was still in her closet.  She had feared that Thomas had painted over it in preparation of her visit.  Thankfully he did no such thing.
            Her blue curtains fluttered lightly as she opened the window to let the room breathe a bit.  Her dresser was on the wall perpendicular to the window so Geneveire didn’t have to move far to remove most of jewlery.  Leaving only the many cloth bracelets on her left wrist.  Walking over to her closet she placed her two cell phones on the desk.  Luckily no one had called her business line while she was in school.  It’s odd actually having to worry about someone calling my work line during regular business hours.  I’m screwed if someone does.  Unlike Mom, Dad cares if I get in trouble, but it’s not like I can just ignore it if I’m called.  Someone needs help and I’ll be damned if I can’t do something!
            Geneviere hung up her jacket in the closet and stopped dead when she saw the drawing.  She stood there staring at the happy faces of her parents and the smiling stick figures of them all.  Mostly though, she stared at the fake Jackson and thought of his smile and how that if she smiled more she would see it again in the mirror.  It felt like an eternity until Jasper opened her door and asked for help with his Trig homework.  She walked out of the room after him with solemn thoughts, That was when we were happy, that was when we weren’t broken…

            “You’re so exasperating!  Just put this number here and that one there and boom! You’ve got it!”  Geneviere exclaimed at her brother.
            “But why do they go there?  Why do these number work here and not there?  Why can’t I work on both sides of the equation and not just one?”  Jasper insisted.
            “Look Jae, you’re over thinking it.  I know you think you have to understand the why’s behind everything, but frankly, you can get through life pretty well without knowing them all.  I don’t know the answer to your questions.  I do, however, know how to solve the problem and if you want me to keep helping through them I suggest you shut up, listen, and stop over thinking it.”  She snapped.  Geneveire realized that she was being to aggressive about it by the hurt look that went quickly across Jae’ face.  She sighed.  “I’m sorry, it’s been a long day.  Well start from the beginning and work our way back down, okay?” 
            After another hour and a half of math work they were finally finished.  It had been a long day for them all.  Geneveire went back upstairs while the twin boys went into the living room to watch television.  When Geneveire walked into her room she turned on her iHome and played The Fray at a soft volume.  She layed down on her floor and staired at the ceiling.
            Everything is so different now.  I never came to visit Dad because of the memories from this place. Home.  That’s what this place is suppose to be to me now.  I don’t have home, I haven’t had one for a while.  After Jackson died Mom and Dad just abandoned Texas, avoided it in all conversations like an STD.  Mom got custody of me in the divorce, not like it was hard to do since Dad didn’t even fight for me.  He just layed down and took it.
            California had been uncomfortable for me.  Mom was always in and out, Dad would call and check up on me.  I never told him the truth though, the truth would have killed him.  He didn’t fight, but he did care.  I hope.  I never told him about how Mom had drank that whole next year away after Jackson’s death.  Or about the string of me that came through the door.  It was unstable, but then again, so am I.
            I was always alone, even when Mom was home.  She tried to take care of me, but she couldn’t handle it.  Not at first or even as the years went by.  A part of her died that day along with Jackson.  Only a part though, it wasn’t like half of her had been taken away.  Stolen from the years he should have had.  I cried every night, his death constantly on play in my mind.  I became reclusive in school making up friends that I didn’t really have.  The only one who new at the time was Greaty.
            The divorce had left things sour between my Great Grandfather and parents.  He loved my father, and even my mother, but he just hated to see them give up so easily on their marriage.  He fought with them, tried to get them to go to counseling but they wouldn’t listen.  The fighting grew worse.  I remember the night they took the first step to the divorce office.  It was dead silent, like the calm before the storm.  I heard a glass shatter and then the screaming came.  They screamed for hours on end.  I remember walking down stairs, neither of them noticing,-they always thought I’d be asleep by now, never knowing that sleep came rarely to me anymore- I picked up our landline and dialed Uncle Richard as I raced back up the stairs.
            “Shallow Creek Ranch, Richard Johnson speaking.”  My Uncle was always polite when he answered the phone, even when it was 2:39 in the morning.  Up until this point I hadn’t thought about to say to him when he did answer.  I realized that I was at a loss of words.  I’d been silent for a year about the fighting.  Everyone thought that we were adjusting well enough to the loss of my twin brother.  I couldn’t handle it.  The thought of breaking the façade.  I hung up the telephone and muffled my sobs with a pillow.
            An hour later and they were still at it.  “I’m six years old, I shouldn’t have to deal with this!”  I flung myself off the bed, grabbed my Powerpuff girls backpack and stuffed it full of the things that meant the most to me.  The picture of us at the town festival two years ago holding a cone of pumpkin icecream, Jackson’s longhorn stuffed animal, my favorite clothes, and my favorite shirt that belongPowerpuff girls backpack and stuffed it full of the things that meant the most to me.  The picture of us at the town festival two years ago holding a cone of pumpkin ice cream, Jackson’s longhorn stuffed animal, my favorite clothes, and my favorite shirt that belonged to Jackson.          

****This is not based on real life events.****