I'm happy. It feels so good.

Damn Caring

I shouldn't care. It won't happen. I'm overreacting. This is killing me. I'm annoyed with myself.

Fuck.

I don't even know how to explain it. I'm just so irked over it. I shouldn't be. I'm over him, they're just friends, it probably won't happen anyway. I just can't ignore the fact that she doesn't care. Doesn't think twice about it. Of course that's just her attitude, a quick flippant "sure!" and moving on. Why don't things matter to her? EVERYTHING matters to me.

Maybe I care too much. Or maybe... she just cares too little.

August 10, 2011 Ramble Number One

Have you ever just felt tired? Just so tired of doing what you have to? Being who you are--with all your horrible qualities? There is no escape for that, though. You're just stuck. Yeah, well, I'm tired of my "super power". You see, my best friend and I have taken some qualities of ours (hers the ability to burp and spit like a forty-year old man, and mine, my least favorite thing about me) and deemed them our "super powers". They are rather horrible super powers. I want something more than what I have... For I am the Queen of Awkward Silences.

Yep. No way around it. Even if I have a few chatty people that I barely know, if they're around me, it's less of a chance a conversation will be held. I can't help it. I'm just awkward. I know, small talk. Well small talk never works. Every time I hear those words I think of the weather. Chatting about the weather. Can you see me chatting about the weather? I don't hardly know ANYTHING about the damn weather! So what am I supposed to do then? Ask them their favorite color? That is always the second thing I think of... Any one got any hints? I don't want to be the Queen of Awkward Silences. I want to be able to talk easily to people without my face heating up and my stomach flipping three times in the span of two seconds.

You know what would be an amazing super power? The ability to read minds... I know some will say, "oh that's lame, I want to be able to fly!" Really, I never found the appeal of flying. It's not that I'm insecure! See when I think of people wanting to read minds they want to hear what others are thinking of them. That could be either disastrous or a great confidence-booster. That's not what I'd want it for, though that would be interesting... I want it because, hey, it really could improve my small talk. That, and I would hopefully develop quite a thick skin, so as to not be easily offended. Wouldn't that just be marvelous?

So, question for you... Any tips on small talk AND if you could have a super power, what would it be?

As always.

Ello world. I'm not aiming for the poetic, deep look right now, so bear with me.

So school is back. Oh the tragedy... Course we aren't doing anything yet. It's quite sad. We all just go there and sit around, nothing to do. I would work on my new L/J long fic, but really, in a school full of nerds do I really need to be the nerdiest? Why yes of course I do. ;D

Anyway, I've discovered Doctor Who. I've only seen a few episodes so far, but they're amazing. I don't know what it is, the thrilling stories every show, the Ninth Doctor's enthusiasm, or maybe its just the accents. Whatever it is, I am hooked and loving it.

Now, onto what you've been dying to hear... The "Invisible" boy. (And here comes the "poetic" part I promised I wouldn't do..)

He's as beautiful as ever.. Dark hair tousled, brown eyes searching, always searching... His mouth set, determination easily read in his features. His skin darker than normal, of course that was expected. What wasn't expected was the action, or lack thereof. He never placed a foot on my bus. Its as if every time I get close to this boy, fate tears me apart. I hate it. I want him. I want all of him. Once again, I rarely know what I want, and when I do know, I also know I can never have it. Just my luck.

To end on a more positive note, the beach was incredible. As always.

My Harry Potter

Yes I had to do this, if not only to reminisce and share my experience, but because Jules did it first.

I don't know how old I was when my mom first read me the very first page of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. I just remember laying in bed, every night, anticipating finding out what was going to happen to Harry next. For years I remember lying in bed as my mom reads me Chamber of Secrets, filled with horrific spiders and venomous snakes, and then Prisoner of Azkaban, delighting me with tales of lovable jokers and learning of Harry's family, then lastly, we began The Goblet of Fire. That was a hard book for me to focus on. After years and years of the series being narrated in her voice, I wanted to test out how it sounded in my voice. So, still in bed, my mom sitting at my feet listening in, I lifted the heavy book and attempted to read.

For some reason, the book held no interest. I remember reading and reading and reading the first chapter over and over, in attempt to make sense of it, to connect to it, to find some detail that would spark my imagination, but I couldn't. At this point, my mom had stopped listening to me read the same chapter each night every night and this caused me to put the book down. Hidden on my book shelf was the four books and for years, I forgot them.

I remember seeing the movies in theaters. The first one was in competition with Lord of the Rings in my town, and because I considered myself loyal to Harry, I immediately favored Potter and held some-what of a grudge against Lord of the Rings (which my brothers went to see as my Dad and I went to see Sorcerer's Stone). If one thing was constant about my Potter film adventures it was that my Dad was always there, right by my side.

Then, there was the dramatic break. Between Goblet of Fire and Order of the Phoenix. At this point, I was so used to one movie per year that the anticipation nearly killed me. I remember vacationing that year when they made the announcement that no Potter movie would be released until 2007. I was so upset. I can recall standing in front of my mom and dad with my brother, Gary on the couch as I ranted on and on. Though I may have abandoned the books, I still was a loyal attendant at the movies.

Then the movie came out. Ohmygoodness. I am so ashamed of the fact that for a few moments, I actually shipped Cho and Harry. Of course, not actually having read the last four books, which in fact had been released, I momentarily thought that they were the best thing since sliced bread. At this point I was in sixth grade. And let me tell you, sixth grade was horrible. More on that later.

So, as you may know, Deathly Hallows had in fact been released and though I wasn't currently reading the Potter series, I had opened the book. No, I didn't own it, and no, I never thought I would. In a moment of curiosity, with my mom by my side, egging me on, we entered a bookstore and walked straight up to the display. Orange covers with red letters spelling out Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows were all I could see. I grabbed a top one, and without a thought I flipped it over and flicked through the blank pages until I found the last page. Though more than a bit confused with the context the last words were enough to satisfy me, "The scar had not pained Harry for nineteen years. All was well." He lived through it all. He lived! That was all that mattered. Not the intricate details, not all the time and hard work put into the book, just the fact that I knew he was going to be okay, it calmed me. How different that is today...

Anyway, back to sixth grade. There was this class, one of the most boring classes at our school. It was an elective that I was not planning on electing later when I actually had the choice. Basically we had to think about what we were going to do in college (then I believed I was going to be a chef) and with the rest of our lives. Our seats would change every so often and one day, I was sat next to this boy. Was he beautiful? Not really. Sandy colored hair, blue eyes, a small chin offset by his large nose, but he made me laugh and he had a book I recognized. Everyday, on his desk sat Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. For some reason, I was drawn to him. To this day, I'm not sure what it was, but if not to date him, I just wanted to be his friend. His name was Nick. He was my first attempt at "Potter Love". So figuring I was caught up with the movies, I skipped Goblet of Fire and Order of the Phoenix. One day not too long after recognizing his book, a book similar sat beside his on our shared desk. This was Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.

When I had first received it in the mail, I tore open the package and quickly opened the book. The first chapter was the most confusing thing I had ever read. After trusting and believing in the Order of the Phoenix on the television, I was shocked and felt utterly betrayed to discover that Snape was in fact, as Harry had suspected so many years ago, bad! A Death Eater! I had so much to learn... Wanting oh-so-badly to be able to have a specific reason to talk to Nick, I zoomed through the book, but at this point, I was hooked. Harry Potter was slowly becoming more than just a story to me. I had Deathly Hallows and Order of the Phoenix within weeks of finishing. My plan was to finish the series and then go back and read Goblet of Fire and Order of the Phoenix so I better understood.

If you're wondering, me and Nick did talk. In fact, we came very close to actually dating, we would flirt a lot, he would walk me to class, with our identical Deathly Hallows in our arms, we would even get to class early so we could switch the name tags and place ours together (we would often get in trouble for talking at this point and were constantly separated). Until he was teased by his friends and then stopped talking to me. Prat.

Sometime in between finishing HBP and losing Nick I discovered Potter Puppet Pals, and all the fan videos of Harry/Ginny (which was my OTP now). Wherever there is Harry/Ginny there must be Ron/Hermione (just because it's oh-so-cannon). Then... I found something odd, something unbelievable. A Hermione/Fred video. Out of curiosity I watched it. Apparently it was a trailer for a fanfiction called "The Next Mrs. Weasley". Now I would recommend it, but I haven't read it in a while and back then, well, let's say I wasn't used to being spoiled by Jules and TLAT. This is how I discovered fanfiction. For some reason, I found the idea of Fred/Hermione entertaining and stuck with it (maybe this sparked my love for the Weasley twin, I'll never know, but a picture of James and Oliver Phelps currently resides on the backside of my iPod).

Here is where (and imagine this being after I've already cried over Deathly Hallows--especially the resurrection stone section, and I've already decided that James and Lily are adorable) I become the L/J shipper. I hadn't really paid them much attention before, but once I found their characters, it was like I couldn't stop. Everything was Lily/James this, Lily/James that, my mom was almost at her breaking point of my obsession. I was of course in seventh grade now, well on my way for a better year filled with friends and boys (which it was ;D ) and was converting Harry Haters to Harry Lovers.

Anyway, I attempted writing a long L/J fic, and it started well, I had a good idea, knew the ending already, but what was I going to fill it with? So I decided I should probably just stick to drabbles and one-shots until I figured out how to become my determined. I'm still figuring out how to become determined.

The next year Half-Blood Prince was released in movie theaters. I saw it twice, once with my ever-faithful father, and once with my grandmother (who had no idea what was going on at this point). It was amazing. By-far the most hilarious HP movie yet! Though they did mess with the Harry/Ginny kiss, which bothered me to no end. I was hooked anyway.

That summer I discovered "A Very Potter Musical". I cannot believe it honestly took me that long. I immediately fell in love with Darren Criss and I downloaded the soundtrack from their website minutes after finishing the play. I would run around the house when no one was around screaming the lyrics to "Get Back to Hogwarts".

Then. Oh my goodness, then. HBP came out on DVD--and here's where it get's exciting--an ad. Not any old HP ad about video games, this one, this one was much much more. This, was a theme park. Orlando. Island of Adventures. This very summer. I was dying. I watched special after special and soon I found myself visiting Grandma and Grandpa down in Sebastian. Of course they would take me, anything to spend more time together.

It was a week after opening day, my Grandma, Grandpa, and Bryanna (my cousin) were there. It was a three-hour wait to get into Hogsmeade, but Merlin, it was wonderful. Snow-capped buildings, the Hogwarts Express, a cool glass of Butterbeer (sweet and bubbly, just as I imagined), and even two bottle of Pumpkin Juice to go around. That day was amazing. I sent a letter via owl post, I bought my first wand (Remus Lupin's. At that point they didn't have any other of the Marauder's wands made), I got a chocolate frog (it was massive. Took me a YEAR to eat!), I also got a Marauder's Map T-shirt. I took a Forbidden Journey with Harry, Hermione, and Ron.. I can't even begin to condense the magic that I felt there, inside the castle, on the ride, everywhere. It was the most magical day of my life.

That November Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part One came out in theaters. It was the beginning of an end that I didn't want to happen, but I couldn't help as the excitement bubbled. I had a party. Not a "anybody's welcome, bring your own beer" kind of party. A party where you make props, buy costumes, plan games, cook a feast! I felt like a kid, but Harry Potter always made me feel that way. Six girls, all dressed in Hogwarts robes. I now own a Sorting Hat, we all were sorted upon arriving (I'm a Hufflepuff, and quite proud to be one). Then we ate, and ate, and ate! At least three different meats, two kinds of potatoes, I was just surprised that it all fit on my rather small dining room table... Lastly, before we departed to go see the "beginning of the end" we had a Horcrux Hunt. I was quite proud of myself for this idea. The prizes (which I had actually won, more on that later...) consisted of a rip-off chocolate frog, Drooble's Best Blowing gum, and an authentic Honeydukes bar of chocolate (from my visit this past summer). After spray-painting our Tonks-look-a-like's hair, we left. I just don't feel I can comment much on the movie until I have seen Part two, but I can say I was pleased. (:

Onto how I won those prizes... well I go to this err... for lack of a better term, "Nerd School" where you can earn your AA degree and high school diploma in five years. Apparently, I'm not the only HP dork that can be found at this school. I was surrounded and it was wonderful. So our Key Club (which I am a part of) decided to hold a Harry Potter Social. It was intended for the week before the movie, but then they brought the date down to Thursday. Day before my party. Right. Excellent. I had to go though. It was a HARRY FREAKING POTTER Social! How could I miss this? So I was there. In a heartbeat. Had my robes on and everything. I hate to say most of the event was pretty boring. They did have a Dobby statue, and a raffle ticket (how I won the candy), they also held a costume contest which I surprisingly didn't win, and also a Harry Potter trivia game. This is where I saw him. He partnered with his sister and I partnered with my friend, Liz. I hadn't seen him around much before, but I did know who he was, and I did know he was a Potterhead. Oh and I did know he was attractive. Our tables were in the front, seated beside each other, I'm not sure why, but he sat on the side closest to me, and I closest to him. Every time someone would answer a question, we of course knew the answers and would turn to each other and give a sly grin. Once, I remember that no one could actually figure out the answer to a question so we referred to each other and still came up with the wrong answer. This was my second chance at "Potter Love" and once again, it failed. He a junior, I a freshman. How on earth was I supposed to catch up with this boy to say hi once and a while?! It was infuriating. One good chance at a HP romance, and I lost it.

So here is where I settled down. I read TLAT constantly, currently rereading Deathly Hallows, watching all the movies, dressing up in my Hufflepuff robes Friday and heading to the late showing with my best friend, Raya, Brooke, and as a birthday present, Sean. I'd sufficiently say I'm a part of the Potter Generation. Having grown up with Harry, its bittersweet to see him go. But I suppose he never will truly be gone... and I promise you now, my children will live, eat, and breathe Harry Potter.

Because it's a part of me now. It's helped to shape me into who I am, who I will be, and who I want to be.

Thanks J.K. Rowling.

I'm a freaking Hufflepuff.

I've made a mistake.

I've jumped to conclusions, I've been horrid, jealous, and bitter.

I know I'm not perfect, but I'm trying to be better. I'm trying to actually like myself...

I always had thought that I had my personality. I had that. That was the best thing about me. I thought I wasn't pretty enough, I thought I wasn't skinny enough, but at least I had my personality. The best part about me. Then I do things, in the heat of the moment, I say things, filled with emotion that I know I will regret, but I just don't care, because it sounds good. It makes me look like the good guy when I truly know I'm just a horrible cold person. A person who tries.

You may think it's smart to hate me and to ignore me. Maybe it is. You would know after all. But I'm not going to give up. Because that's not who I am.

Let me just say this... I'm sorry. To all I've hurt, toyed with, and broken.

I'm just sorry.

It Would Sound Lovely

I ran into you the other day. You looked just as I remembered, beanie covering your brown hair, skin a lovely tan color, the sound of your voice, your amazingly dark brown eyes. It was all just too much. You saw me again, those dark eyes latching onto my own.

Though we didn't speak (because I had my friends and you had yours), I saw the recognition.

You remembered too.

My breath hitched, my body tensed, and I knew every movement, every step was basing your opinion on me. Thoughts raced through my mind.

Has he noticed my absence on the bus?

Has he looked for me?

Does he even know my name?

Do you? Do you know my name? Do you doodle it in the margins of your papers? Do you imagine how it would sound with yours?

It would sound lovely.

Wondering

Sometimes I wonder about you. I wonder what you're like, if you think of me, if you ask about me... I wonder if we'd be good together, I wonder if we'd have a chance... I wonder if you still can see me, or if I'm invisible again..?

Am I?

Please tell me I'm not, because though I'm a girl who never really knows what she wants... I know I want you.

Shit.

Why am I not photogenic? Damn.

Well... at least I'm nice and generally happy. That's gotta make up for something.

I can't believe I just don't have the words to say for once. Ergh. This is seriously frustrating me, because being photogenic seems to be the only important thing in this day and age.

Just...

Shit.

Flying

He looked.

The shy girl with red glasses and freckled cheeks isn't quite as invisible as she once thought.

She had stopped looking for his face long ago. She had given up the possibility of being seen. But today had been a good day, and she missed his face oh-so-much. So she peeked.

His tan skin, beautiful mouth, dark dark eyes. It was like a breath of fresh air. She immediately wished to be closer to him. Then, something new. The seat to her right [number eight precisely] was suddenly occupied.

Startled, but not disappointed, she watched him out of the corner of her eye, feeling oddly aware. Without much warning he peeked at her as well. His dark dark eyes were finally on her and she was flying.

With as little as two blinks time, the moment was gone. The rest of the ride, she listened to him speak, cherishing the sound of his voice. Then, for the remainder of the day, all she could focus on was the feeling of his eyes on her.

Of those dark dark eyes on her.

Of being seen.

Of flying.

The Reason I Exist.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mObK5XD8udk&safety_mode=true&persist_safety_mode=1


This. This is the reason I exist.

Inspiration? Never.

Please kill me. Every SINGLE time I attempt to write, everything just disappears.. All my inspiration, time, and work. It all just goes away. Papers need to be written, mothers accidentally exit out of your work without saving it, and nothing good and witty comes to mind... Ergh.

Anyway, something I should continue on, or maybe something I should start..? Hoping for some inspiration on a Lily/James full-length piece, but none has come... Obviously.

Here's my fanfiction account: http://www.fanfiction.net/~thesmellofautumn

Unsure

Have you ever felt just so... unsure? Like you're standing on the edge of a cliff looking down. Behind you, your worst fear. You can choose to face it, or choose to jump. Which would you?

Jump scenario: One last look over your shoulder answered the question for you. Taking in a deep breath, you closed your eyes, bent your knees, and pushed. For a moment, the feel of the cool air against your skin was almost comforting, then, all of a sudden, your stomach dropped and your eyes snapped open. You jumped. One great act of courage vs. another.

Facing your fears: To jump or not to jump? Not to jump. You turn slowly to see the thing you feared the most behind you. What will you do? Watch the outcome, or try and create a new outcome? Will you (figuratively) leap, instead of litterally?

I honestly cannot decide which of these acts is the most courageous. If you jump, you're running away from your fears, but you are also facing the possibility of death, or at least a serious injury. If you don't jump, if you turn and face your fears... Well damn, thats just terrifying. If you didn't jump, you thought of the outcome, and avoided "death".

And no one is here to answer this question for me... So unsure it is.

Invisible

I am invisible.

Fucking invisible.

Imagine this.

There you're sitting. In your seat; number seven. One headphone in your ear the other dangling somewhere around your chest. Trying to be casual, you'll mainly stare out the window to your left, watching kids walk past and board other buses. That's what others assume you're doing. Just watching. You know the truth. You're looking for him. That beautiful, beauitful boy. He doesn't walk past that window though. Then all too soon, he's getting onto the bus. Your eyes dart to the front and take him in. His tan skin, his beautiful mouth, wavy brown hair, chocolate eyes. Hell, you even notice what he's wearing that day. Whether it may be a blue beanie, a red t-shirt where you can see see the outline of his chest, the chain on his shorts, or even if he tried to match. You will notice. Because that's what you do.

Every day you will notice. You'll notice the headphone he has in his ear, just like yours. You'll notice how his eyes scan for a seat. You'll notice how he stands.

You'll also notice how he doesn't notice you.

Because you watch. You don't speak.

Because you're shy.

You're invisible.

Fucking invisible.

And God, does it hurt.

Sincerely,

You think you've got someone down, their personality, their thoughts, their likes/dislikes, and then they say something or do something and now you just don't know what to think. One racist remark, one biased comment, one long look, and your opinion has changed.

Whether it was the kid in my class who said some racist comment about mexicans, the kid who I THOUGHT was my friend, or the beautiful, beautiful boy who looked at me a bit too much to be normal today, opinions have changed.

God, can you please explain this one to me?

Sincerely,
A girl with red glasses and freckled cheeks

Paper Time

Oh will someone please murder my college professors so I can have some free-time instead of all this work? Yes, the time of the year when everyone wants their professors dead, "Paper Time" has finally come. The time when papers are due and tests are issued.

Anyway, one paper done, one to go, and still three major tests to complete. Fun fun fun. And THEN I can start writing again, just pray that I'm granted with inspiration.

I've started at least one major project already. I'm not sure what to call it, or where to post it, but I'll figure something out when I'm more together. So here's an excerpt, that I am oh-so willing to share with you.

Eyes locked, heart pounding, palms sweating, breath held--I spotted him. His eyes were the darkest shade of brown, matching his curly hair. His mouth parted to utter a simple "wow" to his friend. I tried to recover myself quick enough to smile, becaust this wasn't a fairytale, this was real.

Yeah, still don't know what to do with that one...

Spring Break 2011

Spring break 2011... You want to hear that I'm going to Cancun or Myrtle Beach, huh? Hell, I kind of want to hear that. However, I will be visiting colleges across NC.

That sounds bad. Erm, let me rephrase that.

This spring break (2011), I'll be traveling across mountains and valleys with my high school to visit places of excitement, intelligence, and of course, parties!

That sounds too excited.

Let's just say, I don't get excited easily. At least for trips. Waking up at God knows when to be at my school by 6:30 am to hop on a charter bus and travel from college to college. Having a different roommate EVERY night (oh how I loathe Gibbs for this).

BUT, on the plus side, I won't be lonely this year! That's the part I'm looking forward to the most, well that and seeing UNC.

Barbara Loretta Gomez

Barbara Loretta Gomez was simply beautiful. She had dark hair and matching dark eyes along with a tiny waist and petite features. She was elegant, kind, and loved the bad boys. She had two sisters who were just as similar to her as they were different. One was responsible, stern, intelligent. The other was loud, funny, free. Barbara was outgoing—never bashful, sweet, funny, sometimes a bit controlling, but if you knew her, you knew it was because she just loved so much.
One day she met Walter Nowak. He wasn’t exactly what she wanted—that is until he was exactly what her mother hated. He was good looking, definitely her type, there was attraction, but love? She wasn’t so sure. She married him though, just to spite her mother. They had three children, Pamela, Scott, and Janet. Barbara knew she didn’t love Walter when she met Pam. Pam was her first daughter, and Pam taught her was love really was.
The relationship with Walter began to spiral downward. He would come home from his gas station business, and hide whatever money he made from her and the children. The life wasn’t easy, but it was what they had. Barbara would have unexplained bruises, and Walter would have unexplained girlfriends. It wasn’t working.
They got a divorce. There wasn’t ever a custody issue, for most of her children were old enough to decide for themselves where they wanted to be. Barbara wanted to be wherever her Pam was though. From New Jersey to North Carolina, Pam was never without her mom. Through her own hard times, getting married, having Brian, getting divorced, having Gary, getting married again, losing two babies, then finally having a girl, the girl she always wanted, Katie.
Barbara by far favored Brian and Katie over Gary, but that was alright with him, his other Grandma was there to understand. Brian may have been her little Prince, but Katie was her angel, and boy, did she love angels.
For thirteen years life was as it always is, hard. A few trips to the hospital, many tears later, Barbara would come out alright, a bump or scratch and a few prescriptions later. Brian had long moved out, as did Gary, but Gary as was still around, Brian was lost. Lost to smoking, sex, poverty, all the temptations. He dropped out of college, had a son, then gave him up for adoption. His grandmother, Barbara was the only person he would talk to, because with her, he wasn’t reprimanded, or scolded for his mistakes. He was told he was loved.
Gary watched as Brian made mistakes, and attempted to avoid them himself. He also quit college, but only because he could no longer afford it. Gary dated the same girl for seven years. It was his first girlfriend. He loved her.
Katie was getting older, but Barbara didn’t notice. She still saw her little angel, no matter what she was told. Katie would get easily annoyed with being babied. She didn’t understand, then how much she actually didn’t mind all the attention. Katie reached middle school, and that’s when everything went to pot. She learned curse words, she lost her childish innocence, she learned about sex. Within a year, she wasn’t the same as she was before. She was still Barbara’s angel though.
When Katie reached seventh grade, Barbara became sick. She was sent to hospital after hospital. Katie was told what was wrong, but didn’t understand it. One day, Pam and Katie went to visit her in the hospital. It wasn’t an exciting visit. Katie was anxious to get out, to go shopping, to not be stuck in that boring room with the television playing a show that no one knew and the old Grandmother who was dozing off mid-conversation. Katie regrets this moment.
A few weeks later (after an unsuccessful surgery), as she was being picked up from school, her Dad came. She was expecting her mother. She asked him where Pam was and he told her. “They’re letting her go.”
She hadn’t even said a proper goodbye. Tears started to fall, and she started screaming. She wasn’t ready for this yet. She wasn’t ready. She hadn’t told her how much she loved her. She hadn’t told her everything yet. She wasn’t ready.
It was a hard time for the family. Brian no longer had someone to tell him how much he was loved. Gary no longer had his Grammy. Katie no longer was babied. It wasn’t right.
When time came for the funeral, Brian realized he would have to face his family after two long years of avoiding them. When he drove down the driveway, Katie bounded down the stairs to greet him. She didn’t recognize him. If she wasn’t told that this man in front of her was her brother, she wouldn’t have known.
The funeral wasn’t fun. The family was surrounded by “I’m sorry for your loss” and Katie felt as if she were drowning in tears, stories, and old pictures. She didn’t want to hear, “She loved you so much” she just wanted her back.
...
Two years later, the family was one again. Brian was still making mistakes, but he was happy. His family was there for him to tell him, I love you. Gary was no longer with his first love, Gary was exploring, trying to figure out who he really was. Katie entered high school. She had passed through her middle school years, and anyone who has ever been to middle school knows that this is the worst time.
They all missed her. Brian, Gary, Katie, Pam, Scott, Janet, and all the others Barbara had touched. The missed her like hell.
One of the many things that the family got from her was a crystal for decoration. They placed it in their kitchen window and on sunny days, at ten o’clock, she comes to them. Just as the sun hits the crystal, millions of rainbows litter the kitchen. And with a smile, she is greeted, “Hi Grammy.”

"The Party That Must Not Be Named"

"The Party That Must Not Be Named" resembles Democrats in many ways, first we support Gay Marriage, are Pro-Choice, support Education, believe in lowering taxes on necessities, etc, etc.

Our Presidential runner's main goals are true and strong. She is a determined young lady who... well... "A vote for Liz, will make you jizz!"

Our potential Vice President (moi) is amazing. Enough said.

Our Party Whip is very perverted, slightly stupid, and an all-around funny guy.

Our Party Designer, is a pretty, smart young lady who enjoys talk of zombies.

And Emily is just... slightly retarded, but we had to include her.

Not to mention the Party Bus Driver, whom, may I say, is superfuckingcute. Especially with his quirky T-shirts and crinkly eyes... *swoon*

The symbol for "The Party That Must Not Be Named" is simply--get this--an otter holding a wand.

Soo... hope to see you in the voting booth soon!

"A vote for us, is a vote for the Party Bus!"
(and it's driver!)

It's official, I'm a goonie.

So, it's official. I have decided that I need to write more. I've got the emotions down-pat, I'm just missing the plot... If anybody is out there and reading this, help?

So lovely

The couch is a lovely place. Have you ever noticed? It's just so warm and inviting and very much distracting. Especially when there's a computer on your lap and Beatles songs playing on the radio.

I mean, this situation just opens up loads of scenarios that wouldn't be possible if the couch weren't so lovely. So much work could be accomplished if this couch weren't here. There wouldn't be a large yellow dog with her head on my knee, if this couch weren't here.

I really should sit somewhere else...

Falling in love with Voldemort

Damn. You'd think that a life would be fine in a year. Let me tell you, it's like I've fallen in love with Voldemort. Pretty awful. Now I'm not saying that Voldemort would be so bad... especially if he had nice, curly dark hair... and tan skin.... and was considerably taller than me... and and the same taste in music as I do... That. Now that wouldn't be so bad.

Except that Voldemort is pale, bald, evil, and nose-less. See my predicament?