Saturday, July 31, 2010

All The Random Sh*t Running Through My Head

Dear Bloggie,

     So this is going to be my last post for a while. Why you ask? One, like my one reader (Cat) is on vacation in Ireland for two weeks (HAVE A GREAT TRIP CAT!!!!!!) and two, I noticed that I have almost 50 (!) posts. I don’t want my 50th post to be complete and utter nonsense; I want it to be special. So I’m going to hold off blogging for a while. Not forever, maybe just until the end of the month. Just in time to give you my summer book reviews. Right now I have read 18 books. My goal is 32. Not sure if I’m going to make it but I hope so.

     My book is doing OK. It’s at 287. I’m starting to get scared though. It was at 284. If it keeps on climbing higher in numbers instead of lower, I might end back up on the 300 list. I don’t want that at all!

     Angela’s blog is almost finished. It’s not perfect, but I might as well just let you see it. So here it is. Hope you like it. :)

     Yesterday was my last day of camp. It was sorta sad to say goodbye, even if only for a little while. I’m going to miss them. Still, at least i get to see some of them on August 11th when we go to Six Flags New England. Hopefully this year will go better than last’s.

     My grandfather left for vacation yesterday. He won’t be back until early September so I’m stuck going to my mom’s job everyday starting Monday. At least I get a break for a week since we plan on taking a vacation week from the 8th to the 15th. :)

     I’m bored so I’m going to stop blogging now. I have swaps to catch up with anyways.


Wednesday, July 28, 2010


Dear Bloggie,

     If I don’t get this out now I’m going to go crazy! I was about to go to sleep when I decided to check my inkpop and Facebook. Nothing new on inkpop, but on Facebook I had a friend request. From Delfina. Yes, my old best friend. I thought I would never see her again in my life. Not in a I-don’t-want-to-see-her-ever-again way, but in a she-lives-in-Argentina-and-the-odds-of-us-ever-talking-again-are-slim-to-none. But still, here I am writing down the fact that we did talk.

     The thing about Delfina was that she was one of my first friends outside the people I consider my family. When she left for Argentina when we were 3 or 4 I was upset, but then she came back for Kindergarten. Our friendship wasn't the same and we fought a lot. Not real fighting, but she and I argued and sometimes tried to exclude each other. Neither one of us are innocent though, I’m not proud of my past. But still, after my old school closed down and she moved to Argentina, it was her – not Veronica, my other best friend who Delfina and I constantly fought over for her attention – who tried to contact me. Sadly I wasn’t home when she called and felt uncomfortable calling back out of fear that someone besides her would pick up. That was the end. Or so I thought.

       She might come in visit next year which is great. I would love to see her. We all had our roles to play. Out of the three off us, Veronica was the center of attention. She was wild and could make people do things. I guess she was the Queen Bee. Delfina was the pretty one though. Veronica had the outgoing personality, but Delfina was defiantly the pretty one. I was looking at her pictures and that defiantly has not changed. She’s way always about my height – something that seems to be the same – and has long wavy light brown hair with light blue-grey eyes and an olive complexion. I always wished I could look more like her. Last but not least was me. I was the quiet, slightly bossy, and boy crazy one. I always had a crush and tried to tell people what to do. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. Still I for the most part kept to myself.

    Something I always found funny was how our birthdays fell. Delfina came first, born of February 3, 1996. Then there’s me, born on March 13, 1996. And last, but defiantly not least, there is Veronica, born April 6, 1996. February, March, April. One after another. If I could go back I don’t know what I would have done. Stayed friends with Nicole? Defiantly. Stayed friends with Delfina? I think so…if my excitement from hearing from her is any indication. Stayed friends with Veronica? That’s another story. What happened with us at school is forgivable, how we changed when we met up at camp is another story. But she seems to have changed again. I think Delfina put it best. when we went to school Veronica was like a Barbie. Now she’s changed a lot. Looking at her pictures I see she’s a punk and looks like she’s a rocker. You know what. I’m going to post a photo of all three of us so you can see how different we are from each other.

me grad redhead







     We quite the motley crew aren't we? Still, it’s good to know that we all have changed and grown up. Maybe all we need to do id give each other a chance. Veronica seems like someone I would actually like and Delfina seems to want to really get know me again. I hope this works out. It can be fun. :)


Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Walking On Sunshine

Dear Bloggie,

     First, the slightly bad news: I missed my bus to camp this morning. It doesn’t really bother me. I only make 5.40 a day so it’s not like that place is my livelihood. Somehow I’ll survive.

     Second, the good news: I got a really good review today. For the most part (except for one girl who sorta bitched me out, but I hadn't liked her story – she really sucks, not that I said that of course – and had told her so, but in a nice you-have-a-good-story-here-but-you-can-improve sorta way) my reviews have been good. But in this one the girl actually asked for me to let her know when I update. Here, I’ll copy and paste it:

For the swap. Okay so I've read a lot of books on this site. But this was by far the funniest. What can I say? This was awesome. Usually I stop around chapter 2 but I couldn't stop reading here. Your main character is great and the format makes for really easy reading. I now have a whole new take on the Teletubbies. It reminds of something Georgia Nicholson would write. There were a few spelling errors though and a little bit of problems with word endings. Lol but I'll leave the technical edits to someone who has more time than I to type them out. However I think a few errors with this kind of writing would be okay, because as we all know when writing, there's always that one word we forget how to spell. I'm so picking this and please let me know when you update. Thanks.

I’m so happy, what can I say? I know what I can say:

Now I'm walking on sunshine, oh oh!
I'm walking on sunshine, oh oh!
I'm walking on sunshine, oh oh!
And don't it feel good!


Monday, July 26, 2010


Dear Bloggie,

      I’m reading this book called Boys, Girls, & Other Hazardous Materials by Rosalind Wiseman – the author of Queen Bees & Wannbes, the basis for one of my favorite movies ever, Mean Girls.

blog pic, boys, girls, and other hazardous materials

      Obviously, when I saw her book on Meg Cabot's blog I needed to get it. I mean, a book written by the author of the basis of Mean Girls is already a good enough reason to buy it. But add in the fact the woman I basically consider the American queen of teen books (Judy Blume having passed down the crown and Louise Rennison being the queen of teen in England) having recommended it, makes it impossible for me not to. But I’m not done!

      On top of all that, Tina Fey, one of my three favorite comedians (the other two being Chelsea Handler and Amy Poehler) praised the book and gave it a quote – the words on the notebook – which reads:

“You can’t put this book down…or it will talk about you while you’re out of the room.” – Tina Fey

      Well if that isn’t the comedy cherry on my book cake, nothing is!

      But telling you that I’m reading a book isn’t why I’m blogging today. Why I’m blogging is that while I beginning the book, I’m came across a passage that read like this:

     On the other hand, I can be slow to admit the obvious. Painfully slow. That, combined with my other major personal weakness of occasionally having no backbone with my friends meant that I had to get a grip and do two things: First, I finally admitted to myself that my best friends were actually my frenemies. (You know, girls I didn’t trust 100 percent, but for some reason were my closest friends.) Second, when I graduated from eighth last year, I ran at the first opportunity, which in my case took the form of transferring to another high school so I could hopefully meet cool, interesting, nonevil, nonvindictive friends.

             –  Boys, Girls, & Other Hazardous Materials, Rosalind Wiseman

     I can sorta relate to this. Serena and Neena weren’t/aren’t evil, but did/do I fully trust them? Hell no! Do I think they fully trusted me? Again – hell no! But that is nothing new. I would like to say it’s all Neena’s fault, but truthfully I never wholly trusted Serena even before Neena came into the picture. There was always that voice in the back of my mind that asked “Can you really tell her this secret/thought? Is it smart to tell her? Maybe she’ll tell people? She probably will. Why didn’t you keep it to yourself? See, she told! You knew but still you told her! Why? Maybe she’ll be different next time? Just maybe she’ll be just as loyal as you’ve been to her? But it probably won’t happen. Just use the past as an example…”

     This is my thinking pattern when it came to Serena. And a major factor behind the reason why I didn’t tell her that I liked Matthew (previously called Luke, but now I might as well tell you his real name) until eighth grade when all the girls told each other who we like/liked. To be truthful, at the time I had no problem telling all the girls…except for Neena and Serena. Neena because I thought she would tell Serena and Serena because I thought she would tell everyone else. And in the end I was right.

      That’s why we had the third fight. Because following our second fight, during which we made up after talking out what we had done to hurt/ bug the other one – my problem being that she told people my secrets while I never told hers, except once to Cat when I was pissed at Serena, but that was an old secret – she went and told Corey – one of my best guy friends – that I liked Matthew. Yes, I trust Corey(he never told anyone), but the point was she shouldn’t have said anything to anyone. Even Corey.

     But this problem with frenemies is nothing new to me. I had one true best friend when I was little that I could trust with anything – her name is Nicole. Unfortunately I was stupid and wanted to be popular so I ended up brushing her off – though at the age of five/six I didn’t realize I was brushing her off until I was older. Sadly she left after Kindergarten so I never got to apologize and mend the damage. If I had, I truly believe we would have  still been friends to this day. I think I’ve told you all this before, but seeing as it’s my greatest regret, I mention this story a lot.

     Now I didn’t just brush off poor Nicole for anyone. No I brushed her off for Delfina ( a girl who I went to preschool with when I was three and who then moved to Argentina until she Kindergarten, which she came back to the U.S. for ) and Veronica. Both of who never treated me that well. But I turn a blind eye and pretended everything was good. They were my first frenemies.

      I guess that's also why I chose to go to the Art Academy. Not only because it’s my dream school, but also because I won’t know anyone there. As much as that scares me, I want to reinvent myself. I’m going to see if I can get people to call me by my nickname and I’m going to try to be more out going and less bossy. This school will give me that. the only people who will know me will be a couple kids who used to go to SBS, but they are all older than me and didn’t know me that well. Perfect.


Saturday, July 24, 2010

Angela Ellis, NOT Likeable?

Dear Bloggie,

    I’m still on cloud nine (my book is ranked 461!!!!!!) but now I’m a little gigly. What happened was I was reading the feedback from my fellow inkpopers when I came a cross one that went like this:

As you can tell[,] I still haven't forgive[n] her

If this is written in a journal-type format, you might consider having her call "my mom and dad" just plain "Mom" and "Dad." Because the journal knows who they are. It adds a little bit of authenticity to it.
You have a few names that are spelled a little too "special," I think. We have Lindsea, Vicie, and Ami. Can you make her just Amy, or just Vicky? Even Vickie? Too many "young like" spelling takes the reader out of the story. One or two are fine, but you want to keep us involved. Wait, now there is also Gorgy and Markey. Why are they spelled so strangely? Also, halfway through chapter one, Renee gets an accept over her name. Be careful.
Some guy she just met started groping her in the pool? Holy crap, she needs to slap him, and slap him hard. That's so not okay. I feel bad that she was more worried about the cotton balls in her shirt than the fact that this dude just practically assaulted her.
Oh my gosh, why is she letting him get away with this!? THE GUY JUST GROPED HER. IN PUBLIC. HE JUST MET HER. WHAT THE FRICK. ...AND HE DOES IT A SECOND TIME? Thank god she runs away, that is so... dklgjghldakj!!! UGH! All right, so you've got me hooked into the story and not liking your main character a little bit, and really not liking this Willie guy (what a great name, btw). One of the things that I really like is that I can actually see someone writing like this in her journal. It's believable.
Her list at the top of chapter two--NICE! Especially #1. Sisters everywhere can not their heads in agreement at this. It's so hard to get out of a sibling's shadow. And the balance with the second list: perfect!
She thinks that Cosmo is inappropriate filth? Well, she is fourteen, so I guess I can take that, but... wow, that's a young mindset. Nicely characterized.
Err... okay, very nicely characterized teenager moment, "My family needs professional help." It sounds more like she needs a good slapping, if she's going to get away with yelling rude things like that to her parents--yikes!
So far, I have to say that I'm really enjoying this. She makes an interesting character who isn't very likable (most fourteen year olds aren't), but she's definitely believable. I can't wait to see what else she gets up to. Definitely tossed on my picks!

    Angela Ellis, NOT likeable?!? I never thought of this. Maybe because Angela is sorta me….hmm this is troubling on a whole other level. The commenter is 23, not that old, but I guess she considers being 14 an immature age. That’s half true, but I guess I thought only guys were immature at 14, not girls. Again this is troubling.

   But I guess she liked the book, which I’m happy about, but the fact she doesn’t like Angela bothers me. I love Angela Ellis! She is sarcastic and witty and is just overall a little on the wild side. She says things that are odd and brash and only realizes that maybe she shouldn’t have said those things after when they blow up in her face. Yes, she is boy crazy and a little desperate (as another commenter pointed out – but in a funny I like this book way-) but she is who she is. Plus, Cosmo is inappropriate – there is a reason my mom won’t let me get it or even Cosmo Girl!

    OK, I need to get ready for a party so more later.

    ~ Libby

Friday, July 23, 2010


Dear Bloggie.

     Life is odd. I know what I’m so suddenly popular on inkpop. What happen is that one of the “trendsetters” choose my book for their picks list. That simple action caused almost ten people to also pick my book and for three to put it on their watch list. All because a trendsetter thought my story was interesting. I’m happy, but at the same time I’m not.

     My book is being picked because it’s “In”, not because people love it like crazy. How else would you explain nine picks (except for Cat because I know she actually likes it, and maybe for one this other girl who had also loved Becoming) and three watches when i only have two comments and both of them are that they like it but think I’m “telling not showing”. Well of course I’m telling not showing, it’s diary style novel. You tell your diary your life, not show it. Any other type of book I would understand, but this one is different.

     I don’t know, life is weird today. Again I’m up until almost three o'clock in the morning (2:56 am to be exact) trying to get people to read my book around inkpop and posting on my blog out of sheer frustration. I really need to stop taking out my problems on you. It’s not nice.


Thursday, July 22, 2010


Dear Bloggie,

    Last night I posted an entry about how I finally got C.O.A.O.P up on inkpop. As you know I was really excited and all ready to take inkpop by storm. Well, I might have said that but I never in a million years really thought it would happen. I mean it’s my most recent dream – to see my name on the top five list, hoping for number 1 but knowing that if I make number 5 I won’t disappointed – but as the day went on all I got was nothing. Whenever I get a comment on inkpop I get an email (like I do for Facebook) notifying me. No such email came. No surprise.

    At most I only had seven people who ever put Becoming on their picks list, three of those being friends and one of them being me. Even then, that was after two or three months of asking and swapping. Yeah, obviously Becoming didn’t fair so well. Again not surprised since it really sucks. That's why I put it aside until I’m older (like 18) and have developed my writing skills.

    When I got home from camp I decided to make a new  cover. My old cover looked lie this:

C.O.A.O.P cover 2

    I know, it’s mediocre at best. So I created a new one which looks like this:


   Yep much better. This one expresses the book way better. Angela E. has an obsession with red shoes since she just LOVES the movie The Wizard of Oz. It took me forever to make it though since. Finding a nice picture of red shoes is a lot harder than it sounds. Now back to the point.

   Given my rough road with Becoming, you can imagine my surprise when I go to upload the new cover and notice that three people have already put C.O.A.O.P on their picks list and one on their watch list! It hasn’t even been 24 hours. I worked really hard on the story (still am) and I am so appreciative that someone out their likes my story besides me. I’m overfilling with giddiness!!!

     I’m going to stop typing now and go return the read now so I can stay on peoples’ good graces. :)


Inkpop, Ready Or Not Here I Come!!!!!!!! :)

Dear Bloggie,

     This is a really quick post just because I wanted to inform you that Confessions of an Optimistic Pessimist: Love & Other Absurd Forces is up on inkpop! I finally got the fourth chapter finished and was able to post it like five minutes ago. If anyone who reads this blog has an inkpop account please comment. Just clicked on the highlighted book title above and it’ll bring you right to it.

     I’m just so happy. I might actually finish this book. My deadline is suppose to be August 29th or 3oth, the same day I expect to finish off my real life dairy so I can have a new one for high school. Now it’s 2:34am and I have camp tomorrow so i better get to sleep. I stayed up extra late tonight just to write the chapter. I’m so going to regret it in the morning. What else is new…


Monday, July 19, 2010


Dear Bloggie,

    Almost forgot to mention my playlist. I was checking up on the blogs I follow, when I noticed that one of the authors ( a struggling author like me, except she’s like 22 or 23 and has resorted to self-publishing with Create A Space, something I will never do unless I’m like 35 and still unpublished) has the playlist of her her novel up on her blog.

     Having gone through the Twilight fever, playlists for a a novel is nothing new to me. Actually I first saw it with one of my favorite novels, Wicked Lovely by Melissa Marr. Seeing as I looked up to both of these women at one time (still like Melissa Marr, but Stephanie Meyer got on my nerves), I of course have a playlist for Becoming. It’s still missing some songs – a lot of songs – but I can’t think of any right now so I just made the playlist with what I had.

    The colors that I used on the Playlist, are my dream colors if i ever god published. Twilight has red (blood), white (pale skin, good), and black (darkness, spooky aspect, bad). Well I want Becoming’s colors to be violet (for the eye, magic, power), blue (eye color, magic, example of water standing for new life), and black (darkness, spooky aspect, giving into your inter demons, power to do bad if you chose). Probably won’t happen, but a girl can dream.


Just Because

Dear Bloggie,

     So…what’s up? I’m not very sure what this post will be about. I have a post planned, but I don’t really have time to use that idea right. Plus, I have to finish the last one part before I can write it. This weekend I spent most of the time surfing On Demand for movies. There have been some movies I’ve wanted to watch for a while that I finally got a chance to so now I’m in a good mood.

     I dedicate most of my life to reading and writing, so watching four movies this weekend was a big treat. Well almost four. As I hinted I didn’t finish the last one yet. That’s what my next post will be, my reviews in the different movies. Maybe I'll hold off posting about that for now so I can watch even more. There are two On Demand movies I’ve have my eye on. I might succumb to the temptation and watch them. Even though I should be working on my C.O.A.O.P story.

     I’m getting really excited about it. I’m at 9, 487 words by now. Technically I only need 513 more words before I can post it on Inkpop, I can’t really post in until I finish chapter four. It’s not really a chapter, but for storing and uploading reasons I call each day a chapter. Because I’m so excited I’m going to post and except from the next chapter. This is one of my favorites entries to write by now. Hope you like it. Let me know what you think…well if you want to comment. You don’t have to obviously.


Monday, Still at Lunch, 12:30pm

   Support and understanding, hahaha! What a joke that turned out to be. So I was finishing up writing my last entry when Lindsea finally came out of the lunch line and noticed. Being my kind and supportive best friend she went, “You’re still writing in that thing? I thought you said that you weren’t going to keep a diary because – like your (failed) attempts at a blog – you have nothing interesting to write about?”

   To which I responded, “And what is so wrong with wishful thinking, hmm? Maybe my life is about to take a turn for the best, finally?”

   Lindsea gave me this look that…well I don’t know how to describe. It basically looks like she was about to laugh, but then decided what I said was stupid and I was acting immature. I might have been more offended at that moment, but I’ve seen that look so many times that it doesn’t even faze me.

   “It could happen! Maybe I’ll suddenly find out I’m really a princess and this diary will become a real version of The Princess Diaries?”

   Not that I would want to be a princess. I mean, if I were a princess I would never end up ruling some small European country located near Italy and France – which would be so awesome since both Italy and France are on my vacation wish list. No, with my luck it would be some crap country between Russia and Ukraine where they consider Prince a new and upcoming artist, both men and women have to shave their beards daily, and everyone would go around talking with an accent that is mash up of Dracula and Hitler.

   I guess I really should be grateful my father isn’t a prince; my life would be total crapola if he was. It’s no secret that the good genes reside on my mom’s side. Even though her family has been in America since shortly before World War II, her side – all aunts, uncles and cousins of various degrees included – has remained purely Irish. Well, that was until she married Dad who is a mix of Germen, British, Scottish, Polish, and French Canadian. You can see why Grandmother Elaine and Grandfather Patrick (God rest his soul) were appalled by the notion at first. Hell, Grandma E (a name she would kill me for if she new I called her behind her back) still gives Mom dirty looks whenever Dad messes up or says something stupid – which is, like, always.

   I guess the fact that it was a shotgun wedding didn’t cushion the blow that my mom was marrying the human equivalent of a mutt.

Saturday, July 17, 2010

It’s Alive, It’s Alive!!!!!!!!!!!

Dear Bloggie,

      I would just like to start off by saying I know this will sound like I’m losing my mind and all, but I’m not. Really. I’m not the only person to do this and most likely will not be the last. It’s quite normal when you think about it. Well not normal, but since I stand by the truth that anybody who is a fiction writer (maybe even nonfiction writers, but I’m not so sure about them) is off their hat*, I consider this at least a bit normal. My great idol Meg Cabot even did this. Actually, I thought of this before I discovered Meg Cabot had already thought of it too, so that made me really proud. You know what they say, great minds think alike.

     Your probably think “What the hell is she talking about?”, so I’m just going to say it. I have started a second blog. One that belongs to Angela Ellis. Yes, you read that correctly – my made up fictional character has a blog. But as I said earlier I’m not the first to do this. Meg Cabot did this for her character Mia Thermopolis, protagonist of the Princess Diaries series. I found the link the other day on Meg Cabot’s blog and checked it out. I didn’t really read it though. I’m still reading the series and I don’t want to know what happens in the end anymore than I already know. After I’m done reading the series I’ll read the blog too.

    So you see I’m not that nuts. I actually think it’ll be fun. Plus, I’ll get to know Angela better. Any writer knows that the key to writing any good story is to know your character to a point that you’re no longer the author, they are. That’s what I’m doing: Getting to know Angela Ellis inside and out. It’s funny actually how much I get into writing.

   On Thursday I had the last scene of the book stuck in my head so I wrote it out. Of course I don’t know everything that is going to happen, so I had to make some up as I went. I was almost done and I had something planned for Angel’s cousin Missy – all ready to write it out – when I realized it was wrong. Missy wouldn’t act that way. Missy is weak but strong. She wants something so badly even though in the end it’s bad for her. And yes, she will regret it and change her mind later and chose the right thing, but not yet. She’s like the rest of us – complicated.

    That’s the part of writing that I always have to remember, I can’t make the choices for them. These characters can not merely be fake. Fake characters equal fake people. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to read about fake people. In the end of the day they aren’t made out of flesh and bones, but they might as well be. They have a spirit to them. That’s why I love writing. I create. Not things, but people. Life. Stories that will chase your imagination. That’s why I read, that's why I write. 

    I wish I could explain that to Serena. One thing that she always had a problem with was that she didn’t understand my love for writing. why I love to talk about it and the people I make real through words. She used to like to write, but it lost her interest. Sadly, it lost her interest just as it grabbed mine so tight that the jaws of life couldn’t free me. Obviously you can see why that can turn into a problem.

   Talking about Serena, we talked today. Not in person of course – I haven’t talked to any of my friends in person yet. She wrote on my Facebook wall today that she was trying to post some videos of me, her and Neena from our 8th grade retreat to Holiday Hill. I liked that post, commented that I hope it worked since I was thinking about the videos earlier this week and then decided to write on her wall. nothing much, just asking what she had been up to since we had only talked once since graduation. I’ve decided I want to try. I don’t believe it will work, but I want to try to stay in touch. We’ll see how it goes.

    So on the funny side of life, there was this kid in my class who had been a really big douche bag. I mean, whenever he didn’t get his way he went running to his mom to go fix his problems. All of us really disliked him for that since his Momzilla was really annoying and always making things worse. On his end of the year speech – we all had to give one but some of us got to give it on a special night, him and I being two of them – he said he had found greater meaning and all. We all hoped so. He actually seemed to be getting better. Recently I found out he turned towards Buddhism, which is probably why he seems to have changed. Thank god, it was really getting bad for him.

    These are his last two Facebook status updates:

“Who we are never changes. Who we think we are does.”
“The secret to happiness is not in doing what one likes to do, but in liking what one has to do.”

    Hopefully this means he’s changed for the better. What I don’t get is that he wants to join the army when he gets older, but aren’t Buddhists suppose to be all peaceful? Whatever, I hope this works for him. Though after finding out that the guy who is basically mentoring him has this** as his about me for Facebook, I do wonder.

    Okay, so this post is getting to be way too long. I’m going to finish up by saying I have three songs I strongly recommend you check out. The first two come from the Kick-Ass soundtrack. I went to see the movie when it came out and had loved it, so as soon as I got home I checked out the sound track…only to find out I loved it too! The songs are:

      Make Me Wanna Die ~ The Pretty Reckless

     Starry Eyed ~ Ellie Goulding

   Truthfully, I love the whole soundtrack. I really do. But these two are the ones who stuck out the most for me. Okay, now the third song. Even though I really didn’t like Eclipse – I consider it the worst of three by now – I totally loved the soundtrack. It amazes me how a movie so bad, can have a soundtrack full of music that is so good. Right now I’m totally unloved with one of the songs. 

     My Love ~ Sia

    I couldn’t find a version of the video that was just the music with pictures of the singer or any official video, so instead I found a version that they made it with clips from the show Vampire Diaries. It’s not the best, but since I don’t like Twilight that much, it was either Vampire Diaries fan made video or Twilight fan made videos. Obviously I chose right. Plus, Ian  Somerhalder is supper hot. Can you believe he’s almost 32? I know, he looks like he’s 25! Hmm, 18 years apart…four more years before we could legally date…maybe it could work…? Wait for me my love! Kidding, sorta….

future husband                                                                    HOT, HOT, HOT!!!!!!! :)

    So I guess that’s it for today. Oh, I just remembered something I forgot to say about Angela’s blog. It’s still in progress, but as soon as I’m finished I’ll post the link. I tried to make another blog with this account, but I couldn’t changed the About Me part on one without changing the other. Instead I created a whole other account. I even had to make another Yahoo mail because they recognized my email! The only thing is that now I don’t know how to delete the other blog (the one I made with this goggle account, but then couldn’t use because of the About Me part) so I have a totally useless blog just sitting there. If anybody happens to know if/how you delete a blog, please let me know.

     ~ Libby

P.S. This whole post was created and posted through Window Live Writer! This makes it so much easier to post with. Plus, I can have both of my blogs on Windows Live without having to sign in and out to reach them. I love technology, it makes life simpler.

*off your/their hat means you’re/they’re crazy, bonkers, mad, nuts! I first heard it in the Tim Burton version of Alice in Wonderland. Alice’s father says it to her in the beginning when she asks him if he thinks she’s mad for dreaming about a place that turns out to be Wonderland. Not that we didn’t already guess that since most are familiar with the story.

**You ask me who I am. I'm a simple stranger seeking the answers as I walk upon this land
Mother Earth has given me her classroom to learn all I can
The Great Spirit has shown me the animals to teach me and understand all that I am
I try to live in peace and harmony
For we are all one in this universe and we belong to it's vast
The winds of change are no longer coming
They have already begun
Listen all around you for the paths will soon be clear
Look for the signs around you the time is almost here
You ask who I am
I am a simple stranger seeking truth upon this land
And when my time here has ended I will come back and seek the path again

Friday, July 16, 2010

Ramblings Of A Mad (As In Crazy) Teenage

Hi Bloggie,
So I'm basically blogging from camp today. Okay, there is no I basically. Right now I'm sitting in the computer lab, trying to make a post out of something so insignificant it doesn't even belong as a Facebook status update. Yeah, not something easy. Trust me. But since I'm beyond the valley of the bored and approaching the graveyard of the dulled to death - I have break from 12 on for the rest of the camp day every Friday (during which I normally swim), but seeing as I'm recovering from an ear infection (that's what that ear ache turned to be) I can't swim this week - I might as well ramble on my blog. That is what blogs are basically for. Rambling that is.

Only two people at most read this so it's not like I'm really wasting someone's time. Though I am sorry for those two people. But on the other hand, when have I ever had anything really interesting to say? Never. So you should be used to it.

You know what I'm going to save you the torture and stop rambling now. Maybe I'll read. Nah, the book I'm reading right now isn't catching my attention like others have this summer. I've read 15 books this summer. Two of those I was technically read while I was still in school, but in my mind graduation week doesn't count. All you do is talk, remember, try on clothes, try not to cry, and practice a skill you've had mastered (for the most part, unless you're like me and have no balance) for almost thirteen or fourteen years - walking.

Since graduation life has only shifted a bit. I'm still driven to write, but now I actually have the time to. That basically means that my time for excuses has ended. I'm going to a school where writing is going to be my major. With the exception of Cat, I was one of the top writers in my class. I even got voted so in the year book - though I think Cat should have won instead, seeing as she got the award in English or/and Literature from our English/Lit teacher, Mr. Marino, but whatever. I also got voted most talkative, but that is no surprise. I've had that in the bag since third, fourth, fifth grade. I'm sure the kids at camp would never believe that, I'm so quiet here it's sad. Now back to the point.

The point is that I was so proud of myself for being up there in writing. I want to be the top at it, reach goals my competition can never dream of reaching. Which is wrong, I know. but I want to be the best. I've never cared about being the best in anything, except for this. Writing.

I used to be good in Math, but ever since they added the alphabet it...yeah nothing good happened in Math after that. History and I are and will always be frienemies, while on the other hand Geography and I will fight until the end, only one of us coming out victories. Science isn't on any better terms with me than Geo, but astrology and phychology classes in the future will most likely make up for the harsh feelings we have for each other right now. And don't even get me started with Spanish...! The language itself isn't bad, but I've had three bad (two crazy and one so-so) Spanish teachers so I have been turned off the subject forever. I'm hoping that in high school I can convince the principal (his name is Eric Bernstein, strange that I remember that. Well I think it's Bernstein, but I don't know for sure. I'm sure about the Eric part.) to add French or Latin (maybe both) to the language choices.

For a post that I didn't even know what to write, I wrote and awful lot. Sometimes I surprise myself. It's like a quote I like:

"I am so clever sometimes I don't even understand a single word of what I'm saying."
-Oscar Wilde

~Libby :)

Testing. One, Two, Three

So I’m posting this a little differently today. I actually was able to figure out how to connect my blog to my Windows Live Writer. Considering my computer skills, I’m basically Bill Gates. I’ll talk more tomorrow. Today's post was just a test drive to see if this works. I have a lot to talk about but it’s late so that’s for another day.   

     ~ Libby                        

Friday, July 9, 2010

Confessions of an Optimistic Pessimist: Life, Love, & Other Absurd Forces Chapter 1

Dear Bloggie,
So this is the first chapter of Confessions of an Optimistic Pessimist. I'm not totally happy with chapter two yet or I would have posted it. Maybe soon, but themmI'm at almost 7,000 words so soon I'll be posting on inkpop anyways. Hope you like it.

P.S. I know, the cover is corny, but whatever. I couldn't find any pictures that went with what I had in mind, so I just made a simple cover.

Saturday June 5th, My bedroom, 5:00pm

There are ten things I must achieve throughout my sad, sad existence before I die of loserdomness:

1. Stop only being known as Nate or Philip’s little sister.
2. Get Ethan Stanford to notice that I’m alive, not to mention stalking him like a homeless puppy.
3. Figure out a way to look boy ready while playing soccer like Kimmy does.
4. Get my hair to stop having a mind of its own; if I wanted to be a frizz ball I would exchange Dad for Cousin It.
5. Convince Mom that just because she chose the vegetarian lifestyle, it doesn’t mean I did or that I want a burger any less. Go meat!
6. Stop biting nails
7. Stop biting lip when nervous
8. Become popular
9. Get a boyfriend
10. Grow a freaking chest before I’m mistaken for a guy!!!!! (My long hair has prevented this from happening so far, but with guys growing their hair longer…who knows.)

Saturday, My bedroom, Bored

There are ten reasons I will never accomplish any of these goals:

1. Nate and Philip are sport stars while I trip over my feet merely walking. Or breathing.
2. Ethan is only two years older than me but could pass for a college student. Any Good Samaritan might mistake him for pedophile if we ever went out. Maybe. Probably.
3. As stated earlier (reference number one on Why Not list) I fall over too much. That takes a serious toll on a girl’s hair.
4. Genetically speaking, I might as well be related to Cousin It.
5. Mom would faint, die, and come back to haunt us for eternity if she heard Dad and I went for emergency McDonalds runs at least twice a week.
6. Life sucks, might as well take it out on my nails.
7. Biting your lip makes it pinker, like at natural lip stick…
8. Loserdomness is deadly.
9. Guys are afraid of catching loserdomness so they stay clear.
10. If Mom, Aunt Jeanie, and Aunt Justine are any indication, bosomsness skips every other female in my family. Cousin Missy has enough for all five of us.

Still Saturday, Still in my room, Still bored

I really need to lock my bedroom door. My parents complain about my grades, but when you live in a zoo – minus the flying poop thank god – how are you expected to concentrate? Let me explain to you how very sad my life is.
“Did you touch my equipment?” Nate asked, storming into my bedroom quite rudely if you ask me.
“No, sorry but I don’t believe in incest.” I answered never looking up from Mom’s Cosmo. No wonder she hides it away from me, it’s all about sex. It’s sad to know that my mother reads this inappropriate filth. At least I have Lindsea’s mom for a proper maternal influence.
“Whatever dweeb, just don’t touch my stuff.” he grunted.
“It’s impossible for me to be a dweeb, I’m a woman.” I said with a smirk.
Of course Nate was all “What do you mean retard?” in his loving brother way. Well, being myself and being unable to keep my big mouth shut, I explained to him – in simple terms and without any big words so he could understand – what the real meaning of dweeb is.
Sadly, my comeback backfired because now Nate and Philip think I’m a pervert. And all I did was point out to Nate that I can not possibly be a dweeb since “dweeb” is acronym for the phrase “dick with eyebrows”. Even Urban Dictionary says so! Ok, maybe that's where I originally got it from, but still, that’s not the point.

Saturday, World War III Zone, 6:00pm

Parents are useless. Not that I didn’t already know that, but now it turns out that Dad “borrowed” Nate’s soccer equipment for his the Prime Ninjas (yes, that is really their team name. It’s prime as in-the-prime-of-their-life. Yeah that’s a joke) practice on Thursday. The problem is that Dad has the memory of a pea and left it there. I would go see what color Mom’s face is, (red, blue, purple?) but I’d rather paint my almost-nonexistent-nails right now.

“How could you be so irresponsible Jonathan…?!?”
Red or Pink? Hmm, red nails are classic…
“It was an accident Janet! It’s not like I just decided to leave the bag there!”
Nah, black would look better.
“It’s an accident that will cost us. With Philip starting college in September we need to save our money! Nate is almost a junior; soon he’ll be off to college as well. God knows time flies by quickly so before we know it four years will go by and Ange will be off to college too!”
Or will black make me look too emo? Maybe I should – what the hell?

“Some of us are trying to paint our nails without hearing the elderly fight over who eats cream of wheat, and who gets cream of corn!” I screamed down the stairs at my parents.
“Ange, this doesn’t concern you, go back to your room and–.” Dad yelled, before I slammed my door cutting him off.
My family needs professional help.

One minute later
Cat once told me there was a psychology/self-help book for everything. I wonder what the title of my self-help book would be.

Three minute later
What To Do When Your Parents Are Fighting Because Your Dad Has The Memory Of A Pea That Has Been Mashed Into Soup And Your Brothers Won’t Talk To You Because They Think You’re A Pervert Since You Know The Real Meaning of “Dweeb” Even Though You Have Found Porn Sites On Their Search History Many Of Times And Have Never Commented

Four minutes later
Surprisingly they don’t have any books with that title or content. Who knew? Now what am I suppose to do now?

Thirty-three seconds later
Still don’t know what to do. Maybe I’ll just write a self-help book. There is bound to be at least one other person in the world with my problems. Maybe right this moment, out in the world, in a far-far-away in a place like China or Indiana or even Utah – though if she lives in Utah she has bigger problems than my book could help her with – there is an emotionally and mentally distressed teenage girl because there is no self-help book to aid her effort to deal with her own escaped-from-a-mental-asylum family too!

Thirty more seconds later
Crap, I smeared the polish trying to type. Well there goes my idea about writing a book. It would have taken too long anyways. Now, where the hell is the nail polish remover?

Why can I never find anything in our house? You would swear I don’t live here. I must have been switched at birth. Why couldn’t Dad be a proper father who wears a suit and type to work and fixes things around the house? Instead of a middle-aged mental patient who plays soccer and basketball with his ‘home dogs’. Yes, he really says that. Now you see how truly sad my life has become and why I will never reach any of my goals on the list.

Saturday, 6:15pm, Kitchen

War World III has ended for the time being since Dad went in search of Nate’s balls, so I ventured out of my safety pod and into the Kitchen for a snack seeing as you never know what time dinner will be served in this house. Mom can burn water so normally Dad cooks. Not that Dad can cook either. But after Mom used the microwave to reheated dumplings from the Chinese takeout place down the street – still in its tin container –, we never let her near our food again. Though, seeing Dad in his ridicules “Kiss the Cook” apron is almost worth another visit and basic fire safety lecture from the fire chief. Mom had bribed a six-year-old me to say that I was the one who didn’t know metal plus a microwave equals a fire hazard. In truth I did know and had even said so, but nobody listens to me around here.
“Why does Dad play with the Prime Ninjas? It’s so embarrassing. Why can’t he play golf and fix things like Lindsea’s dad?” I asked Mom who was eating raw carrots. I never understood why people liked them. I barely can take them cooked, never mind cold and on the verge of frozen stiff.
“Angela Lawrence Ellis, you should be proud of your father. He’s one of the best players on the team.” Mom reprimanded, but I saw a faint smile playing on the corners of her lips. I rolled my eyes. I hated being called by my full name since I got stuck with my great-grandfather can-not-be-feminized-if-my-life-depended-on-it name for a middle.
“You know I’m right. Mom, he calls Uncle Jack and the rest of the team his ‘home dogs’!” I whimpered.
“He’s trying to feel young again Angie. He’s just having a midlife crises. It’s normal for men his age.”
“You say midlife crises, I say mental breakdown.” I muttered retreating to my room before whatever disease my family has rubs off on me.

Safety Pod that is my bed chamber, 6:30pm

It just dawned on me that eighth grade is almost over and that next year I’m going to high school. Thank god. I mean, I’ve been attending Saint Boniface School (SBS) since I was three, and I swear Principal Sister Mary Charles Borromeo has it out for me. Only I would get on a nun’s bad side. But truthfully I don’t believe she has much of a good side.
It’s probably based upon the numerous times I visited her office when I was in preschool and kindergarten. Up to the age of six, most of the school faculty thought I had ADD. I was just one of those kids who couldn’t take a nap or sit still if their life depended on it. Except for one time when I was so tired that I took a nap. I woke up to find the teachers so happy that I got an unicorn sticker, which is still stuck onto the wall behind my bed. Yes, I need to redo my room badly.
But as I was saying earlier before I rudely interrupted myself to ramble on about unicorn stickers, weirdly overjoyed teachers, a much needed room redo, and hateful nuns, SBS has been my prison for most of my life. Getting my diploma on June 11th is like a death row pardon right before they flip the switch on my eclectic chair. But at least I have inmates. And not the raping type you would find in a real jail. At least I hope not.

Saturday, 7:00pm

What a healthy meal Mommy Dearest prepared for us. Romaine salad with ranch dressing on the side, served with meatless spaghetti. Yum. NOT! Since Dad was already out looking for Nate’s equipment, he picked up a pizza. Extra cheese. Some broccoli. Good news: Uncle Jack found the bag right after their practice and was holding in until Dad realized his folly. Bad news: My parents are trying to kill me by an extra cheese induced heart attack. Those flimsy pieces of broccoli aren’t fooling anyone.

Why did I eat eight slices? Now my stomach feels like I went on one of those upside down thingies they have at Six Flags. What are they called?

What are they called!

This is really going to bother me if I can’t remember.

Roller coasters!

It’s pathetic that it took me fifteen minutes before I finally had to look up what a rollercoaster is, isn’t it? But then, that’s the story of my life in the Mall of Patheticness. It could be worse; at least I only live in a house that is the Zoo of Patheticness. The rest of my life (i.e. school and friends) aren’t as sad. I’m not popular, but at least I have my own little niche in the school with the coolest people on earth. Well, in my opinion they are the coolest people in the whole world even if society refuses to reform what is considered “cool” and what is considered a “loser” to adhere to my view. But then the majority of society sucks.
Just like it is totally unfair how women make only seventy-seven cents for every dollar a man makes. Do the acts of the women suffrage mean nothing?
Oh God! I’m starting to sound like Aunt Justine!

I feel tired, but Old Mr. Sandman can’t make me go to sleep with his magical sand today. It’s Saturday, I look forward to staying up for hours on end. Watching the sunrise before going night-night. The birds chirping me a lullaby. Dear Mr. Owl joining me.
I just realized that it sounds like I live in the Hundred Acre Woods instead of Connecticut. And I sound like some sick, pervy, owl molester.
And to think at one time I was quite normal. Back in my toddler days I dreamt of being a princess who lived in a giant white and gold castle with my prince. At the time nobody told me that 1) I wasn’t from royal decent 2) We have no royal family in Connecticut to marry into and 3) That the golden “castle” of my dreams and numerous car rides was really the state house.
But those were the good old days where Teletubbies were my favorite show and I hadn’t realized that the green one is black and has a “pimp hat” as Cat puts it, the purple one is gay, the yellow one jumping on a big ball could be taken in other ways, and that the red isn’t a dude.

Sunday, 3:00am, Bed

I just woke up from a nightmare that I was being hunted to the death by Teletubbies. The Girly Tubby’s ball was being thrown at me, except now it was the size of a boulder. Gay Tubby’s pink bag was filled with bricks while Black Tubby’s hat had turned into Oddjob’s steel rimmed hat from that James Bond movie, Goldfinger. Not that I’ve actually ever watched any of the James Bond movies. I’ve really only seen the James Bond specials on Myths Busters. Whatever.
I didn’t see where Tranny Tubby was, but I have a feeling she was going to be the one to off me. It’s always the cute little ones you have to watch out for. I don’t know how I’m supposed to get to sleep now. Maybe I’ll just lay here and wait for everyone else to wake up…ZZZZZZ.


Dear Bloggie,
Sorry, sorry, sorry. I’m really horrible at keeping a blog. And a diary for the matter of fact – but that’s not the point. So it’s been almost a week since I last wrote, and I know that part of it is because I’m lazy, but truthfully I haven’t had that much time. Monday I had no camp because the Fourth of July fell on a Sunday so I went to the lake (what my family/friends call this lake that we go to every summer. It’s actually near my friend Angela’s house, but she couldn’t go because she was riding her horse or something) with my mom, my cousin Samantha and Brandon (it was his 14th birthday too. We’ve been going to school with each other since we were three so high school will defiantly bring a change there. In the picture taken of my class at our last middle school dance, he’s the kid lying on the floor in the Celtics shirt. He’s the class clown type) and their mom.

For the most part we all had a good time. Or at least I did until I got home and realized I was as red as a lobster. It hurt like hell to say the least. Tuesday it was really hot and my sunburn still really hurt, so my mom let me stay home from camp. Finally on Wednesday I went to camp and as expected it was boring. Nothing special happened until today when the Junior Leaders (that’s what we are called since were not counselors yet) got to order Chinese food for lunch. Unfortunately the Chinese place messed up and forgot half of two people’s orders – Dulian’s was one of them. Thankfully he had ordered a lot of food so he was okay.

I just remembered something that did happen this week, well actually two. One of them is just irking, nothing big. My ear hurts because it somehow got clogged with water. Annoying, but it’ll be gone within a week. The other is very serious. One of my fellow JLs (Odyssey) has been sick this week in the hospital. On Wednesday Marta (the lady who runs our group) went to go visit her. On Thursday she told us devastating news. Odyssey has been diagnosed with cancer.

Even as I write these words goose bumps cover my skin. I sill can’t believe it. No one has mentioned anything since Marta told us, but I wish someone would. I know it’s morbid, but I need some one else to say it just as a conformation. She’s only fourteen; she isn’t supposed to have cancer. Especially Odyssey who is so filled with life. I hope the chemo works. She doesn’t deserve to die. Like mine, her life is just beginning.

As the years have gone by my faith has faltered. I don’t know if there is a God. I will probably never know for sure until I die. But if there is, I hope he saves Odyssey.

P.S To lighten the mood of this blog, I’m posting the first chapter of my Confessions of an Optimistic Pessimist story. Hope you like it.

Sunday, July 4, 2010

Life Sucks…And Then You Die. Unless You Go To Hell, Then Death Suck Too.

Dear Bloggie,
So my love life is still pathetic. Even worse I’ve had two dreams this week that I was getting married. The first I was getting ready for my wedding – having been surprised that I was getting married in the first place, but just going along with it – when I woke up just as I was trying on the dress. I never saw my groom – duh, I never saw the altar – but I did see Dulian walking around and had a strong feeling he was the man I was going to marry.

The second dream I had last night. This one I actually did get married, but it was very simple and I can’t even remember it. All I know is that I got a feeling that we were married. I also can remember that we had to keep it a secret because of our age. The whole dream was weird because not only did I get married, but I was also a spy saving Dulian. After saving, we both became a super spy team. It’s actually funny if you think about, especially since I also remember that we attended a Renaissance Fair after.

I have now kissed four guys in my dream – one of them being completely made up from my imagination (and hell is my imagination good, because I really wish that guy was real) and another being an actor – and zero in real life. This is sad.

I’m starting to feel like I will never have a boyfriend. Someone must have forgotten to fill me in that this past week was Get-A-Boy-Friend-Week. Neena has gotten a boyfriend. Cat as gotten a boyfriend (I saw his Facebook picture and he is hot – in a he’s dating my friend sorta way of course. I mean, as exemplified by Dulian, the type of guy I normally like has blonde or brownish hair with blue or green eyes, basically pretty white boys. But even I must admit that that he is very good looking. She defiantly traded up from her last boyfriend, who actually turned out to be creepy with stalkish tendencies. Way to go Cat!). I’m happy for them, really. But I wish I would be the next to get one. Not that my mom would really let me date. But we could keep it secrete for a little while. Plus, I’m sure if I actually had a guy asking me out and my mom met him and everything, she would let me date. With restriction, but she would let me date.

So I was feeling blue as I started to write this all down – having basically written this whole post after the tile popped into my head – when I decided to look for some pictures to go with them. I was just looking for one that went with this post – borderline emo – when I found this funny picture.

Next to it were other funny pictures.

(The butt sex one is my favorite. It's the funniest, don't you think? )

Now, as I end my post, I’m not so blue. Thank God for funny pictures. And the internet since with out it I would have never found the funny pictures. :)

P.S. As you may have noticed, I have decided not to sign off as Carrie for a while. Carrie is…I don’t know who Carrie is. She is a part of me who loves to write about creatures of the night and magic and all its beauty. She is headstrong and knows what she wants and won’t change for anyone. I just don’t feel like her right now.

Right now I feel like Libby. Scared. Exposed. Raw. I’m not in my comfort zone. I’m worried about which road I will choose, if I haven’t already chosen one. Libby is a free spirit who doesn’t like to be caged. She doesn’t know what she wants or who she is. Half of her doesn’t want to find out, instead floating around on her clouds of dreams and fantasies. The other half wishes she knew the answers. Wishes she could – just once – know what she wants and who she is.

I know I sound crazy, but sometimes I just feel like I’m not (real name) because instead I’m other people. Who others want me to be. Who I want to be. But in the end I’m not even sure who I want to be. Oh Great, I’m starting to sound like a stereotypical teenager with all this “I don’t know who I am” crap. I really need to self actualize soon or I swear I’m locking myself in the attic until I’m twenty. Hey, on the bright side, maybe if I don’t eat all that time, when I come out I’ll be skinny enough to get a boyfriend. :)

P.P.S Happy Fourth of July!!! I’m stuck going to my little cousin’s sixth birthday party, but I hope you all have a good day in whichever way you choose/forced to spend it. :)

P.P.P.S I really need to stop adding so many damn smiley faces. :)

P.P.P.P.S. I just noticed that last month (June) I posted the most times in a month yet, 11. Obviously June was a screwed up month for me. :(

P.P.P.P.P.S. Ha! No happy face this time. But wait, that’s just because I’m back in the blues. :(

P.P.P.P.P.P.S Oh God, I’m so going to end up in the funny farm. Aren’t I?