Follow The Yellow Brick Road…

Dear Bloggie,

   Yeah, I know, it’s been a while. Life has been “interesting”, as Cat calls it. I don’t see it that way, but I will NOT stop blogging, so I might as well update. Lets start with NaNoWriMo -- or the lack of it.  I know, I was so excited to start the project. I have a good idea how it’s going, I made an awesome cover, and I want to write it, but the first chapter isn’t going well. I’ve re-written the beginning of chapter one twice now (I only have 655 words by now, not including the prologue which is actually my a short story my 5th grade teacher had told me in, well, 5th grade; don’t worry, I make it clear that it’s not my story bit one that is a moral, be nice to others one that we all hear some sort of during our life) and can’t decided what to do. I want it to be perfect. My old English teacher, Mr. Marino, instilled this want to do well in me. I’m glad he did, but sometimes it gets annoying since I tend to over edit myself in my writing. I know writing needs a lot of editing, but when you’re writing your first draft you’re just supposed to just write. Like I do with my blog. But I can’t with my stories.

   On equally not-happy news, things between me and Zach will not work out any time soon. My closest friend at GHAA (we shall call her Annie-May on my blog, not her real name) really likes him. I never told him OR her of my feelings for Zach, so I don’t blame her, but of course I’m jealous and upset. Except I can’t tell her that because I’m scared how she will react. If I had told her before, she probably wouldn’t have minded, but I didn’t. She had asked if I liked anyone and i had told her know. I lied, and now I’m going to have to deal.

  Thankfully I do have other parts to my life. For example, on Monday we had our auditions. With all three rotations over (I can’t believe I’ve been in high school for ten and a half weeks now!) we chose our top two and auditioned for them. I was super nervous. I was sure I was going to fail my audition and be forced to take Visual Arts for the year. I could of course audition again in the spring for next school year, but by then I would be behind everyone. All I could imagine was failing and being so behind that no college would take me and I would end up living in the streets of New York, in the heart if Times Square, in a cardboard box begging for pennies and slowly dying from the toxic fumes of taxis/cars/buses and the sewer. I know, I’m over dramatic. But still, it seemed sorta rational at the time. Sorta.

  The point is that I sat near Zach in the beginning, but after the auditions, while people were finishing up and we were all just sitting around, Zach and Annie-May were talking and I didn’t really feel like joining the conversation. So instead I hung out with my dear friend Marty. He showed me some more of his animations and we talked about them and listened to this music until we were all told to go to out advisory groups. Marty is really good at animations. He was explaining some of it for me, and God, it’s a long and complicated process. You can see his work here. My favorites are the Dumpster Baby and the Playground one. Hope you check them out. They’re really funny. Or at least I think so.

Too bad he’s not only a visual artist, but also a half-day student so I won’t see him much anymore. We’re in two completely different buildings, even after the move in January (when our new school building will complete, making it possible for all morning students, grades 9-12, to be under one roof, and providing housing for the Creative Writing, Inter Arts, and Musical Theater departments). Still, at least I have Sierra. Remember how I mentioned her a while ago, on my lonely post? At the time she wanted to be a visual artist, but after doing a rotation through creative writing she decide she loved it and liked how she got the feeling of being a family in this department.

  As you can tell, I got into Creative Writing! I’m officially a creative writer! I still can’t believe it, but yeah, it’s true. I’m really excited. I’m trying to get into this Shakespeare class Sierra is taking. It requires a lot of reading and right now she’s the only freshman in it (i.e. it’s difficult), but it sounds interesting so I’m up for the challenge. as for now, It’s a minute to 1am and I have no school tomorrow because of veterans day. Until next time, keep following that yellow brick road and all your dreams will come true. 

~ XOXO,
       Libby

P.S. Yes, I know. I should become a greeting card writer for Hallmarks.

P.P.S. Actually, Hallmarks in one of my top five favorites stores (not sure which spot in my top five,  I just know that Borders, Torrid, and Temptations -- a hair accessory and jewelry store they have in the mall near my house -- beats it for sure) so I wouldn’t mind writing greeting cards for while. As long as that isn’t my only job in the writing world.

P.P.P.S I’m going to post the beginning of chapter one for your opinion. Am I on the right track or not? If you picked up a book in a store that began like this, would you read it? Criticism much needed, please don’t sugar coat please, that gets me nowhere. Thanks. :)

Chapter One

  “Adèle Baudelaire.” The woman behind the table smiled, searching for me on her list. She handed me a name tag, my name written in large but neat print with sharpie. A nine stood in its upper left corner.

    “The number is your group; they will be called together shortly. Find a seat and get comfortable for now. Welcome to the Academy!”

    “Thanks.” I smiled back. She seemed genuinely happy to see me. I turned away as another girl took my place. Her hair was three different shades at least, only one of them being a natural hair color. Addie, we’re definitely not in Catholic school anymore. 

    I searched the room of faces, looking for one person who wasn’t preoccupied in a conversation. It seemed that I was the only freshman at GHAA (what the school website used to refer to this school, George Harte Academy of the Arts; it was named after its first sponsor) who had come here alone, all their friends attending other schools. For the first time since I had received my acceptance letter, I was doubling thinking my choice.

    It’s too late now, I reminded myself. I turned down Northeast Catholic months ago and public school wasn’t an option. Sink or swim, I was here for the year. I just hoped it was the later.

    I found a seat towards the back out the auditorium. A girl a couple seats down let out a loud laugh. I cringed, wishing I had someone to laugh with. I don’t know how long I spaced out, but when I came back to attention a tall brunette was standing on the stage where I had just checked in. Like the other, she had a big smile on her face. Her hair was tied into two braids despite the fact that she appeared to be around my mother’s age. Still, her bright turquoise top and flower printed skirt made her seem younger.

    “Good morning! Can I have your attention, please?” The girls to my left continued laughing. It seemed that I was the only one paying attention.

    “OK everyone, I know you’re all excited, but can you please settle down so we may begin?” The talking continued.

    A woman in a tan dress ran on stage, kitten heels clicking. Unlike every other adult I had seen, she looked as if she meant business. She took the microphone out of the other woman’s hand and yelled, “SETTLE DOWN NOW! IF YOU’RE A FRESHMAN, THEN TURN YOUR ATTENTION HERE. IF YOU’RE NOT A FRESHMAN, THEN YOU DO NOT BELONG HERE!”

    The room went silent.

    “Thank you Jen.” Happy Woman took the microphone back. “Now, I’m Jillian Oliver but you can call me Jill. I’m the head of the musical theater department and as well as the coordinator for freshman arts classes. I would like to welcome you to the Academy. We are very happy to have you here. I know your all excited to begin so I’ll make this quick. Can the teachers--”

    “Freshman!” A male screamed from the door way. He had to be around sixteen at least. His light brown hair almost touched his shoulders in a hairstyle that could only be a cross between a skater and Justin Bieber. His clothes, like his hair, was a mash-up of two styles – wannabe white gangster and skater; typical teen male fashion. He just strolled in as if he owned the place, eyeing the crowed in search for his prize horse. When his gaze reached me end of the auditorium I saw it falter for a second.

Yes, I Caught It From Cat

Dear Bloggie,

Me: Hello. I’m (insert real name) and I’ve become obsessed with Criminal Minds

CMA (Criminal Minds Anonymous): Hi (insert real name).

For those who have not gotten the point yet, here it is in simple terms: I love Criminal Minds. It’s really and awesome show. I love crime shows. Period. But the fact that Criminal Minds, unlike other shows (i.e. CSI -- Miami, New York, and normal –, Numbers, NCIS, ect.), actually gets into the criminals’ minds, really makes it interesting.

Right now it’s late (as always), but what happened is that I was watching Chelsea Lately when I decided to start playing around with my Photoshop. I only have 14 more days with it before my free trial runs out, so I’m trying to get the most out of it. If I had, like, $60, I would totally buy it for real. Sadly I don’t. So anyways, I was playing around with it when I came across a photo of Cat and me that my aunt had taken at graduation. I can’t upload it because of the type of folder it is, so it’s just sitting in my photo bin. I was looking at the picture when I got an idea. As always, my idea was nuts -- but I like it. Remember, I caught my craziness for Criminal Minds from Cat. What you are about to see is NOT my fault. So without further ado, this is what i came up with:

(When they get married, they can use this for their wedding invitation!)

But of course, this lovely photo would not be complete without the one thing all wedding should have (though most leave this out for some strange reason…):

(Beard Heaven)

Yep, the traditional wedding beard(s). Spencer is sporting a crazy-hobo beard, complete with a beard in it (that’s what the red thing in the bird is). While on the other hand, Cat went for a short and sophisticated 70’s porn star stache. Nothing says love like porn and hobos.

So now that I have reviled what goes through my mind, I’m heading off to bed. I can sleep assured that the world is a better place with a Cat + Spencer + Wedding + Beard + Porn + Hobo Photo. Because as you all know, Cat + Spencer + Wedding + Beard + Porn + Hobo = World Peace. See you later alligator!

~XOXO,

Libby

P.S. All you need in life is faith, trust, and pixie dust!

P.P.S By faith I don’t mean in God or whatever your religion is. I mean you have to have faith in yourself.

I’m A Bigger Shame to All Feminist than Taylor Swift

Dear Bloggie,
I am a shame to all feminists out there. I really am. I thought I was a good feminist. I believe in equal rights and pay for women. I am Pro-Choice (even though personally I could never have an abortion) because I believe a woman should have control of her body and be able to make the life changing decision to be or not to be a mother. I even read articles and stuff like that so my knowledge on feminism can be greater! Except for my love of Taylor Swift music, dream of being or feeling like (the later being more rational thinking) a princess, and having no problem taking my husbands name someday when I get married (I don’t really like my last name or I wouldn’t change it when I get married) I thought I was a pretty damn strong feminist. Well, for a fourteen year old feminist.

That all changed today when I made the greatest fool of myself. At least I was alone when I did. What happened was I was logging onto my email about ten or so minutes ago when I noticed it said I got a friend request on Facebook. Guess who friended me? I’ll give you a hint; I was supposed to tell you about him today anyways. Yep, my new crush (Dulian Progonati) friend requested me. Of course I almost jumped for joy, then tabbed the page and went on Facebook in 1.5 seconds.

The only thing was I had heard he had a girlfriend, but that was back in September. At the age of thirteen (he’s a year younger than me) most people aren’t in relationships that long, but I had to check. So I went on his page and checked his info. The problem is that I have my language set to Pirate English, which is funny, but hard to understand. So being a overly romantic twit I am, I changed my language to normal English (actually it I changed it to English UK, but it’s still the same so I don’t know why they give you the option between English US and English UK) and went back to his profile so I can see if he has a girlfriend. This is what I saw (I took out his siblings and birthday part for his privacy):

About me
Basic info Gender: Male

Birthday:
Siblings:

Relationship Status: Single
Interested in: Women

Looking for: Friendship
Dating
A relationship

Religious views: Albanianism

As you can imagine I was relieved, but at the same time I felt so stupid. I totally had a freak-out (a happy freak-out but that’s not the point) because I guy I’m crushing on friend requested me. It’s not like he asked me to marry him or something, he just simply asked to be Facebook friends! And now I feel like a stupid girly girl. I mean, I’ve always been girly, but I swore to myself I would never again act like a moron because I like a guy after I got over Brennan Graham, the guy who I crushed on from third to sixth grade. Though he had made it extremely clear he didn’t like me and had actually treated me kinda bad, I only got over him after he graduated from eighth grade (he was two years older than me) and I never really saw him again.
I only admitted this to Serena and maybe to my guy friend Corey (we had been three way talking on the phone a lot in the beginning of 7th grade, one of those times we revealed secrets to each other. I don’t remember it was then that I revealed this secret) that I kept on liking Brennan even after he was paid by two girls in my class (I forgave them pretty quickly, and decided never to bring up that subject around them again for the safety and mentality of all involved) to ask me to dance. I thankfully had turned him down because I didn’t have the nerve to dance with him. When I later found out he was paid, I was furious. But what can I say, he’s hot and I fell for him again. This time secretly.

So you can see how my experiences with guys in that past have caused me to be more rational. I can like a guy, but the second I start acting like a love sick moron it’s just sad. I’ve obsessed all this week over the fact that he says hi to me everyday at camp (he works there with me as a junior leader) but actually freaking-out just because he friend requested me? That’s sad. Especially since he friend requested my cousin Brandon who also works with us. I doubt that means he likes him! I’m living in the mall of patheticness, I know.
~XOXO
Libby

P.S. The picture I included is of Dulian, but then you probably already guessed that.

Hi, I’m Libby Shaw

Dear Bloggie,
Sorry, it’s been a while but I started work this week at Camp Courant and I have been busy. Well, busy sleeping that is. Almost everyday when I came home this week I took a nap until dinner. Hey, I deserve it; I’m a really hard worker at camp. It’s funny, if any of my past teachers saw it they would have though I was switched or fell or wasn’t feeling well since I’m like the opposite at home and school.

Now, the point of this post…actually there isn’t any real point; I just wanted to share with you that I have a new penname. Well, not a new one, just a second one. My nom de plume (penname in French) right now it Carrie-Ann Crow. Yeah, Carrie isn’t my real name. My real name is…well that doesn’t matter. :)

What does matter is that I’ve come up with a new pseudonym: Libby Shaw. Yep, that’s it. What happened was that Carrie-Ann Crow sounds mysterious and dark – something that you would expect a supernatural writer of being called. But right now I have writers block on Incandescent so I’m working on COAOP (Confessions of an Optimistic Pessimist) which is not a supernatural book. So I decided to make another pen name. I like Libby so I looked up a last name and decided Libby Shaw sounded nice together.
Ang

This is going to be a quick post so I’m just going to add that my friend Cat is obsessed with Spencer Reid, a character from the show Criminal Minds.

Here’s a picture of him looking all scary and mysterious

She’s going to get “married” to him wearing a royal blue dress while he wears a powder blue tux. I asked to be the Best Woman so I get to wear a magenta tux with a black undershirt, top hat, and cane. Our friend Ange is going to be the Maid of Honor and wear pink. I know, my friends and I are crazy, but I wouldn’t want it any other way.
~XOXO,
Carrie & Libby

P.S. I have a new crush…but I’ll talk about that more on my next post

Crazy Driving Grandpas, Dream Homes, & an Obsession with Meg Cabot

Dear Bloggie,
As promised I’m back to writing properly and normal like – well as normal as ever. So today is Father's Day as you all know. I hope you guys all celebrated and treated your dads really well. Since my life is a little empty in the father front, I celebrated it with my grandfather. My grandfather has always stood as a father figure in my life, even if maybe not the best of them. To say the least he’s a real character. I swear he’s going to get us in trouble one day with his driving skills. He’s one of those people who are a lousy driver but still likes to curse people out. Normally he curses people out in Portuguese, but even then many of the words (like son of a bitch, bastard, ect.) sound pretty much like they do in English. Normally when he does this I laugh, but sink into my seat just incase.

Still, despite his antics, I love my grandfather and I know he loves me. Mom still tells me how I’m the reason her and my grandfather started talking again. When my mom found out she was pregnant with me and told my grandparents, my grandfather was furious. He’s kinda old fashioned so, even though she was 32 and it’s not like she got pregnant young or anything, he saw her as disgracing to the family when she had me out of wedlock. That anger and disgrace lasted until he held me.

After my mom had me she caught and infection – she had a C section and unfortunately the doctors messed up a bit – so a nurse would come to the house to check her out or something. One day they needed my grandmother’s help with something so my grandmother went into the living room and had my grandfather hold me. Up until then he was still in anger/disgrace so he hadn’t paid to much attention to me, but as soon as he held me the disgrace melted away. I was a cute baby. Don’t know what happened.

I still remember watching cartoons with him when I was little – the old ones like Looney Tunes, not the sucking ones they have today. That and I used to help him out in the garden and sit on his lap. He might not show that much feeling – many Portuguese men don’t, they act like compassion is a disease, that’s why I’m never marrying a Portuguese guy, most become grouchy with age – but I know he cares. He just shows it in his own way, yelling is his favorite. I still remember when he yelled at my mom for not wearing a coat. She’s a grown woman but still he acted all father like. Maybe he should have done it with less yelling, but it’s a family thing, were loud and fantastic yellers.

I also have a confession to make; I’m obsessed with Meg Cabot. She’s like the awesomest writer ever. From all the writers who I dream of being in their place one day, Meg Cabot is on the top of my list. She’s really understands teenagers. I can barely even describe how much I admire her! I love reading blogs, so of course I keep up with her blog. She’s actually part of the reason I started my own blog.

Last but not least: I found my dream house. So yesterday I convinced my mom to drive around Old Wethersfield, a part of Connecticut that is made up of almost entirely old houses ranging from before colonial times to early 1900’s, some more modern houses mixed in here in there, but not many. I just love this area so much. Towards the end of the area is the cove, but now that I think about it I mentioned this all before since it’s basically the backdrop for my story Incandescent. Well we were driving around when I saw this old house. I remembered it from last time, but I hadn’t gotten a close enough look. This time I got a picture.

Right now it’s a bed and breakfast, but hopefully by the time I’m married and starting to have children, it will be up for sale and I will be able to raise a family in it. I just love the house. I already can imagine turning the side house (most likely the maid’s quarters or a garage back in the day) into my writing office. Since I want to have many kids (5 to 8) I’m probably going to need my own quiet area to write in. I can just picture my life in this house and let me tell you, I like what I see... :)

Hopefully God will answer my desperate and untiring prayers and let this house be for sale when I start having kids and moving out of New York and back to Connecticut to raise them (as my dream life would go).
~ XOXO,
Carrie