You know what I love? I love steampunk. If I could, I'd dress in steampunk costume every day. Unfortunately, for the next approximately 60 hours I live in a small town where that sort of shenanigans is neither tolerated nor possible.
For example: There is a small antique type store downtown. In the window right now is a gorgeous black dress that is just begging me to alter it slightly (it looks like it'd be way too big) and wear is around. It's hard to describe, but it's very steampunk, and with the addition of a bit of clockwork here and there, it could be the very beginning of my steampunk wardrobe. But it's sold. I would pay large amounts of money to buy that dress, and it's sold. I nearly cried when I saw the tag that said so.
However, on Saturday I'm moving to this nation's capital, and there maybe I can find/create some pwnawesome steampunk costumes. I still need to learn how to sew well, but that will come with time.
On a side note, this week marks a few important dates, and I'm sorry that I didn't post them earlier: yesterday was the launch of A Very Charming Vlog, my latest vlogging project. www.youtube.com/averycharmingvlog. Also, tomorrow is the launch of Rosethorn, a Harry Potter fanfic-type blog that I am sharing with my friend Eoin. I will probably post the first post in the morning. www.scorpiusnrose.blogspot.com, if you're interested.
That is all for today,
DFTBA
jr
31 August 2010
16 August 2010
It smells like rain and laughter and the unexpected - Libba Bray
http://s3.amazonaws.com/data.tumblr.com/tumblr_l782c2YCEZ1qbl0ayo1_1280.jpg?AWSAccessKeyId=0RYTHV9YYQ4W5Q3HQMG2&Expires=1282102395&Signature=ndhKMfr7ISvEUsg5CgduG3vm6w4%3D
This secret bothers me. Not because the person loves John Green's books, or because they think that they are better than anyone else's. I tend to agree.
It bothers me, I guess, because it's the opposite reaction I had toward John's books. I read John's books, and they showed me how much more I can love books. Since I read Looking for Alaska, I have read and reread books at a faster rate than ever before in my life.
I guess what really bothers me most, is that reading a good book shouldn't make you afraid to read other books. Read a good book is just one step on the way to reading lots of good books, if that makes any sense. And yeah, not all books you read will be very good, and maybe you won't read another book you like as much as John's. But you should still look!
This secret bothers me. Not because the person loves John Green's books, or because they think that they are better than anyone else's. I tend to agree.
It bothers me, I guess, because it's the opposite reaction I had toward John's books. I read John's books, and they showed me how much more I can love books. Since I read Looking for Alaska, I have read and reread books at a faster rate than ever before in my life.
I guess what really bothers me most, is that reading a good book shouldn't make you afraid to read other books. Read a good book is just one step on the way to reading lots of good books, if that makes any sense. And yeah, not all books you read will be very good, and maybe you won't read another book you like as much as John's. But you should still look!
08 August 2010
Being human is an excuse for just about everything, but it also kind of sucks in a way – Frank Portman
So, I'm sitting at my desk, watching YouTube videos (because I'm about two weeks behind) (yeah, that's right, I caught up about two weeks of videos in the last three days, and when you're subscribed to the amount of very verbose people that I am, that's quite a feat). For this post to make sense, I first should tell you the layout of my bedroom.
It's a very small bedroom. When you come in the door, my bed is about two feet to the left, and then at the other end of my bed is a little drawer thing, and that's about a foot wide, and it's sandwiched in beside my desk, which is right beside the wall. Right by my desk is my window, which is open (for some reason) and it's rather breezy outside my window today. On the right side of my bedroom is my bookshelf and my closet, both of which are quite full but will be quite empty soon.
The reason why I tell you this, is because my curtain keeps getting blown into my face, and then my shoulder gets cold, because the cool breeze blows right onto it. It's rather chilly outside today (it's only 24 degrees Celsius), and I'm wearing a strapless top right now. So it's quite problematic. But instead of standing up and a) closing my window or b) switching it so it's open on the other side, I just sit here and suffer.
And this is why I tell you this story: either I'm a masochist, or I'm ridiculously lazy, and I know I'm not a masochist. I could tell you that I'm totally engrossed in my video-watching, but that'd be a lie. I am actually rather bored - I meant to hang out with my parents today, but then they went out to see my grandparents and from there are going out for dinner, and I stayed home because I'm not invited to the dinner. So, we are left with the option that I am, in fact, ridiculously lazy.
I just thought you'd all like to know that. Since you're all in my head anyway, I can blog about whatever I want, and no one can critisize me for being a boring blogger. Which is probably why no one reads this.
DFTBA
JR
It's a very small bedroom. When you come in the door, my bed is about two feet to the left, and then at the other end of my bed is a little drawer thing, and that's about a foot wide, and it's sandwiched in beside my desk, which is right beside the wall. Right by my desk is my window, which is open (for some reason) and it's rather breezy outside my window today. On the right side of my bedroom is my bookshelf and my closet, both of which are quite full but will be quite empty soon.
The reason why I tell you this, is because my curtain keeps getting blown into my face, and then my shoulder gets cold, because the cool breeze blows right onto it. It's rather chilly outside today (it's only 24 degrees Celsius), and I'm wearing a strapless top right now. So it's quite problematic. But instead of standing up and a) closing my window or b) switching it so it's open on the other side, I just sit here and suffer.
And this is why I tell you this story: either I'm a masochist, or I'm ridiculously lazy, and I know I'm not a masochist. I could tell you that I'm totally engrossed in my video-watching, but that'd be a lie. I am actually rather bored - I meant to hang out with my parents today, but then they went out to see my grandparents and from there are going out for dinner, and I stayed home because I'm not invited to the dinner. So, we are left with the option that I am, in fact, ridiculously lazy.
I just thought you'd all like to know that. Since you're all in my head anyway, I can blog about whatever I want, and no one can critisize me for being a boring blogger. Which is probably why no one reads this.
DFTBA
JR
04 August 2010
Breathing comes in pairs / except for twice / one begins and one’s goodbye – The Fray
Now I would like to rage against the world for a moment:
Until almost two years ago, I'd never really experienced death. I'd never had anyone close to me die. My Oma died just before I started high school, but that doesn't really count, because she had Altzheimer's, and wasn't really living anymore, anyway. Almost two years ago, Geoffrey died from cancer at fifteen. That was devastating, and I almost didn't get over it. I almost didn't make it through the first year, because of various crap. Geoffrey's death was the trigger, the tipping point, I guess.
In the last year, five of my classmates have died or been killed. I didn't know any of them, I don't think I'd ever talked to any of them, and I didn't even know most of their names. But it's still not fair!
My class has always been very different than any other class, even in elementary school. For the most part, we are intelligent people. Sure, there are stupid people, people who make poor decisions. But we are all people who can make a difference in the world - people who can succeed if we want to. We've mostly managed to rise above stupid drama, I think (or, I might just be really good at ignoring it). But five people in one year? And one of my good friends the year before that? How does death all of a sudden become part of life? I don't understand.
This is why I shaved my head - so that other people wouldn't have to go through the same thing that I did with Geoffrey. The most recent death, a girl named Taylor, was best friends with the girl whose locker was next to mine for our four years at high school, so I sort of knew who she was. Knowing that Sara now has to live on without her best friend breaks my heart, even if I don't know or like either of them. It's times like this that I feel like I'm not doing anything. Like shaving my head was a useless excerise. I know that a motorcycle accident is much different than cancer, but...I still feel that way.
And then I remember that the man in my church who flew out to Calgary to have surgery for cancer that had spread all over his body is home, and doing well, and I think that maybe I've helped after all. Maybe the seven thousand dollars that we raised last summer are helping Andy to keep his dad. Maybe.
DFTBA
jr
Until almost two years ago, I'd never really experienced death. I'd never had anyone close to me die. My Oma died just before I started high school, but that doesn't really count, because she had Altzheimer's, and wasn't really living anymore, anyway. Almost two years ago, Geoffrey died from cancer at fifteen. That was devastating, and I almost didn't get over it. I almost didn't make it through the first year, because of various crap. Geoffrey's death was the trigger, the tipping point, I guess.
In the last year, five of my classmates have died or been killed. I didn't know any of them, I don't think I'd ever talked to any of them, and I didn't even know most of their names. But it's still not fair!
My class has always been very different than any other class, even in elementary school. For the most part, we are intelligent people. Sure, there are stupid people, people who make poor decisions. But we are all people who can make a difference in the world - people who can succeed if we want to. We've mostly managed to rise above stupid drama, I think (or, I might just be really good at ignoring it). But five people in one year? And one of my good friends the year before that? How does death all of a sudden become part of life? I don't understand.
This is why I shaved my head - so that other people wouldn't have to go through the same thing that I did with Geoffrey. The most recent death, a girl named Taylor, was best friends with the girl whose locker was next to mine for our four years at high school, so I sort of knew who she was. Knowing that Sara now has to live on without her best friend breaks my heart, even if I don't know or like either of them. It's times like this that I feel like I'm not doing anything. Like shaving my head was a useless excerise. I know that a motorcycle accident is much different than cancer, but...I still feel that way.
And then I remember that the man in my church who flew out to Calgary to have surgery for cancer that had spread all over his body is home, and doing well, and I think that maybe I've helped after all. Maybe the seven thousand dollars that we raised last summer are helping Andy to keep his dad. Maybe.
DFTBA
jr
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