Poop. I changed my layout and realized that the font I used previously does not match the one I use currently. Duh, I know. But simple truths are often the ones that hit you right underneath the eye and leave a mark for everyone to see.
As you can see, I have re-amped my blog and it has risen to new dimensions.
And, yes, I chose this layout for the swirly thing at the top of each post.
Mondays are strange things. I don't really know what to make of them.
Today, it is a peaceful thing.
Summer Mondays are the most pleasant, I think.
When the chill breeze brushes against the curtains and the birds twitter outside, and there is no shouting or pounding footsteps to distress any sensitive semi-adult ear buds.
I will make you a present if your Monday is not pleasant and cut my post off here.
*snip!*
6.15.2009
6.14.2009
All the Good Guys Are Either Gay, Taken, or Ninety Years Old and Married.
Literary dilemmas, while not as harrowing as nautical dilemmas, are still full of scariness.
I mean, there's no compass for these kinds of things. No map telling you where you are and where you need to be. And CERTAINLY no MapQuest connecting how to get there in as little time as possible.
What literary dilemma could I possibly be in, you ask?
The kind where you have many topics, but not as many topics as you'd like. The kind where the topic you'd LOVE to write on (and are already writing mentally) is not on the suggested-topic list.
The Character Sketch kind.
I have three different people I could write on. HOLY HARD DRIVE, NEVER MIND. I just had inspiration.
Since I can't post pictures without screwing up the HTML, I will post the icon that I was reminded of when inspiration hit and also the picture that prompted this post's title.
Arividerci!
I mean, there's no compass for these kinds of things. No map telling you where you are and where you need to be. And CERTAINLY no MapQuest connecting how to get there in as little time as possible.
What literary dilemma could I possibly be in, you ask?
The kind where you have many topics, but not as many topics as you'd like. The kind where the topic you'd LOVE to write on (and are already writing mentally) is not on the suggested-topic list.
The Character Sketch kind.
I have three different people I could write on. HOLY HARD DRIVE, NEVER MIND. I just had inspiration.
Since I can't post pictures without screwing up the HTML, I will post the icon that I was reminded of when inspiration hit and also the picture that prompted this post's title.
Arividerci!
6.10.2009
Rumination
Dear The Fish,
I deny that name you called me unless we are talking in person and not over the web. :P (Have to keep my interweb identity sacred, you know.) Generally my obsessions do result in good things, but I'm glad you're sitting there giggling like a fool. Foolish giggling tends to be a release. :D
I talked to my parents about the 30th, but I am banned from having sleepovers (AND IT'S NOT EVEN MY FAULT AND I AM this close TO CURSING) because my sister is banned from going to sleepovers.
Ah, the intricacies of the parental mind.
I'm working on them, though. Being the oldest has its advantages, sometimes.
Squinting at the Computer,
Mara de la Mugre
I've been reading Hemingway's Islands in the Stream, and am really enjoying it. I didn't expect to, being indoctrinated with A Beka philosophy, but I am really, really enjoying it. It is very fresh and real and vivid.
Also, I think I'm saying my name wrong in Spanish. Pretty sure it's supposed to be Mara del Mugre.
P.S. I finished Faking It. And even with all the risque references, I loved it. :)
Just what the doctor ordered for a disillusioned, discombobulated adolescent.
May I share with you my new favourite radio station? Radio1045.
There I discovered Death Cab for Cutie's "Grapevine Fires," the lyrics I fell in love with.
Blue October's "Say It," the emotion I fell in love with.
Airborne Toxic Event's "Wishing Well," the voice I fell in love with.
Also I want to tell you that I am good.
No, that was a lie. I am alright.
I had a dream last night. A lot of dreams. Number Two was my favourite. Maybe I will tell you about it sometime.
Fart. I have a poem about procrastination (I planned to write about it in a few sentences), but then when I went to dig it up out of Documents, I remembered that I'm borrowing my brother's account right now because I am feeling lazy as all-get-out and didn't feel like logging out, logging in, waiting for the load, restarting a few times, etc. etc.
So here I am.
This is ridiculous. I've been writing this blog since the beginning of 2009.
(Sidetrack: Padma Lakshmi sounds snobbish when you're not looking at her face when she talks.) (From Top Chef.)
I've been writing this blog since the beginning of 2009. It is going nowhere. Might as well be my journal-away-from-my-journal.
Would you like to be spun dizzyingly away from the topic?
Then let us talk about ketchup. Personally, I like spelling it with a k better, because it reminds me of catfish and all things Cajun the other way. Which isn't a bad thing, thinking about it. After all, Band of Brother's Eugene Roe (a.k.a. Shawn Taylor) is Cajun.
OH MY GOODNESS ITALIAN IS AMAZING. I love it and wish I spoke it. Also I love and wish I spoke French. AND HOW COOL WOULD IT BE if I knew the Phantom of the Opera? How AWESOME would it be if there WAS a Phantom of the Opera?? I would die.
Then I would promptly buy a one-way ticket to France.
I have a fine kettle of fish-out-the-water frying on the back burner. Since there's no smoke without fire (and since no one uses a little when a lot will do), I'll douse any stray embers with the baby's bathwater, which is impossible to make a horse drink once you lead him to it. The horse in question is a gift horse that was looked in the mouth and subsequently bit the hand that fed him. The bird in that hand flew past the two in the bush and off the handle, which is just another reason we're all going to hell in a handbasket.
Oh, France. Home of all things French (read: tasty) and fashion.
I've been wearing green so much lately that I really, REALLY don't want to wear green tonight for Youth Group.
Good night.
I am going to change into green for Youth Group. :P
I deny that name you called me unless we are talking in person and not over the web. :P (Have to keep my interweb identity sacred, you know.) Generally my obsessions do result in good things, but I'm glad you're sitting there giggling like a fool. Foolish giggling tends to be a release. :D
I talked to my parents about the 30th, but I am banned from having sleepovers (AND IT'S NOT EVEN MY FAULT AND I AM this close TO CURSING) because my sister is banned from going to sleepovers.
Ah, the intricacies of the parental mind.
I'm working on them, though. Being the oldest has its advantages, sometimes.
Squinting at the Computer,
Mara de la Mugre
I've been reading Hemingway's Islands in the Stream, and am really enjoying it. I didn't expect to, being indoctrinated with A Beka philosophy, but I am really, really enjoying it. It is very fresh and real and vivid.
Also, I think I'm saying my name wrong in Spanish. Pretty sure it's supposed to be Mara del Mugre.
P.S. I finished Faking It. And even with all the risque references, I loved it. :)
Just what the doctor ordered for a disillusioned, discombobulated adolescent.
May I share with you my new favourite radio station? Radio1045.
There I discovered Death Cab for Cutie's "Grapevine Fires," the lyrics I fell in love with.
Blue October's "Say It," the emotion I fell in love with.
Airborne Toxic Event's "Wishing Well," the voice I fell in love with.
Also I want to tell you that I am good.
No, that was a lie. I am alright.
I had a dream last night. A lot of dreams. Number Two was my favourite. Maybe I will tell you about it sometime.
Fart. I have a poem about procrastination (I planned to write about it in a few sentences), but then when I went to dig it up out of Documents, I remembered that I'm borrowing my brother's account right now because I am feeling lazy as all-get-out and didn't feel like logging out, logging in, waiting for the load, restarting a few times, etc. etc.
So here I am.
This is ridiculous. I've been writing this blog since the beginning of 2009.
(Sidetrack: Padma Lakshmi sounds snobbish when you're not looking at her face when she talks.) (From Top Chef.)
I've been writing this blog since the beginning of 2009. It is going nowhere. Might as well be my journal-away-from-my-journal.
Would you like to be spun dizzyingly away from the topic?
Then let us talk about ketchup. Personally, I like spelling it with a k better, because it reminds me of catfish and all things Cajun the other way. Which isn't a bad thing, thinking about it. After all, Band of Brother's Eugene Roe (a.k.a. Shawn Taylor) is Cajun.
OH MY GOODNESS ITALIAN IS AMAZING. I love it and wish I spoke it. Also I love and wish I spoke French. AND HOW COOL WOULD IT BE if I knew the Phantom of the Opera? How AWESOME would it be if there WAS a Phantom of the Opera?? I would die.
Then I would promptly buy a one-way ticket to France.
I have a fine kettle of fish-out-the-water frying on the back burner. Since there's no smoke without fire (and since no one uses a little when a lot will do), I'll douse any stray embers with the baby's bathwater, which is impossible to make a horse drink once you lead him to it. The horse in question is a gift horse that was looked in the mouth and subsequently bit the hand that fed him. The bird in that hand flew past the two in the bush and off the handle, which is just another reason we're all going to hell in a handbasket.
Oh, France. Home of all things French (read: tasty) and fashion.
I've been wearing green so much lately that I really, REALLY don't want to wear green tonight for Youth Group.
Good night.
I am going to change into green for Youth Group. :P
6.07.2009
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