Songs to remember for later

Matt and Kim- Daylight
Anna Sun- Walk the Moon
Interpol- Leif Erikson (I already have this one)

Character Profile for Supposed Novel

Writing Character Profiles - Questionnaire 1 (Adult Characters)

1. Name: Magdiel but called Maggie by those who surround her
2. Age: Not documented
3. General physical description: Olive skin complexion, beachy sun kissed but brown hair that harmonizes with skin tone, big piercing green eyes, heart shaped face, average height for a girl about 5'4", wears short print sundresses with cowboy boots, frail appearance
4. Hometown: In this particular life Valentine, Nebraska
5. Type of home/ neighborhood: Rural, very agricultural community, very dusty, hilly 
6. Relationship status: No established relationship status nor would there be to keep a sense of enigma about the story, boyfriend/girlfriend makes the story a little to definite.
7. Current family: an ill father, cancerous 
8. Family background (parents, previous marriages, etc.): No real family background
9. Friends: No close friends although well liked by every one she meets. She keeps her distance because of her occupational hazards
10. Other close relationships: The love of her life 
11. Relationship with men: She has no relationship with men, she doesn't see them as normal girls see them.  She's not human and doesn't possess a lot of emotions that humans have.  She doesn't experience love the way humans do.
12. Relationship with women: She's friendly to them and empathetic but does not relate to human women.
13. Job: She works at the local diner (the only diner) in Valentine.
14. Dress style: Relatively plain Jane clothing when on the job, conservative but has an appeal.  When working on the farm at her dad's she's usually in a printed dress with her dusty, worn cowboy boots.
15. Religion: Religion doesn't apply to her.
16. Attitude to religion: It is a comfort for humans.  She finds it interesting and almost humorous that so many different nations and cultures have the same basic idea.
17. Favorite pastimes: She has a knack for music and any instrument she picks up but while living her life in Valentine, Nebraska she usually plays the banjo. 
18. Hobbies: Music, helping her father around the farm, and working.
19. Favorite sports: She can horseback ride but doesn't have any interest in doing it for sport.  Riding her father's horse was more of a convenience when working the farm.
20. Favorite foods: Usually found eating whatever she can cook up from she and her father's garden.  It is usually something mundane, no real surprise to each meal but her father shows he appreciates the effort.
21. Strongest positive personality trait: Strong will.
22. Strongest negative personality trait: Stubborn.
23. Sense of humor: She has one but only reveals it around the people who are closest to her.  It allows her to let go of the burden she holds and the trouble she's seen and will see.
24. Temper: She has a strong and high temper when someone whom she loves is threatened.
25. Consideration for others: Much.
26. How other people see him/her: Mysterious and beautiful, out of touch with what should matter to a nineteen year old girl.
27. Opinion of him/herself: She knows she has good intentions but isn't sure how to channel them the right way. She feels she is a danger to those around her because of who she is. 
28. Other traits, especially those to be brought out in story: She's basically an angel.  I'm not sure how to present that in the story, but she's ranked in the Supreme Ruler's army. She's someone to be fought over. She's fighting an uphill battle to prevent the man she loves from perishing.
29. Ambitions: Save her father. Save the only love she's ever had and will know.
30. Philosophy of life: Live as if you were human.
31. Most important thing to know about this character: She's conflicted between doing what is right or what will save (I don't have his name yet)
32. Will readers like or dislike this character, and why? They will strongly dislike and like her at different moments, but they will root for her throughout the story.

Writing Character Profiles - Additional Questions

1. If your character has a job, is he or she good at it? Does he or she like it? She has a job at the local diner called Cosmo's.  She's seemingly good at her job but not overly enthusiastic about it. She let's a lot roll off her back because she is not human.  
2. What are your character's bad habits? Keeps letting her heart take her to places she shouldn't go. She feels that she's at fault for what her heart feels and she is responsible for guy x's (that's what I'll call him until I have a name) death (constant, and repetitive through out their other lives)
3. If you asked about his or her greatest dream, what would your character tell you? To be with guy x without inhibition.  To live as a human and possess the emotions they have. To be able to not let things roll of her back like most nineteen year old girls do.  To worry about their worries and town dances.
4. What's a secret dream that he or she wouldn't tell you about? She want's to give in and not fight for this anymore.
5. What kind of person does your character wish he or she could be? What is stopping him or her? The fact that she's an angel of sorts and cannot become human unless she accepts an offer from the supposed Devil which she will in the end.  God will not make her human Himself.  The Devil can because he indulges in what makes humans human, their sin.
6. What is your character afraid of? What keeps him or her up at night? She's afraid of losing guy x again.  She make it a point to avoid meeting him in Valentine.  She doesn't want to have to see him die again.
7. What does your character think is his or her worst quality? Her weakness for guy x. If she did not possess this tiny piece of humanity she would be a perfect angel.  Every angel possesses at the very least one human quality and she just happens to possess the emotion of love.
8. What do other people think your character's worst quality is? For the evil her worst quality is her small bit of humanity.  For other people it's how disconnected she is.  Her concerns are not a nineteen year old girls concerns.
9. What is a talent your character thinks he or she has but is very wrong about? Shutting people out.
10. What did his or her childhood home look like? Very modest.  It is a very country home small and old fashioned.  The outside has a lot of land.
11. Who was his or her first love? guy x
12. What's the most terrible thing that ever happened to him/her? Seeing the man she loves die over and over.
13. What was his/her dream growing up? Did he/she achieve this dream? If so, in what ways was it not what the character expected? If your character never achieved the dream, why not? Her dream is to be human.  She eventually becomes human but not in the best circumstances.  The Devil makes her human so he can finally claim her.
14. In what situation would your character become violent? There are instances where she has to fight for guy x and he'll be compromised. She will become violent for him. She'll become violent when she is kidnapped by the Devil's evil henchmen while trying to save herself.
15. In what situation would your character act heroic? She's always a heroine.  She sacrifices her angelic qualities to prove a false love for the Devil (still searching for a name for him that makes more sense). She does this to save guy x and the world (of course the Devil feels the need to make things complicated for the rural town of Valentine and the rest of the world)

Writing Prompt #23

"What is something you are pessimistic about?"

Response:
Something that bothers me quite frequently is a situation at work.  There's a woman that I work with who has been at Job X (we'll call that my job) for about fifteen years.  She's foreign has different ideals and what not which tend to let her get away with murder.
I understand seniority.  The definition of "seniority" according to Merriam- Webster is "a privileged status attained by length of continuous service."
The last two words are what are missing 'continuous service'.  Seniority for a person is probably also defined as one who can set an example and show the newbies the right way of doing things in say, a restaurant.
This woman refuses to work.  She stands out in the dining room for up to an hour, hour and a half before she comes to the back to nothing more to do in the kitchen so she can basically just go home after tying up a few small odds and ends.  She'll do anything or drag anything out so she doesn't have to work, count tips, I heard last night she actually took an hour and a half to fold 34 boxes. It takes me fifteen minutes to fold that many boxes and that's with other factors like customers calling in an order.
Now... I can slightly understand if my boss says that is a part of seniority.  Cool you showed up here for fifteen years stood around, drank coffee and ate your salad sandwiches.  I get that you're like sixty and you're foreign and age is a big thing for Europeans.  I get that.  I can sort of see the explanation in that.  I've only been there for five years. Whatever.
What eats me is really is that she can sit there and talk bad about the boss! "He's stupid if he thinks I'm gonna do this" (enter Slovakian accent).  The actual fact that she is shooting down my boss no matter what.  Complaining about having to work.  Biting the hands that feed her. Insulting the customers calling them 'American pigs', insulting people with weight problems. Being rude to customers.  I kiss ass every damn day for tips. You may as well wipe the floor with me because I'm such a push over.  I take everyone's bullshit. Why? I have a home to take care of. And I in fact take EVERY one's horse shit!
On top of that she steals tables and forces her way into money so she can afford expensive Cancun vacas and a nice house and to drive all the fuck way from Avon to Job X four days a week. I'm SCRAMBLING for gas money and you're pulling this shit?
The worst absolute part of this nonsense is she's REWARDED by the hand she bites! REWARDED for insulting the bosses. REWARDED for stealing tables! Who the fuck cares about the other servers? The people who do what they're asked ALL THE TIME. Not only do we do the jobs you ask of us, but we do them to the best of our abilities with a fucking cheesy ass smile on our faces. In ten years will I be rewarded for bitching about everything I am told to do? Will I be rewarded for treating everyone like dirt and insulting people's weight problems? Food for thought.

Writing Prompt #22

"Write about your first toy"

Response:
My first toy was a doll I called "Dolly".  It was this really soft baby doll with embroidered brown eyes and one or two hairs made of yarn. It had this little pink dress and I carried it every where. Somehow I lost it and I got a new one that was similar but not nearly as soft as my old one was.

Short But Long Story

It should be starting to happen soon, the moment when I start to remember what my purpose is and why I'm put on this planet again. It's late August 1982 the human part of myself is reincarnated into a girl aged nineteen years. In this happenstance a girl of nineteen years in Valentine, Nebraska, a small agricultural city located centrally in the U.S..
Before I had been a slave in Egypt, a nymph in ancient Ireland, a aristocratic socialite in Paris, a Greek immigrant in the United States, and finally, a freed American heiress, a staple in Andy Warhol's factories for years. Here I am once more alive and well arriving at the time I will meet Loec. His name sounds a bit old and dated but it translates when he is reincarnated into whatever year. Somehow his mothers always arrive at names that start with an 'l'.

Writing Prompt #21

"Write a letter to the 10 year old child you had been"

Response:

Christina (young 10 year old version of what I am now),
      First and foremost, please do not take anything I say offensively! This is for your very own good and you deserve to hear this straight from me who is you. You're going to do what you want anyway and I'll be happy if you do because I feel I turned out okay for being such a... I'll refrain from finishing that insult.
     Stop listening to the bands you are listening to! N*SYNC, Britney Spears, B*Witched, and the Backstreet Boys do not constitute real music. Try listening to Pearl Jam or something, get a head start on liking good music rather than boy bands and premature sluts who eventually go mental and shave their heads. While you are doing this, Lance Bass is in fact gay now. Your entire family was right so like Justin Timberlake instead if you'll like any of them. He's the only one who ends up musically talented and stays in the game.
     Start playing sports. Girls who play sports in middle school and high school are considered awesome, not to mention you'll have a friend base that lasts forever. Your future boyfriend Brian (who's pretty cute by the way) actually played sports and has friends he still to this day talks to not to mention 95% of them are normal human beings. Imagine that.
    Keep drawing. Don't ever stop drawing. You can do so much with that talent so stop looking in the mirror and cocking your head to the side trying to look like Britney Spears and pick up a pencil. Oh and another thing, good grades are important. I figure right about now (fourth or fifth grade) you're becoming awful at school. Get to work! Get on it and stop fuckin' around!
     Oh and always remember your mother will always be right so just listen to her! You can avoid so much horse shit if you just listen to her.
     Shine as brightly as you can while you can. Do whatever you want because nothing in this world is impossible if you try hard. I love you, you're family loves you and the people surrounding you love you. Please make it a point to dress better that N*SYNC shirt is super weird.

Love you like my luggage chump-
Your future self who wrote you in hopes of making herself athletically fit and better at visual arts

P.S. Learn a foreign language fluently... preferably Slovak, you're gonna need it when you're sixteen til nowish if not later.

Writing Prompt #20

"Write about the color of hunger"

Response:
The color of hunger is black or dark maroon. It would have to remind me of a cavernous empty stomach. Can empty be the color of hunger? What's the color of a head ache? That's what I get when I'm starving. Forget color what's the sound of hunger? Searing, aching, harsh sound that's so uncalled for!

Writing Prompt #19

"Start a story with "There was once a chance I didn't take..."

Response:
There once was a chance I didn't take when I was twenty one. I had come across an open audition for a Star Search sort of show and I decided against taking it. Why?
While walking down the filthy Cleveland street and saw the sign for Star (we'll say Shabangadaddle). I wanted to stumble in but feared that I'd become a fallen star one day drugged out and desperate for work. What kind of life is that? Not to mention I wasn't fond of California, New York is where it's at.
I feared I'd become too similar to some one like Lohan or Sheen. So I didn't take it.

I know I could've gone so far with this one but I just haven't been feeling the most recent prompts.

Writing Prompt #18

"What you'd say to an uninvited guest."


Response:
I suppose this depends on the person really. If it's some one I just don't know I try to make them feel welcome. If it's someone who I don't like I would freak a shit. If they didn't leave I'd call the cops of course. My home is my comfort zone. You do not come into my home when you're not welcome. This is my place.

Writing Prompt #17

"Create your perfect place." I'm not doing this in 400 words because again I don't have word count.

Response:
My perfect place is fictional of course. It would be controlled by my mind totally. It would be conveyed by seasons. It'd look something like Chagrin Falls or Downtown Willoughby or University Heights or Cleveland Heights for that matter. It would be a Victorian looking house. The temperature inside the house would vary from 70-75*. I'd never be too warm or too cold. The smell of my home would mimic the seasons. Fall and spring would last a little longer. Winter would only last until New Year's was over. When I started to long for fall it would come to me. When I wanted to see pal trees they would be there in the summer. My house would change from a Victorian house (from the winter and fall months) to a quaint little beach house that was situated by the sea.
I'd have my own garden so I'd be inspired to eat well everyday and the plants would always do well. Everything would always be clean and comfortable despite the dogs and cats I live with. I'd have my own workshop and what I did in the workshop would be limitless.
Any vacation I wanted would be within arm's reach.
I would just be at peace all the time. Not to mention my job (because I couldn't necessarily live without some sort of distraction) would be a full time artist. I' have my own clothing line and my own gallery. I'd be able to make my own movies in the manner I wanted and I'd be a photographer.

Writing Prompt #16

"Where do you go to escape everything"

Response:
Well some people who don't really know me but do don't know that I have a serious shopping addiction. I also have a caffeine and food addiction.
I don't have one place but I have a couple. First off I think I'd grab some food and possibly a friend like Tempest or Stacey and go shopping for a little while. I would probably go to Great Lakes Mall because they have some decent cheap stores there. Beachwood is okay but most of the stores are crazy expensive.
Anyways I'd spend my day looking for clothes that hide my jigglies and make me look uh-MAZE-eeeeeeeng. After about two hours of this I'd move on to food. I'd go somewhere like... Chic-Fil-A the absolute best fast food place ever. I'd eat a bunch of Chic-Fil-A and a milkshake because their milkshakes are orgasmic.
After my tasty meal I'd get tired of clothes shopping and go shopping for my house. Make a huge purchase on something like a couch and then I'd feel fulfilled. I'd go home take a nap for about an hour and then I'd go out for dinner or something after watching some quality Teen Mom. Then I'd get all pretty in my new clothes and go to B-Side but leave around two so I could go home and sleep well.

That right there is what I'd do if I wanted to get away from everything. I wouldn't think of bills or shit I have to do around the house or anything. Looks like shopping and food and caffeine are my addictions. They make me feel better when no one else can.

Writing Prompt #15

"Write a story about irony using a teacher and a fuse box as the key object"

Response:
Jonah Cree was a high school math teacher at Ridgemont High in Jacksonville, Florida. As he lay in his hospital bed he recalled the most recent math quiz he didn't have time to grade last Friday. He drifted in and out of conscious.
Cree was a wild sort of man. To think such a risk taker would end up as a high school math teacher in boring Jacksonville, Florida. When he was a boy he dreamed of living in the Keys diving for treasure or living off a marine biologist's income and here he was teaching. He wasn't even teaching about biology, or marine life, he was teaching about math, the most tedious of subjects.
He never married, why would he? No need for a real companion when you have adventure as your companion. Here he was in a hospital bed from a motorcycle accident. Cree swam with sharks and wrestled crocodiles in Australia, bungee jumped every month, and sky dived twice in the past year, but a motorcycle landed him in the hospital bed this time. He should have died three times already in his life time, the hospital was not an unfamiliar place to him but this time he was on life support and his life depended on machines.
The lights in the small hospital began to flicker as the weather outside went from cloudy to stormy. Panic spread throughout the staff. This spurt of bad weather had come on without warning. Everyone knows the weather forecasters are worthless. The generator was not a necessity this year and it was forgotten by the maintenance men. The steady humid weather rusted parts in the generator and now in the time the hospital needed it most it was not an option. The power died. Cree laid in the humid hospital bed slowly dying. Who knew after all the close calls a fuse box would put an end to the adventurous teacher who didn't even teach an exciting subject.

Shot at irony. Yuck.

Material Issue - Valerie Loves Me

I really didn't want to have to use the video so if you could look away from your computers and listen to the song. Still trying to figure this out

Song Prompt #1

"Valerie Loves Me" Material Issue

I'm still figuring out this whole adding song thing so you can listen to what I'm listening to and kind get the gist of what I'm writing.

Valerie Morgan was the anomaly that lived in the apartment above my parents' garage. When I was about sixteen or seventeen I'd sit by my window and await her arrival from where ever the Hell she'd go during the day. I had met her a couple times during that point in time but never conversed with her for more than five minutes at a time. I thought she was a pretty girl, woman, whatever. She had a small frame and pale skin. Along with her pale skin, she had pale blue eyes. At that point in time her hair had been a black brown color from what I could tell. She had the inclination of a ghost or spiritual entity rather than an actual everyday working person. I remember while sitting in my window dreaming about being eighteen and moving to Nashville or something and sighting her like sighting Sasquatch.
Every so often I'd venture into the yard and maintenance it for my mother who was an invalid and my father who was a drunk for it and I'd spot her in her window mirroring my actions. Once I caught her gaze and immediately felt weak. I felt like all my strength drained me she had been this little ghost tucked away in my parents' garage apartment. I think her apparition in the window pane frightened me more than captivated me at that point but as time passed that week it started to haunt me in a way that just made me curious.
That Friday evening I was bored in my bedroom while sketching pictures of chairs and other figures in my room I came across this bright idea that I'd go and introduce myself to Valerie. I felt she was a person, what harm could it be if I just let her know I wasn't some weirdo who spied on her all the time. I mean, in reality I guess I really was the weirdo who spied on her all the time but at least I could deter her from thinking I was staring at her. I could make up an excuse that I was staring at the siding of the house. The paint had been peeling and I was to sand it and touch it up the following week.
I made my way across my parents' paved driveway to where the red '65 Chevy Impala slept. I made my way into the stairwell and climbed the stairs to Valerie's apartment. Her door had been right at the tippy top of the stairs. The outside of her apartment seemed so cold and final. As I walked up the steps one by one I felt my heart sink in my ascension.
Before I could turn the tarnished brass knob the door opened. The pale frail figure stood in a tired stance in the door frame. "Where you going buster?"
Such a strange question. I was hopefully going into her apartment. "Do you think I'm weird?" I asked suddenly.
She looked intrigued. "Do you think I'm weird?" Her expressions were so precise and you could tell her thought process by the faces she made. She thought I was weird for sure. "You come all the way up here, never have a real conversation with me by the way, and ask me if I think you're strange? Even if I did why would my opinion matter to you? I'm just a tenant in your parents' garage loft not someone important like some sixteen year old brunette with brown dough eyes and big boobs." I realized her hair wasn't black or brown but grey.
"You look too young to have grey hair, how old are you?"
"You ask too many questions." But I had so many.
Seeing her up close she really was pretty but you could tell there was so much complexity behind her pale face. Her eyes seemed to match her prematurely grey hair. Completely desolate and shrouded in melancholy.
Her personality was a different story. She couldn't possibly be a depressed person because she was so disconnected with reality. Our conversation that night went from the topics of what constitutes being weird, Africa, and other travel. She seemed so worldly but her appearance didn't match up to her idiosyncrasies. She came across as someone who read a lot in her down time for she knew so much about places she hadn't ever been. I found out she was twenty five. I didn't ask about her childhood or why she was here.

Writing Prompt #14

"Most memorable move"

Response:
My most memorable move seeing as I only moved twice was probably when I moved out of my parents! I was so excited and I remember waking up at six in the morning because I wanted to get everything together.
It was so exciting because I was moving into a place with someone I love/d! It was a sunny day and I remember going up to the office and getting my keys. It was actually around this time of year (springish). I feel like spring has always had a good feeling as far as my relationship goes. I started dating Brian in the spring and we moved in together a year later. I also remember eating Chipotle that day in celebration! It was delicious of course.
Thinking about this makes me really miss my old apartment! It was teeny tiny but it was cozy! It overlooked the freeway and I never felt alone because of it! I miss all the noises of the cars and such.

ADORABLE!

Writing Prompt # 13

"Write about a weird day in your work place"

Response:
Every day is weird in my work place. We have so many different people working there that are so completely different from one another. What's really weird is that we are all kind of like a work family. Some how through all the crap we disagree on we all get along.
A weird day in our work place... I'd have to say based on the days of the week would be Mondays. Every other day I work my boss works so it's kind of difficult to be weird. He brings a seriousness to the job that we all kind of respect and inherit once he's there. His oldest son on the other hand is boss Mondays and he's kind of a big goof. Not to say we don't get anything done, because we really do get everything done if not more than we're supposed to. It's just that the seriousness isn't there and we can kind of breathe.
I don't know how to sum it all up there's just some weird ass shit said during our time there Monday nights. My most recent weird thing said is "Pillow pet is the way to the love mitten"
Let's see for Valentine's Day Michael (boss' eldest son) shaped some dough into a heart with an arrow through it and rays of like sunshine or love or something shooting out the sides of it. Well his wife probably wasn't exactly sure what to do with it so Michael brought it in and hung it from one of the air vent fan things attached to the ceiling. I felt pretty bad for Eric, our pizza cook, who probably wanted to throw the bread ornament against the wall.
Every day is a weird day at Guido's. If some one were to ask me to choose a certain day I thought was strange I wouldn't be able to come up with one because every day is weird!

Writing Prompt #12

"Write a brief but scary account with one of your old professors"

Response:
How do you compose a scary account of an old professor if you aren't afraid of your old professors?

I can tell you what and I'll probably go to Hell for this, but I definitely was afraid of this nun everyone called Sister Death back at Notre Dame. She had skin that was pasty and looked as if it were peeling off her face in a flakey sort of manner. She was pretty short and frail and had dark little beady eyes. Not to mention she was ALWAYS mean. There was never a specific experience with her that I was terrified, it was more of an all the time thing.
Now that I've said that I'm sure I'm going to Hell, but I was being pretty truthful so... hopefully that works to my advantage.

Writing Prompt #11

Okay so I didn't get to finish the two sets of words left for my writing prompt yesterday. I haven't been lately I've been in a bout of writer's block. Which is why writing prompts are good for people like me because they're pretty much meant to keep your mind going. I'm not saying that I won't be continuing writing about sets 2 and 3 I just don't think I'm going to complete them within the next day. I do have an idea for a new sort of segment of writing I guess you'd call it. I'm going to start writing about songs you listen to. I don't know if you do this, but sometimes I can listen to a song and imagine a scenario or a story behind that song.
So that'll be figured into my writing prompts every so often. I'm open for other suggestions! Leave comments and feed back! <3

Writing Prompt #11

"Below are three sets of words. Use the words in the sets to write short stories" Mind you it asked me to do it in 300 words or less and I don't exactly have a word counter or what not on this blog site so I'm not following that rule. My blog, my rules.

Set 1: paper clips, principal, lunch box, swing, girl with a pink ribbon

Set 2: biology, class card, foreign student, leaf, blood sample

Set 3: typewriter, filing cabinet, puncher, clerk, carbon paper, janitor

I hate that this is allllll office supplies. It's annoying. Since it's Valentine's Day I figure I'll write a love story for each.

"Set 1"
Math class is so boring. All we do is read about endless math equations and formulas that we'll never use. It has been eleven o'clock for an hour now. Time takes it's time in algebra. My mind keeps wondering in and out of this room. My eyes travel to the window and everything in it's picture frame. I see the swing I used to swing as a six year old boy. I'm still a boy. I still carry a lunch box and fear the principal. I'm just not a boy who dreams of going to space some day or living in the ocean in some sort of under water hovercraft.
I slightly drift back into the subject at hand. Oh, right algebraic equations that I don't necessarily care about. I'm startled! A girl with a pink ribbon literally falls into class, her books fly all over the floor. I can tell she's extremely flustered and nervous and embarrassed. I rush to her rescue and help her gather her books. We say some pleasantries and small talk before we both look up and realize immediately that the other is something special.
The class goes on as I help her find a seat somewhere close to me. Suddenly I'm engaged in something that is way more interesting than the swing set outside the class room window. Her name is Molly. Such a plain name for such a pretty girl. I know I sound like a girl right now, but I've always been more of a theater nerd. I tend to sound a little Homeric when I speak. I get bored and bend one my of paper clips into a heart. Josh, my best friend laughs a quiet laugh at me. I look at him and look at Molly. He smiles in a funny Josh sort of way, like he's poking fun at my through his teeth.
I give the love paper clip to Molly. She then smiles and blushes. I'm not a forward person or anything, but it just felt so easy to get to know her. The bell rings. Algebra finally feels like a class that I can enjoy and that goes way too fast for my liking. It's twelve o'clock already. All my peers begin to file out of the classroom to rush to their other classes. Molly and I walk out together. We look at the clock and realize time is almost up for our small five minute break between classes. We look at each other and she leans in real quick to give me a small peck on the cheek. I know this year is going to change my life.

Writing Prompt #10

"Choose an object that you feel represents you and write the reasons why you think it represents you. Chose the strongest reason and write about it" Of course I didn't write the entire prompt.

Response:
Well let's see. An object that describes me... I honestly need to think of an object before I can even think of reason why this so- called object describes me. I don't exactly want to pick something like a canvas or a book or something stupid like that because I feel like everyone would use that.
I think my object would be my record/mp3/cd player. I guess I'll call it my record player.

It loves music. That's why it plays it.
It can play different things.... like the radio... like all that other crap I listed before
It looks antique but plays new music (not saying I'm old myself... at least I don't think I look old... but my style can be kinda antique at times)

Well that's all I could list for the player. I guess I have to choose one that represents me the most. Well let's see... This really is kind of a difficult prompt for me. They'd been kind of awkward lately. I don't exactly like writing about objects that represent me. I don't want to sound too cliche.

I Love Music (Written in blank verse/iambic pentameter)
If I/ feel I/ would LIKE/ to CHANGE/ my MOOD
MuSIC/ will HELP/ me DO/ a QUICK/ change SOON

Meh that was half assed. I really got to think of this one guys! It's two and Brian's not back yet and I need to drive to Willoughby! I need to be there by three dammit! Ugh I'm going to go make myself look human. <3

Writing Prompt #9 II

I stand corrected.
I had a sense of "Oh Shit" and I feel like shit because I walked into my bathroom and the smell of cigarettes filled it. Of course Rob wouldn't dream of smoking in my bathroom but he wreaks of them. So I felt like a dipshit when I told Brian "Rob left all those beer bottles on the floor" and not two seconds later Rob walks out of the guest room and goes into the bathroom. I'm an ass hole, but in my defense I didn't see his car anywhere.

Writing Prompt #9

"Describe what you feel right now using your sense of smell"

Response:
How the Hell do I do that? I have the worst sense of smell ever! What I feel right now... I can't describe what I feel right now using my sense of smell because the only time smell triggers something is with candles (that are seasonal or trigger a memory), pefume, the smell of work, and the smell of a meal I'm about to eat. I don't smell anything that makes me feel nostalgic, hungry, or annoyed at the fact that I have to work right now so smell is out. I do have feelings though right now that I can share with you!
I feel that despite I love Katy Perry's music I'm a little tired of hearing about her and that Gaga should be in the news more. I feel that Gaga's new song isn't that fantastic and hopefully it'll grow on me.
I feel happy that Brian was able to fix the fireplace so I don't have to deal with the cold and I can cuddle up to something warm and cozy. It's nice being able to have the fireplace luxury at my disposal.
Speaking of warmth, I want to go to Florida so bad! I want to go somewhere tropical, but Southern tropical. I don't really want to go to the Bahamas or anything, but Florida would be good. There's something about going there where theres canals and all that fun shit like alligators.
I feel like the girls from the new Teen Mom aren't as fun as the old ones. The red head is a complete dumb ass, the blond girl is a free loading idiot, and Jenelle is the worst daughter in the world. The only one I appreciate is Leah. She's the only one who seems half sane. I shouldn't be such a bitch after all their the ones making money off the fact that they had children at 15 and I'm the one sitting here on my couch watching their episodes.
I'm kind of annoyed that Rob came over sat on the couch all night until 8 am and played video games. Even after Brian went to bed and then he didn't even clean up some of the beer bottles here.
I'm apathetic.... but there's a ton of shit here I don't feel like dealing with.

Writing Prompt #8

Okay so anyways I thought about my last blog... kinda boring, though it is about being with my good, dear friends who I adore.
But the one thought I couldn't get out of my head was about the Phantom! How he was so flippin' hot, in the movie he has this great style, handsome half face.... the works! He's romantic, can sing... dreamy, but the thing is he's a freak! A total whack job. He's got so many red flags! Exhibit A: He lives in a flippin' cave. I mean can't he just live in a sexy/creepy corridor in the opera house? I could live with that, but a cave? Really? Exhibit B: In the film version, he has a little set of dolls he uses to act out his evil plans. Is that not weird? Dolls. Man dolls.... WTF? Exhibit C: His mannequin that looks a little too much like Christine. A mannequin's not too bad. Back then it would be ahead of his time you know? Didn't like David Bowie fans decorate with mannequins? What about the movie The Mannequin? It'd be like the 80's. But that's beside the point and point D: He's a murderer.
But we girls love the Phantom! I too am a victim of Phantomdom. Which brings me to my point. Why is it that a guy has to be a whack job to be a die hard romantic? Well there is one exception, my friend Michael. It's ridiculous!
Why is it that the Phantom being Gerard Butler makes it okay for him to be a total freak? What the Hell???
I guess what I'm really saying is Brian isn't a freak at all. Why can't he be a romantic??!! Is it just a stupid math equation and normal + romantic= not possible?

Writing Prompt #8

Response: continued

I chose "watched 'The Phantom of the Opera' with some good friends".
Last Saturday I got to watch 'Phantom' with Stacey, Heather, and Shelby at Stacey's. It was a blast. Not to mention it was Saturday night right after work. There's something about Stacey's house where you feel safe and cozy despite what may be going on in the outside world. It's always so nice going there and just hanging out on her big comfy couches.
'Phantom' was great as always. I always get so girly and emotional when I watch it. It's probably because my 'friend' as my boss calls it is in town. It's just such a romantic film/play.
Ugghhh I'm just not feeling the writing thing right now. Last night I felt like I was gonna hurl at work. I can write more about 'Phantom' later for sure. I'm just not feeling to well as of now. Not to mention I have to finish my make up and go to work. Yuck.

Writing Prompt #8

"Write 40 things that happened to you this month and choose one to write about"

Response:

Bathed Begley
Fed the dogs
Fed the cats
Cleaned my guest room
Started reading a book
Checked the mail incessantly
Baked cookies with baking powder instead of soda
Baked brownies with butter rather than oil
Got rid of a nuisance
Started this blog

Made coffee and sifted it through a strainer
Hugged my bear cow
Watched all six seasons of Sex and the City
Kissed my boyfriend
Watched The Phantom of the Opera with some good friends (including my big sis)
Hung out with Tempest
Ate dinner at The Winking Lizard
Went to the mall
Was disappointed with the fact that Giant Eagle doesn't sell Dove Chocolate Devotion ice cream anymore
Found my Converse shoes

Worked out
Hugged Begley like the little teddy bear he is
Planned for Valentine's Day
Bought something cute for Valentine's Day
Hinted to Brian that I wanted a Valentine's Day Pillow Pet for V-day
Went to Pittsburgh
Drove to work
Got prickly at work
Cried (at the end of the night) at work
Tanned

Realized how amazing Brian is for fixing things for me
Saw Wolfman
Made a foxy key chain
Ate bagels
Got in touch with some good friends
Heard two Sugarland songs that made me want to cry for a friend
Watched Dogma
Sat next to a warm fire and blogged
Realized Vampire Weekend is an extremely good band
Challenged myself in writing and can't wait to keep doing so

I'll write about one of these things later while I'm watching Sam and Ron break up for the tenth time on the Jersey Shore.... <3

Writing Prompt #7 If that video didn't make you love him this one will

Writing Prompt #7 Little continuation for those like myself who love Billy Idol

Writing Prompt #7

"Electricity is a recent discovery. Think of twelve things you can do without electricity"

Response:
How about the twelve most underrated things to do without power.

WRITE!!! Writing is a fun time although without power you can't necessarily share it with as many people throughout the world... but it's a fun activity. Lately writing this blog consistently and I feel better... Like I've contributed something. Writing is like.... I can imagine anything.... anything in the entire world and write it down. I don't have to tell anyone about it nor do I have to have any inhibitions when I write! It's fantastic. So pretty much I can write the gayest short or long story in the world and not have to feel ashamed of what I say. I feel like writing in a journal is the only place you can truly be honest because it's you talking to yourself. I love it!

Read.... I adore reading! It's like watching a movie but it's more detailed and you can create the faces of the characters yourself in your mind. Not to mention there are so many damn books out there. There's a book for everyone.

Eat... Probably my favorite thing to do without power. I am a chronic binge eater. I love food more than my boyfriend. It's ridiculous. Brownies... Sweet Tarts... the works.

Sneak out... Rollerblading down the road in the middle of the night dodging cars.... Not like I ever did that :)

Ride a Bike...  Speaking of cliches that's definitely one but riding a bike is a lot of fun. I'd say walk somewhere but it takes way too long if you're going somewhere important. I kid you not if I didn't sweat or freeze to death while biking (this would be weather dependent of course), I'd bike to work every day! Unfortunately for me I sweat like a pig... ALL THE TIME... and I'm flippin' freeze baby so... As soon as I save a little I'd like to get a bike again... I live in an area where it could potentially be a benefit... Well it would let's be honest.

Sew! Sewing is a blast... I'm sorry I realized this is kind of a girly list but I love to sew. Embroidery can also be categorized here. You can do so much with this! If you're really good you can make your own clothes (which hopefully I'll learn to do someday).

Drinking. Now I don't drink so this one is for all you guys and girls for that matter who like to. Drinking is a legal high pretty much. Getting drunk is fun! I can even say that. But if you get too drunk and can't hold your liquor like I can you'll get a hang over. Then the next day if you don't have power of course... you won't have the Bad Girls Club on t.v. to make you feel like a non-piece of shit. Trust me those girls are outrageous!

"Gettin' Lucky in Kentucky" For the guys... need I say more?

Sleep... I think if I really think about it I could always sleep. I love sleeping! All you have to do is think of warm sheets..Oh my God... getting into bed after a long hot shower. You're all clean and comfy in your footies. It's the best.

Play with your puppies. They're like real live stuffed animals...

Sit in the sun.. the natural alternative to cancer beds.

Dream about Billy Idol... He's the perfect merge of punk and cheesy 80's music. Not to mention he's a fox. His blond tresses... rock hard body and that weird thing he does with his mouth when he sings... He's a beast... and everyone should like him because he's such a likable guy.

Writing Prompt #6

"List all the cliches you can think of. Pick one that strikes your fancy and let that be the first line of your poem" I'm not sure if I'll use it as my title or what.
So I found this website with a list of cliches because I can't just think of one off the type of my head, plus it's a little more interesting when there's a plethora of different kinds of cliches in front of me.

I'll pick one cliche from each category: aging, agreement, anger, beauty/ugly, business, children, death/finality, easy, help, hope, justice, jealousy/envy, lying, marriage, money, put down, sex, sports, time, weather. Wow, looks like my Stumble selections...

Okay so here they are according to ClicheSite.com:

Aging
"As fine as wine."
Explanation: Older the better, as in aged fine wine
Agreeing
"See eye to eye"
Explanation: to be on the same page (can I say duh)
Anger
"To tear you a new ass hole"
Explanation: Reprimand harshly
Beauty/Ugly
"Beauty is only skin deep"
Explanation: When we're old and nasty looking are personalities are all that matters.
Business
"A house divided against itself cannot stand"
Explanation: Any sort of group will fail if it cannot resolve its problems
Children
"Before you were a gleam in your father's eye"
Explanation: A time when your mother and father were together but you weren't even thought of
Death/Finality
"Like a frog in a frying pan"
Explanation: Not sure how this came about but supposedly if you cook a frog in a cool frying pan and slowly turn up the heat it will not sense it and die. I don't like it! I guess it means that something detrimental is going to happen until it's too late. Wooowwww pretty damn similar to something as of recent. Ha ha heard something else for this category: "Life's too short to dance with fat chicks"
Easy
"Keep it simple stupid"
Explanation: Do not complicate something ?
Help
They didn't have one for this. Weird... why have a category then?
Hope
"Shooting for the moon"
Explanation: Aim high
Justice
"What's good for the goose is good for the gander"
Explanation: In my opinion this is an observation of double standards. Like in the work place for example..... what's good for one type a employee is good for another type a employee if you catch that drift.
Jealousy/Envy
None for this one... again what the Hell????
Lying
"Blowing smoke up my ass"
Explanation: Deceiving with words... yeah but why blow smoke up someone's ass if you're lying?
Marriage
"Love is Blind"
Explanation: Oh yes it is.
Money
"To go Dutch"
Explanation: Pay for your own damn dinner
Nothing for Put Down  either.
Sex
"As horny as a three balled tom cat"
Explanation: Well if I had two balls let alone a third I think I'd be a horn ball too
Sports
"Dark horse"
Explanation: Not the favorite
Time
"Time heals all wounds"
Explanation: Given enough time, all disputes go away.... if you say so
Weather
"Cold as a witch's tit"
Explanation: I suppose witch tits are cold.

Now to write a poem about one of the cliches... I kinda want to write one about all. I'll just use haikus to make it go a little faster...I'm not sure any normal functioning human being wants to hear my faggy poetry.

"As Fine As Wine"
Nothing as divine
As finely aged vine red wine
Fright of age? think wine

"See Eye to Eye"
We can be happy
Try. Learn to see eye to eye
We can be happy

"To Tear You a New Asshole"
Your mom and your dad
Find out, you are in for it
Now, new place to shit

"Beauty is Only Skin Deep"
Looks fade and go away
Personality remains
Don't be an ass hole

"A House Divided Against Itself Will Not Stand"
Sorry is the bird
That can shit in its own nest
Don't poo where you rest

"Before You Were a Gleam in Your Father's Eye"
I was full of whiles
Before your dad made mom smile
Wet behind ears, dear

"Like a Frog in a Frying Pan"
Before I can see
You already betrayed me
Blind am I. Puss, you

"Keep It Simple Stupid"
Do not try so hard
To add or subtract in head
Use calculator

"Shooting For the Moon"
If I can swoon you
I would be shooting the moon
If you can love me

"What's Good For the Goose is Good For the Gander"
If you can just talk
Not do the job you are told
Why cannot I talk?

"Blowing Smoke Up My Ass"
I fear the day when you
Lose my trust by blowing smoke
Right up my elohssa

"Love is Blind"
True statement true show
Why can't love be something faux
No love without pain

"To Go Dutch"
Best way for a date
For the first one anyway
Don't pay for my lunch!

"As Horny As a Three-Balled Tom Cat"
If I had two balls
I would be horny enough!
Three? Ridiculous

"Dark Horse"
Call me a strange one
From the strange world of other
But I am still me

"Time Heals All Wounds"
Not the ones you sewed
You the complete, straight ass hole
You, streak of losing

"Cold As A Witch's Tit"
You are pathetic
Your cooch as cold as witch tit
You are a loser

There they are completely pulled out of me ass. Some of them are kind of stupid.... But hey I'm fucking PMSing.... and ate brownies and Sweet Tarts for breakfast... How would you feel?

"you might have gone down as the first person to ever fall in love with the sadness of another"

Saddened by the false plight of each day
You write of ghosts of the current
jean baptiste pierrer de monet
See you, me, learnt

Love my flaws, hate my cause
I am low
You the ever constant faux pas
Love my woe

Creator of insecurity
You the one who speaks of such plight
You the one who is not of maturity
I am not yours to excite

Though all you speak of is disdain
I now believe it is all of your vain


....Not a whole lot of poems make sense to me. This one probably doesn't make sense to you. It's something to me. I think it's some sort of a stand from when I was fifteen and in love with prick angsty boys. Oh how time does change us.

Writing Prompt #5 Choice of poem and style of writing.

"Choose a poem you like. Take the last line of that poem and use that as the first line of your own poem"

Response:
The poem I choose is "The First Dream" by Billy Collins in honor of a live journal I used to stalk when I was fifteen and super impressionable. This kid was super hot for geek standards I guess. I looked at a picture of him again once and realized he wasn't that attractive. Not to mention he was some sort of geek slore who didn't truly like me anyway. He wrote about me though which I found strange. The closest I'll ever be to someone's muse I suppose, if you could even call it that.
I guess I'm glad I grew out of that phase, but he is a part of that magical teenage fairy land I used to belong to. He wrote too moody. Like some stupid angsty fruit cake. I hate angst but of course in Magical Teenage Fairy Land, 'angst' is part of the Pledge of Allegiance. It makes a boy who does nothing but play video games and complain look like an intense man of mystery. I hope he's not the same. I mean video games are okay but angst isn't. In Magical Teenage Fairy Land, I saw myself as some sort of muse of course. Wondering if I was girl 'x', 'y', or 'z' as he called it. I was girl 'x' apparently.
I don't think I really pity myself back then because a lot of us go through that. I think all of us in fact go through that. We think so much of ourselves and our thoughts when no one is listening. We need to grab hold of that. I fear for those who don't in light of the past week or two. Anyways, to the poem.

"The First Dream"

The Wind is ghosting around the house tonight
and as I lean against the door of sleep
I begin to think about the first person to dream,
how quiet he must have seemed the next morning

as the others stood around the fire
draped in the skins of animals
talking to each other only in vowels,
for this was long before the invention of consonants.

He might have gone off by himself to sit
on a rock and look into the mist of a lake
as he tried to tell himself what had happened,
how he had gone somewhere without going,

how he had put his arms around the neck
of a beast that the others could touch
only after they had killed it with stones,
how he felt its breath on his bare neck.

Then again, the first dream could have come
to a woman, though she would behave,
I suppose, much the same way,
moving off by herself to be alone near water,

except that the curve of her young shoulders
and the tilt of her downcast head
would make her appear to be terribly alone,
and if you were there to notice this,

you might have gone down as the first person
to ever fall in love with the sadness of another.

Well the last line is 

"you might have gone down as the first person to ever fall in love with the sadness of another"

I'd like to tweak this so that line isn't the first line of my poem but my title. I think I'll write a sonnet. How will I do this? I'll write it in English and not Italian for obvious reasons (mind you I'm referring to eHow's version of how to write a sonnet). Divide my ideas into two sections. The first section describing the situation and the second the climax. The first section is three quatrains which is three stanzas (poetic paragraphs pretty much) of four lines. Write the three quatrains with an a-b-a-b, c-d-c-d, e-f, e-f rhyme scheme, which means each stanza of four lines has to have one sentence that rhymes with every other sentence kind of like oh I don't know you're a rat, you're a chair, your ugly cat, is on my chair. Apparently I'm going to have to do some research on iambic meter. I'll look that up after work. The poem then ends with a couplet seeing as I would have used twelve of my fourteen  lines. It's all coming back to me from when I was researching how to write one in Mr. Harris' class because he was teaching about something lame like Macbeth. That's another thing. Girls of a teenage manner are only interested in love or horses. I will have to write the poem after work because I've got to get ready for work, so I'll be brainstorming alllll night. 

"You Might Have Gone Down as the First Person to Ever Fall in Love with the Sadness of Another"

Will be my title.

Writing Prompt #4 Part II

One month after the absolutely charming Prince Charming brought the glass slipper to the Cinder's castle, Drizella, her sister Anastasia, and her mother had just about planned the perfect royal wedding. Drizella had managed to fake her way to a royal courtship and then all the way to a royal wedding.
The Charming castle had been a sight for sore eyes. White roses lined the isles through out the chapel. The walls of the chapel had been a soft pastel blue and the ceilings had been illuminated with gold flowered patterns and biblical painted pictures.
Emilie was rushed, spinning circles around her step sister Drizella as Anastasia huffed and puffed in the corner. She had truly believed that she was the one who was supposed to be in the wedding gown with a train ten feet long.
Emilie knew deep down that she should have been in Drizella's place and she also knew Drizella's reasoning. She had been been told not to show her face up until now, when the prince couldn't possibly take back his proposal. After Emilie helped Drizella become a beautiful bride, she slipped out of the powder room in the chapel and took a stroll around the castle.
...It had been a breath taking place. The room, the paintings, the gardens, everything about the castle was magical. The people even were magical. I couldn't help but think of what it would be like to live here. Just to be a lowly servant here would be a fairy tale. To be the next Queen of Far Far Away would be something I couldn't even fathom. To marry the Prince Charming. I could only imagine what is racing through Drizella's thoughts as of now. If I could only see the Prince Charming again. He would take me away from my step mother and Anastasia. What a life it could be.
As I marveled at the castle's many beauties and wonders I happen to round the corner and run into someone therefore losing my balance and falling like a rock to the ground. I happened to knock the other person down in the process. He was dressed in some of the most regal fabrics a man could ever dress in and apparently had already found his footing. A hand reached down before I could look up. I grabbed it and as I rose I recognized this man, the Prince. It took him a moment before he realized who I was and he fainted. Apparently he had been more shocked than I about our chance meeting. I called for help from some of his loyal subjects and we rushed him into a corridor a few steps away.
As he came to, the Prince's eyes went from a sleepy gaze to a full on gawk. "I must know your name."
"Emilie Cinder sire step sister of your wife to be, Drizella." I said with a solemn look on my face because I knew it was too late.
"You forgot your slipper at the gala a month ago." He smiled.
"I had a curfew I was about to miss and an evil step mother you do the arithmetic." I laughed.
Without hesitation the Prince asked for my hand in marriage. Hey, he wasn't married yet!
I said 'yes' without a thought of regret. It was the right thing to do. This was destiny slapping us in the faces.
As I rose from his side and I realized Drizella had been standing in the doorway, smiling. Relieved of her duties to marry the Prince Charming, she gave me a happy embrace. "Oh thank God." She said in a sob and she looked at the Prince. "I just couldn't take all that charm Charming. It was cramping my style. Don't get me wrong you are the most lovely man I ever met, but just not for me."...
That day Cinderella met her prince for the very second time, and married him. Another chance meeting had not been too little too late after all. Luckily for Cinderella, marrying the Prince had it's benefits. He demanded he would only marry her if she would don the dress she had worn the night they met, Evelyn's detailed silk wedding gown and her enchanting glass slippers. Drizella was excused for not telling the Prince about Emilie. Luckily being someone peer pressured by your mother gives you the benefit of the doubt when your in trouble. She had the honor of being Emilie's Maid of Honor that lovely spring day Cinderella and Prince Charming got married. Drizella and her evil mother had been banished to Spain, never to visit Far Far Away, France again.
The bride's side was small but she did have a few good individuals there to celebrate with her, all the servants turned noble men that day from the Cinder residence, her adorable pet mice the Cinder noble men brought along, Bruno her lovable Great Dane, Lucifer, now her slightly evil cat (who eyed up all her little mice friends), her father's noble white horse, and of course, the most important guest of all her Godmother.
As for the Cinder residence it was brought back to life. The Prince Charming's loyal subjects took a month to restore the place. When it was finished it was just a great as the castle if not better. The former Cinder servants then by the Prince and Princess' grant lived there and lived happily ever after. As for the Prince and Princess Charming themselves, they also lived happily ever after.
So it is the happy ending all the expect, but this time not so easily granted. Even for someone as regal and untouchable as the Prince Charming his most lovely wife, Cinderella.

Writing Prompt # 4 Part I

Prompt: (I'm not quoting it because it's kind of long) Basically the prompt is about Cinderella and how fairy tell endings are pretty much boring. Happily ever after blah blah blah. What if the shoe fit one of the "icky" sisters as they called it. What happens in the story then?

Response:
As I just barely can see the prince arriving at our home I feel an immediate restraint. PANIC! rushes over my body as I am dragged against my will down the stone cold stairs of my deceased father's castle, a distant shadow of the happy childhood I once lived. I scratch at the heavy wooden beams supporting the staircase and as the damp cold stairs as my step mother holds me by my hair and pulls me to the dark cellar. She throws me to the ground. THUNK! black.
Meanwhile....
"Retrieve my brush Anastasia and Drizella put on a kettle of hot water, the Prince's coach is driving down the path to our residence! We don't want to keep him waiting for a silly spot of tea, do we? So hop to it!"
"Yes mother." I answer as I pour water into the old brass tea kettle. This thing is ancient. It is tarnished and the detail is fading. We ought to purchase a new one. What if the Prince could see this? What would he think of our family? Cheap, poor, slovenly. Can't even take care of our belongings.
"Oh Prince ******** how lovely it is for you to visit our humble abode!"I head my mother say. The tea kettle starts screeching. "Would you like a bit of tea?"
I hear mumbling in the foyer as I pour the tea into Emilie's mother's china teacups. Four small porcelain teacups detailed in beautiful little lavender and lilac flowers. According to most of the china in this castle, I had always thought Emilie's mother's taste was impeccable. Sometimes I really pitied Emilie for being treated so harshly by my mother and my sister Anastasia. She just takes it. I think she's too kind to stand up for herself. She can always see past anyone's flaws. My mother and dear sister's excuse was because of her father's death seven years back. She thinks the financial woes have taken a toll on them, therefore they can blame her for all the bad in our lives. I mean it was her father that passed away, so she's the closest to the true blame for all this near poverty. Of course secretly I don't feel the same.
"I would like to get down to business ladies if you will. I came here today because at last night's galla I swear to you I danced with the woman who is going to be my wife. Now the candle light was real low and I couldn't exactly make out the face of this woman and I didn't catch her name, but, I did find this beautiful glass slipper. I knew it was hers because I had said to her 'hey that's a lovely pair of glass slippers' and she laughed! So, since last night, I have been searching the kingdom in this hung over state of mind to find this glass slipper woman! Can you help me?"
"Why sire of course we could help you! We'd be very much obliged! Now, Anastasia, Drizella, try the man's shoe on!"
I walk out into the sitting area confused because I didn't even dance with a man last evening.  I sat on a fluffy sofa. Red cushions surrounded me as a got comfortable. "Drizella, try on Prince ********'s slipper." I slipped on the cold slipper, remembering to myself faintly something about Emilie. One day in her bedroom in the dank cellar, Emilie showed me something as a child. She struggled to pull a trunk out from beneath her crooked bed. It was dusty but beneath the thick layer of soot and dust, the top of the box read Evelyn Cinder (Emilie's mother). She opened the heavy trunk lid to reveal some of the most beautiful things I have ever laid eyes on. Love letters written from Emilie's father while he was away at court, dried tea roses also supposedly from her father for her mother, and then I saw two things that I would never forget for as long as I lived. She pulled from her mother's trunk a beautiful silk dress. The color of the sky blue in spring time when everything has thawed and pulled away from winter's cold claws. The detail of the dress was uncanny. Beautiful embroidered vines of ivy throughout the fabric, and beautiful encrusted beads dancing in the shape of flowers throughout the bodice of the outfit. It was just unbelievable. Then she pulled out something else so beautiful, I could not believe my eyes. Glass slippers. Clear glass slippers specially made for Evelyn Cinder from her lover Paul Cinder, my now deceased stepfather.
This memory came rushing back to me in a shock. Then a wave of panic and realization consumed my thoughts. I looked at my step mother who knew what I had thought because it was not an hour later after Anastasia found Emilie and I in her cellar bedroom with that trunk did my mother take the trunk from her. Emilie cried and cried that night. I tried to comfort her but there was no consoling her.
I excused myself for a moment realizing that the shoe happened to fit my foot. My mother excused herself politely and followed me into the kitchen. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" She said in a panicked whisper.
"Those are Evelyn Cinder's slippers, therefore they are Emilie's slippers, and I did not wear them last night at the ball" My mother and I glanced out into the sitting area as we caught a glance of Anastasia forcing her foot into the shoe.
"Do you realize the Prince has searched through out his whole kingdom and has not found a match for that slipper? Do you realize how detrimental this is? If you deny it is your slipper we will live in poverty forever. We will work for a living. It is not  normal for a respectable woman to work. I will not live with dry, flakey hands for the rest of my life. I will not do it and nor will Anastasia or you."
"What's so awful about it? Emilie does it everyday." My voice's volume escalating.
"Cinderella is not of our concern. She lives here to serve us. You are betraying your family if you do not accept that shoe as your own."
I think about it for minute and imagine my mother in poverty. I imagine losing the house that our servants live in. They have no where else to go. It doesn't even cross my mind about Emilie. As I came to the realization that for once my mother depends on me, I am of some importance over Anastasia for once. Without a word to my mother I put the shoe on again so the Prince can see. The shoe fits. He proposes to me with the most beautiful ring I have ever seen, something Evelyn Cinder would have worn, and I accept without hesitation.

Writing Prompt #3

The prompt is to pick 10 words for my blog from the dictionary and to make up my own meanings for them. So here are my 10 words, their meanings will follow at the bottom:

Response:
"plenipotentiary"- plenty of potential! This word reminds me of numbers. A method of working numbers. It looks like a word that exists in the indexes of algebraic textbooks for high school. The very sound of it with all the 'p' sounds that pop as you say it. "PleniPotentiary"
"sockdolager"- Sounds a lot like a beer. A humorous name for a beer that some guy and his friends from the suburbs of Cleveland brewed and thought up. It's kind of catchy.
"vulpine"- Either a villain from Hell or outerspace, or an evergreen tree you by for Christmas that's expensive because the needles don't fall off.
"engram"- Something you'd get done involving X-rays at the Hillcrest Hospital down the street. Either that or something involving an acid bath at C.I.A (keep crossing those fingers for me!)
"tristful"- Triscuits! Maybe it sounds harsh in a cute sense. Almost like spiteful but not as spitey if you will.
"liminal"- minimal. Limited. Something along those lines as far as meanings go.
"hyaline" sounds like a chemical you can get high off of. It sounds like a blue word.
"dithyrambic" a therapy of some sort or part of your body like dithyrambic calves. The word reminds me of thyroid.
"prosopography" another poppy 'p' word. Sounds like a typing method. Or like lithography. A way to take pictures and develop them manually in a dark room. It sounds artistic.
"philter"- sounds like the 'f' version of this word. It reminds me of being in a pool with a filter floating around. I am filtering what I say. I am censoring myself.

Actual Meanings:
1_ "plenipotentiary"_ invested with full power
2_"sockdolager"_a decisive blow or remark
3_"vulpine"_cunning or crafty
4_"engram"_ a hypothetical trace of memory in the brain
5_"tristful"_ full of sadness, sorrow
6_"liminal"_ a point beyond which a sensation becomes too faint to be experienced
7_"hyaline"_glass or transparent
8_"dithyrambic"_ wildly enthusiastic
9_"prosopography"_ a description of a person
10_"philter"_ a potion or charm that should make a person fall in love

Actually a fun exercise. You should try it some time you'll learn something. Perhaps I'll have another entry tonight! Don't forget to check out my other blogs as I'm learning to write out everything. Thank you for visiting for my third serious post on this blog. <3

Writing Prompt #2

"A picture is worth more than a blank page. Take out those dusty photo albums. Pick out photo number 14.  Look at the photo for 2-3 minutes. Then for 10 minutes write about how that photo made you feel. Don't censor your self, just write."

Response:

To find the photograph I referred to my iPhoto album and this was the 14th picture. Now I know I'm slightly cheating by showing you the actual photo and referring to it, but I kind of have to so you can have the full effect!
Very good memory with this one it's actually the Kid Cudi concert last summer. I remember we took the train to Cleveland from Shaker Heights to get there. It was pretty cool because I never realized that I didn't have to have my car to get there and in turn didn't have to find parking. We walk all the way from Tower City to this place. I remember being afraid to sit down for fear that I'd get my butt all green. I remember it was excruciatingly hot out and being sooooo thirsty and the stands were running out of water to sell. Kid Cudi actually was decked by some random kid in the audience while singing "Revofev" on of his new songs off the Man on the Moon Vol II: The Legend of Mr.Rager.
The train was pretty damn hectic. All these 15 year olds everywhere! The police were letting us onto the train little by little. One of the cops got into Brian's face and I started to go after him and Katelyn was holding me back (very sixth grade of me I might add). Good times!
I think this photograph just reminds me how awesome Cleveland is even though it's kind of boring. There's still little nooks and crannies around the city that are awesome. Like Coventry....
This picture makes me miss Katelyn pretty bad (and I'm not saying that because you said you'd read this woman! I miss you bitch! Not to mention that dress was an awesome choice! I dedicate this blog to our friendship... I can't wait for you to come back into town! Love you!!!

Writing Prompt #1

"Close your eyes briefly. Think of one object in the room and focus on it. Without opening your eyes recall as much detail as you can about it. After 3 minutes or so open, your eyes and write about that object without looking at it."

Response:
"The Hanging Mason Jar"
Dear Mason/Ball Jar,
You are indeed one of my favorite objects in my living room area because you bring so much to the table.  You are like the Marilyn Monroe of my few decorations here in 1**7 Longw*** Drive in May***** Heights, Ohio. You are classic, never out of style, and just capable of so much. You hold so much potential in the container world! I make pickles in you, with the risk of sounding dirty. Not only have I done this, but my mother, cousin Shelly, and grandmums have also. Not only do you make lovely, delicious pickles, but you make tasty beans, peppers, and canned tomatoes. You are patient as you can sit in cold storage for what seems like forever. You are green. You are reusable which makes you trendy.
Here you are hanging from a gnarly piece of twine in my living room. Holding left over peat moss from my Christmas floral arrangements. Dusty, tangly strands that are impossible to tear apart covered in silver glitter.
You have glass detail with measurements and cursive bubbling up from your clear surface. You are very transparent. I suppose it's by nature... You always let us see the inside. You wear your heart on your sleeve.
I just wanted to say thank you for being beautiful. Thank you for holding my flowers for me. For being dependable.  You're pretty great.
Love,
Christina

Found this website on Stumble...

It has 346 writing prompts and I am a firm believer in writing everyday to keep the juices flowing in my pint sized brain so here it is... a full blog about writing prompts... no continuing blogs (unless I magically link each blog together to thread together some sort of story which I probably don't have much time to and what not so...)
So sit back and enjoy...no rules except one...I have to follow each prompt....