100 posts and still going at a mildly mediocre strength!!!!

So, here she be, ladies and gents.

My 100th blog post.

Oh, I'm sorry. Did you want something more like...


MY 100TH BLOG POST!!!!!!!!!!


...that?

You know, I kept debating whether to make this an occasion, a big deal, a huge, awesome blog about something really super cool, but in the spirit of tradition, I'm just gonna let my mind wander and see what comes of it, and perhaps we'll meet a few surprises on the way (and no, they're not cute men. Wah).

Remember last year when I was doing all that spring cleaning, and finding loads of memories and deciding whether to throw them away or not? Well, I cleaned out my car this week, I mean, cleaned it. Even the trunk *GASP*.

And I found these notebooks.

I didn't really recognize them for what their subject matter may have been in their time of my using them, so I curiously flipped through the crinkled pages (they've been sitting in there for just about 2 years now) and was very pleasantly surprised with what I found.

The first was my Voice for the Actor II notebook. It contains a lot of IPA, and loads of scribbly notes to a certain boy I fancied who sat next to me in class quite often (i.e. an arrow pointing to the bottom of the page, indicating that it is pointed at me, reading, "Cutie pie." Also included, the outline for "Helen Keller the Musical!" Amazing.

HAH! A list of all the words you can make by replacing "Corn" with "Porn":

• porn
• porn on the cob
• porn bread
• pop porn
• creamed porn (ew)
• shucked porn
• ear of porn
• fields of porn
• porn flakes
• porn starch
• porn syrup
• Indian porn
• steamed porn

Missing, of course, is "baby porn". .....

My family, ladies and gentlemen. 

The second notebook contained all my notes and stories from Creative Writing in 2008. I was sort of shocked at what I found I had written two years ago. 

The first one is really lame so I'm not going to post that one.

The second one was really weird, and I can't remember for the life of me the context, concept, or incentive. But here it is:

"The morning came too soon. She awoke in his bed, her body wrapped in his. The sunlight through the window created a golden blanket upon the bed, as perfect as the two who lie in it. She couldn't remember a morning when waking next to him didn't elate her since the day they met. Relationships like that were rare, she thought. She pressed her lips gently to his and watched his eyes flicker and then open, and upon seeing her face in the sunlight, he smiled. Again, their lips met, for longer this time. Never before had she felt such passion in a kiss than she felt in everyone one of his . No sooner had he reached for the skirt of her nightgown did the door door swing open. 

She hadn't expected her husband home for three more days. But there he was, standing in teh doorway, his eyes darting from his wife to his brother. She didn't know whether to run to him and tell him it was all a mistake or to scream and blurt out, "It's not what it looks like!" Before she could make a decision her husband had made his. He stumbled over to the closet and fumbled through clothes. Before she could figure out what it was he was doing, though she had a good idea, she leaped from the bed and quickly made her way out of the house. 

The backyard was vast and fenced in. There were some cows grazing sporadically around her as she searched for a place to hide. Her frantic thoughts were interrupted by gunfire inside the house behind her. She had left her adulterer behind, and now she feared she would never see him again.

Her thoughts returned to herself and the cows around her. She turned her footsteps toward teh large red barn off to the right. It was further off than she hoped her sanctuary to be, but at this point she had no other options. Behind her, the sound of a screen door opening made her heart jump into her throat and her eyes water in fear. The feeding cows were stirring in all the commotion, but it was when the bullet burst from her husband's gun with a deafening noise that made them run.

The bullet whizzed past her ear. She prayed that his aim wouldn't improve until she could reach the safety of the barn. She could see in her peripheral vision that she was now running alongside one of the heifers which was probably just as frightened as she was. Her senses were more alert than they'd ever been, but her ears were unable to pick up the sound of her husband's footsteps that were covered up by the even louder pounding of hooves on the dirt. 

In one moment, she saw her husband standing at her immediate left, about fifteen yards away. She heard again the noise that"

And that's it. I didn't finish it. Too bad for you! Hah. Sorry. No seriously though, it's not done. I'm kinda pissed at myself, too! What a cliffhanger!

I would just like to state for the record that this story is NOT based on true events. Just sayin'. 

Not sure what this one's about. There are two different takes on it. Must have been some sort of, "Write it one way, then write it again but change it..." kind of things?

"She walked like the dead in an old zombie flick. Her feet dragged on the carpet with every clumsy step, making their way to the bathroom. In the dim light of the room, I could see only her silhouette, thin and attractive, wishing that I had the courage to stumble into the bathroom with her before she closed the door behind her.

---

She walked like the dead in an old zombie flick. Her hair was tossed about her head like fresh spaghetti. I watched her chipped fingernails reach for the refrigerator. The rest of us were sprawled around all over the living room like the remnants of war. But she reached for another, claiming that she would feel nothing tomorrow if she kept going today."

I feel like I didn't write that. Like that last line could not have possibly come from as feeble a mind as mine. Come to think of it, I think this was one of those exercises where they give you the first line, then you have to just go off of it, and then do it again with the same line. Yup. That must have been it. Not sure what it was about? 

Here's another one. This one's a little more non-fictiony, more reflective:

"She was never really one to cause conflict, but now there she was, right in the middle of what she thought could be the greatest conflict of her short life so far. She screwed up, she could admit that much, but did she want to lose what she had ruined? Could she bear to knowingly throw away two and a half years of her life for something she was so unsure of? She had already thrown it away, she knew. But if it was so willing to be mended, so eager to be fixed, could she deny it that small favor?

On the other hand, her catalyst patiently awaited, as it had been waiting for so long. It was because of him that she was enduring this conflict, but she couldn't help but think that it had happened for a reason."

The subject of this one is quite obvious to me. The "thing" that needed mending is no longer, very much no longer, and the "catalyst" is now somewhere far away and out of touch, for the most part. It's so, so very strange how much life changes in a matter of two years.

So that was a glimpse into my Writings of the Creative type. Hope you enjoyed them. 

Another thing I need to hit on at some point in this blog, like...erm....now, perhaps, since I've just brought it up (as if I were going to briefly bring it up and then leave it alone and come back to it later??). A few weeks back I just happened to catch an episode of Grey's Anatomy that I had seen before, but there was nothing else on so I continued to watch. Suddenly, a song came on that I remembered had stricken me the first time I saw the episode. This time around, I was wise enough to retain a line of the lyrics and type them into a search engine. The song was called "Everything at Once," and the artist was Lenka. I clicked on the first video that came up on YouTube, and my obsession with the music of Lenka began. The song "Heart Skips A Beat" is infectious, which is punny because in the video she's on an operating table (a la "Operation"). Get it? Infection? Doctor? No. Okay. Anyway, eventually she gets up and starts dancing with a bunch of people with stethoscope heads. It's amazingly fun.

I immediately bought two of her albums on iTunes. Her latest album, "Two," had just come out days before, so I wasn't too far off with getting on board the Lenka-Train, but her first self-titled album has been out for a while, so shame on me for never having known who she was until now.

I LOVE LENKA. She makes me want to eat rainbows for breakfast and ride a unicorn to work.

"My life is full of loveliness, but I focus on the stress. My heart says, 'Go,' but my brains says, 'No.'"

IT'S LIKE SHE KNOWS ME!!

Even her song titled, "Sad Song" is ridiculously upbeat! What is going on! I do not mind it! Please make the happiness continue!

What! It DOES continue??

Lenka even makes Trouble seem nice?? He's a FRIEND, you say, Lenka?? AMAZING.

Please write the soundtrack to my life. I will pay you in Lucky Charms and eskimo kisses.

But in all seriousness, her music is sort of an escape for me, recently. It's not as if there is anything remotely bad going on in my life, but who knows, perhaps it is because I'm listening to such lovely, bubbly music that there is no negativity going on right now. :) Takes my mind off of those things I can't seem to scrape out of the back of my head. Like grease. In a pan. After you make ... something that leaves grease. In the pan.

....

Well. I think it's about time I should go to sleep. My eyes are droopy like Snoopy and my thoughts are starting to become mildly reminiscent of a preschooler's.

Poopy.

Night, y'all.

Thanks for stickin' around these past 100 blogs.

The most recent picture of me on my computer. My cat's a-creepin'. 

Molly