Ingrid Superstar- Warning: Contains Hot Button Issues!

"Then all of a sudden everything burst, like a rainbow coloured soap bubble."- The Devils

"Funny, I don't remember being absent minded"- Oscar Wilde

"Living on Earth is expensive, but it does include a free trip round the sun."- Oscar Wilde

"Don't be silly! Kings don't hurt babies! Giant pointy swords hurt babies!"- Mr. Burns, The Simpsons (duh)

"The clover under your feet is shooting stars in the night.The people under your feet are shooting stars in the night.The people, all that you meet, they're living in a dreamworld."- Dreamworld, Rilo Kiley

"I read the news today oh, boy

Four thousand holes in blackburn, lancashire

And though the holes were rather small

They had to count them all

Now they know how many holes

it takes to fill the albert hall"

- A Day In The Life, The Beatles

So Today Darlings, I'm Feeling like a bit of nonsense.

So in the spirit for nonsense, here's the most nonsensical poem, chockful of portmaneaus and chortles.

The Jabberwolky Poem

(From Through The Looking Glass)

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe;

All mimsy were the borogoves,And the mome raths outgrabe.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!

The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!

Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun the frumious Bandersnatch!"

He took his vorpal sword in hand:

Long time the manxome foe he sought—

So rested he by the Tumtum tree,

And stood awhile in thought.

And as in uffish thought he stood,

The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,

Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,

And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! and through and through

The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!

He left it dead, and with its head

He went galumphing back.

"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?

Come to my arms, my beamish boy!O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"

He chortled in his joy.

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe;

All mimsy were the borogoves,And the mome raths outgrabe.

I really love this poem. I think it's the first poem I ever read, its certainly the first poem I ever remember reading. When I was like 4 or 5, a friend of my mom's gave me a cassette tape book of Through The Looking Glass, the sequel (and exponentially better than) Alice's Adventures In Wonderland (all the good stuff in the Disney movie-with I finally snagged my own copy of- was from Through The Looking Glass) read by Christopher Plummer, and I listened to it so many times I actually broke the tape!

The poem is suposed to be all twisted around, and not make any sense, because It's a "Looking Glass" poem, that Alice could only read when held up to the mirror in the looking glass world(the reason, I learned how to read and write backwards writing).

It's actually its' own genre of poetry, called a nonsense poem!

Jabberwolky- I know it's cliche to love it so much, but I really do. It's just so whimsical and planned out-yet it gives the air of being innocent and carefree (Did you Charles Dodgson, AKA. Lewis Carroll was actually a mathematician? Or in my language- Mathamagician, which certainly makes the boring job more exciting. Never mind that he was rumoured to indulge in certain drugs and take suspicious photographs of little girls). The clueless principal in Heathers has seen worse: "Now I've seen a lot of bullshit... angel dust, switchblades, sexually perverse photography involving tennis rackets... "

It also spanned an awesome word: Mimsy! I don't know what it means, but it sounds like whimsy and tipsy, so maybe its a state of whimsy, you get when you're drunk? Still working on it. Yes, Humpty Dumpty said its supposed to mean flimsy and miserable, but I like my meaning better. And this is the guy who repeatedly falls off walls, I'm not taking his word for it (mind you, I'm not much better. I have fallen off walls before...sober.....that's skilled).

In New York, I was transfixed by the Alice statues in Central Park, which had Jabberwolky, and other quotes from the two books, etched around the base. I'm such a Wonderland freak, I guess it spawned my eternal, legendary love of all things Kitsch (the Kitchen, it's where we do our kitsching). Ahh, Kitsch, the reason I will buy anything that looks like something else (chocolate bar mirror, heart shaped headphones, plush electric guitar, bow tie necklace), so tacky you have to love it (Lovett). Kitsch cult, also links up to my love of almost everything cult or camp (Plan Nine or John Waters anyone?). The stuff you love to death, and the stuff you love to laugh at.

Anyway.... the nature of Jabberwolky as a nonsense poem, enabled Lewis Carroll to make-up his own words, some of which, notably Chortle and Galumping, moved into regular vocab.

If I'm ever considered, a real writer, I would love to this! Sometimes I do it even now. My infamous portmaneau (combination of two words), Hilo, has been used by quite a few people.

The only other writer, who I've ever seen get this much leeway to create words is Shakespeare, who apparently made up hundreds or thousands.
Speaking of Shakespeare, apparently (and this is according to a university professor of english), if you don't understand something in Shakespeare, the safe way to interpret it is to assume it refers to sex. Really!

Would I lie to you?

Speaking of childhood, you know what I miss? Count Chocula (the favourite cereal of our friend Dwight-the ignorant slut). Gots to get me some!

So , After a specific incidence at work today (that I heard about, but wasn't invovled in), I'm feeling frazzled and confused. I know I've said this before, but I just cannnot understand why people have to fight about things like religion (which is supposed to be about love and bringing people together)(*see the Crusades), politics, and sexual orientation! I'm all for discussion, and trying to understand other peoples beliefs, but even if you don't agree, you should at least be polite and tolerate them!
I mean, as long as their belief isn't killing or raping people, its ok. Insults ARE NOT OK! Generalizing who classes or groups of people is NOT OK! Why must we be so juvenile? This sounds like elementary school, when We'd all say someone had 'cooties', or something!

We should just make an effort to learn about other peoples beliefs and understand them, because really, most of the hate or intolerance in this world stems from ignorance.

In regards to the topic of sexual orientation, I've never seen why this is such a big issue with some people! I mean, in my world (the world I was raised in), there are just different forms of love and relationships, and none are more normal or acceptable, than any others.

So she likes guys, so she likes girls, so he likes girls, and he likes guys.

Whatever!

Why does everyone in power feel like there's some big difference or some dividing line, or something that makes one kind of marriage okay and not another (and I'm talkng to you California!)

I'm straight, but I just can't stand when people are intolerant, or pretend to be all ok with other peoples' relationships, then turn around and criticize same sex relationships, or hold different standards or reglulations up to them. A while ago, I was with my good friend and her mom, driving somewhere and they start talking about her mom's lesbian co-worker who brought her girlfriend to their christmas party. And they're saying that they think this is inappropriate and are complaining about it. I mean all she did was bring the person that she is in a relationship with to the christmas party, just like all the heterosexual couples there, are apparently this makes it different.

This really bugs me.

Now, my friend is someone who says that she is a tolerant person who believes in equality and fair treatment, but apparently only to a certain degree.

This is just not ok!

It seriously bothers me, that we consider ourselves the tolerant and understanding generation, but even people like my sister, who claim to share my beliefs on this topic, use "That's Gay. "

As an insult, or a synonym for lame.

What the fuck!

Come on! We can't we all get along and love each other?

This is so incredibly true:

"One desperate attempt after another to find something in common with someone else and then cling. “Hey, you have ten fingers, I have ten fingers, let's be friends. We'll make rules and slogans. Then if we find someone with nine fingers, we can beat the crap out of them.” "
—George Lass, Dead Like Me

Somehow, we can't be happy with ourselves without having someone to hate or blame the bad things in our lives, or the things we hate about ourselves on.
We just fail at life.

I really wish there were purple people! That would be so cool! Like Ronald McDonald's old pal Grimace or the old camp (the other kind of camp) standby, Purple People eaters.

I almost bought, Nine Stories, the other day. The only Salinger (that we know of...) that I have yet to read. I really want to read For Esme, With Love And Squalor (namesake of Count Olaf's girlfriend, Esme Squalor), and Seymour Glass' suicide, so I really have to get it soon! Also, Gregory Maguire's Snow White reworking, Mirror Mirror, and my own copy of Fear and Loathing In Las Vegas. Ooh! And more of those starred fake converse!

And I wonder why I don't have any money. I'm going to be so screwed next year!

If your wondering why I'm in such a bad/preachy/quasi political rant mood today,

well, today I was sick and stayed home from school. When I stay home from school, I pretty much sleep the entire day, and my Dad's always on me to try to go to my afternoon classes (...right).

So I'm planning to call my boss and tell them, I'm sick and need to stay home, but I don't wake up until about ten minutes before I have to be there, so I'm rushing to get ready and I leave groggy and without make-up, so my skin looks all red and my hair's all mussed (the drawback to being a girl, you suddenly get all worried about being ugly without make-up).

So, really work wasn't so bad.

Hawaiian pizza (which makes me feel all sixth grade and Jessica Wakefield), sign language, designing logos, borrowed body bags and cake (one of my bosses is leaving. So sad!); its actually a pretty cushy job.

Apparently Coraline is really good, and according to my boss, I would enjoy it. He often says I'll enjoy things, and he's usually right, so I'll take his word for it. I guess we have pretty similar taste, but I have to wonder how he knows what I'll like? Been lurking my Facebook?

Today he made references to Cake's Short Skirt, Long Jacket.

The entire meeting, I'm sitting there laughing and talking alternatedly with the people sitting on either side of me, and for some reason we're all calling everything superstar, and me being so cool (debatable...) I start adding Ingrid, cause it sounds cool to me. Hence the post title, after a post Edie, Warhol Superstar.

So we did another team building exercise today, (since I wrote the agenda, it was refered to as super cool mega awesome team buliding), it was another of those personality discovery quizzes where we liken ourselves to often bizarre things (boats?). And here's my results (if you care):

If you were a, you'd be:

Fruit: Strawberry

Historical Figure: Marie Antoinette (except...you know, without the dying)

Cartoon Character: Harley Quinn

Superhero: Batgirl (yes, I've heavy in my DC loyalty)

Piece Of Furniture: Bed

Plant:Daisy
Drapery: Those gauzy see-through curtains that are basically useless, but let the sun in (remember Sun-In?)

Boat: Canoe (the only kind I really know)

Facial Feature: Eyes

Car: Red Mini

Finger: Pinkie

Nail Polish: Pink Sparkly or Black (someone said clear. BOR-RING!)

Animal: Bird (or Unicorn)

Not really sure the relevance, or exactely what this says about me... That I'm insane, conceited and overly materialistic? Well you already knew that.

Last time we did personality discovery stuff, I found this out: (it was Personality Dimensions/True Colours, and I was Blue, Orange, Green, Gold)

Blue and Orange Blend into the Sunburst:

Just as the name sunburst suggest, this combination loves a bright, passionate life. They are very right-brained, taking in everything at once. Their strong feelings come bubbling out with lots of physical energy. They are irrepressible and their joy of life infectious. This energy can burst forth at just the right time, but sometimes it can come at inappropriate times as well.
They love their work, finding it an ongoing adventure of discovery. Usually, their work is with other people, as people are endlessly fascinating. The combination of the desire for freedom of the Orange and the need for meaning and significance of the Blue gives them the energy to be creative, full of fantasy, with fiery feelings and a desire to experiment. They need to relate to the people they work with or for. They find a lot of personal satisfaction in their encounters even if they are only momentary. They have a lot of physical energy and need to keep on the move, but they do it with sensitivity.
A key emotion for Sunbursts is love. Their love is expressed in all their relationships — clients, coworkers, friends, family, and particularly in their most intimate relationships. They express their love with enthusiasm.
Everyone needs some down time, and if they do not take a break now and then, they can become depressed. Taking some “me” time usually brings them back to their old bubbly self.
Not all of their feelings are bright and sunny. They have negative feelings too, and these tend to be very strong. They can get angriest at the ones they love the most. A cooling off time is very beneficial. Often the anger is based on a misunderstanding. Being able to examine the problem objectively can often bring resolution. Making up can be just as passionate.
Being very creative and needing the freedom to create, neatness is not usually a high priority for Sunbursts. Sometimes it can get a little too “creative” and major organization is needed. They can be quite comfortable living in chaos. They know where everything is. Others colours may not be as tolerant.
The Orange part wants to do it now. The Blue part wants everyone to be happy. Sometimes an action without thought can cause pain to others. This causes their Blue part to feel guilty. On the other hand, when they are always trying to do their best for others, the Orange part can feel resentful of the restrictions it places on them. They need to keep these two parts in balance. High energy and strong feelings are a double-edged sword.
Extraverted Sunbursts are out there for everyone to see and enjoy. The Introverted sunbursts are there as well but working away in the background, impulsively doing good things for people.

It's pretty accurate. Almost scarily, I can be a bit of a submissive doormat, expessily around my Green and Gold friends.

And yes, I do get paid to do this (like 10 bucks an hour). We're hiring in September.

Last night, I was bored so at I like 3:00 in the morning, I started watching this old Rose Mcgowan movie on Youtube, Devil in the Flesh, where she's a high school student, who kills like seven people (her mom, step-dad, grandmother's dog, grandmother, a pervy jock, her social worker, her best friend, and a cop) because she's in love with her teacher, and then tries to kill him because he says he doesn't love her. Basically the same as Poison Ivy (Drew Barrymore with ultra bleach hair) and The Crush (Alicia Silverstone), but with more killing, and some interesting nineties music.

Gotta say, She's really good at playing a bitch (and a do-gooder, she was always the best on Charmed). See Jawbreaker.

Its a christmas miracle, in February! But here's another pathetic poem. This one's inspired by the Drink Me bottle in Alice in Wonderland, and Cathy Ames (a fantastic literary sociopath!) from Steinbeck's East Of Eden (also a Pete Doherty song), where she kills herself with the vial of poison she wears around her neck ansd pretends it was the Drink Me bottle she has, that made her become smaller and smaller until she disapeared.

Drink Me
I see the world rushing by in kaleidoscope rises
Echoing my ever sounding fury
You rush by, but do you see me?
I’m disappearing with the dawn
I’m growing smaller with each stolen sip
Possessed by Drink Me
Until there’s nothing left
Under covers, I’m as small as a Gnat
There’s still a small drop in the bottle
I’ll leave it for another day, for my desperate respite
A final dizzying escape
I’ll be found in the morning my lips cold
Drink Me, fallen from my limpid hands
I wish for electricity, you to drink me in
Steal my gasping kerowing breath, not of this life
As I walked into the room today
I never thought I’d attempt to pacify, mollify my energies in a poem
But the drugs, they don’t work
And I’m screaming from my locked eyelids
Bleeding in, Bleeding Out
Going insane or the only sane on at the tea party?
But still the colouring wind whispers nonsense verses
And Drink Me beckons
I reach out, but still it’s too far away
Its barbed wire, cutting into satisfied, receiving skin
A delight, drinking in with all my senses, going overboard
But what do you expect, from a crazy girl,
Who writes poems for no one to read?
I want to wear wings and blue jeans
Dark curls and baby blues
And Drink Me
On my horizon
If I need it
One day
Someday...

So......

Ketchup or Catsup?

G'nite

-Miss Catch.

Based On A True Story....Love, War and Zombies

PRETTY POINTLESS, IF YOU ASK ME.......BUT WHATEVER



" Chaos was what killed the dinosaurs, darling "- J.D., Heathers

"I mean," she said, "that one can't help growing older." "One can't perhaps, "said Humpty Dumpty, "but two can. With proper assistance, you might have left off at seven."
-Lewis Carroll, Through The Looking Glass

"I cannot work in a house where there are alligators. I would have told you this before but I didn't suppose the question would ever come up."
-Dorothy Parker's maid

"This wallpaper and I are fighting a duel to the death. One of us has to go".
-Oscar Wilde's last words


"Faux Poes Foes"
-Kirk, Gilmore Girls


A few lines of the 5 page poem/concussion/late night delusion, I churned out in a trance last night:


GOLDFISH GIRL...
I Am A Goldfish Girl,
I Threw My Wretched Life Away.
In A Fishbowl, I`m On Display.
Naked In A Window Pane For All To See
Who Could Ever Love A Thing Like Me?

The real thing goes on and on about love and comdemnation, and politcal issues. It sucks, but it's just another thing I've tried to write that came out as a picture of me. It's really more vulgar than I thought my writting could be. Maybe I'll put it up here. I have no morals.

So....

a kink in my plans, But I didn't actually get to the store to get any Valentine's candy this year. Sad (wipes tear from eyes)...Well, I'll have extra mini eggs for Easter. Why are all these holidays linked to mass consumerism and teeth rotting and obesity causing goodness? And why is all they candy so good? (I Know That You Want The Candy- The Raveonettes)

In a strange twist of fate, I ended up celebrating Valentines, the day of love, by watching people die. Yay for horror movies!

First Boogeyman 3 (not horrible- some original deaths, a guy with an accent, and totally fake looking blood), then The Messengers (if the house wasn't haunted it'd be so pretty to live in, what with all the sunflowers), and later, The original campy The Hitcher from 1986 (a laugh riot comedy with overacting and mullets! I haven't laughed this hard since the Exorcist!), and the more horror movie 'serious' 2007 remake.

For some reason, the Kid in the 80's version loves saying his full name. I will never forget, What's his name again? (Jim Halsey, Jim Halsey, Jim Halsey).
For sure he'd show up at "Winston's Underage Booze Party"(From Cabin Fever)

There's even a moral to the story- 'always listen to your mother', evidenced as when he's letting the Hitchhiker into his car, he says "My mother told me to never do this." And rebel, that he is, of course he doesn't listen. Speaking of Mothers, remind me never to watch a horror movie with my mom again.The entire time, she's sitting there screaming Shoot Him, even when the bad guy rst appears and he hasn't shown that he's evil yet. Annoying, much?


But seriously, the original version does have something scary, on the remake. The original Hitcher, John Ryder (the bad guy) is fairly unremarkable in appearance (well, except for his piercing blue eyes), he could just be any old drunk guy who leers at you on the street, but is basically considered harmless. Right away, he doesn't seem scary, he seems like somebody you could know. So characteristic of a sociopath.

In the remake, John Ryder is played by one of those actors with an evil/intimidating face. You could just see him and be scared of him. But real life's not like this, the evil guys don't go out with stamps on thier forheads proclaiming their alliances, or intentions. Imagine a sign that said EVIL!

Sadly, we decide that some is good or evil purely based on appearance...It's sad how much we rely on our perceptions. It's cliche, but it's true. We like to judge the book by its cover.



" Interrogation Sergeant: What's your name? Come on. What's your name? Do you have a name? Do you have a police record? Where are you from?
John Ryder: Disneyland."

- 80's Hitcher



Why are people in horror movies so amazingly stupid? They're mostly late teenagers, or early adults, and I have to wonder, how did they ever live this long?

Here's some internet random's list of rules for surviving:

1. When it appears you have killed the monster, NEVER check to see if it's really dead.

2. Never read a book of demon summoning aloud, even as a joke.

3. Do not go search for something in the basement, especially if the power has just gone out.

4. If your children speak to you in Latin or any other language which they should not speak, or if they speak to you using a voice which is not their own, shoot them immediately. It will save you the grief in the long run. *NOTE* It will probably take several rounds to kill them, so be prepared.

5. When you have the benefit of numbers, NEVER pair off or go alone.

6. As a general rule, don't solve puzzles that open portals to Hell.

7. Never stand in, on, above, below, beside or anywhere near a grave, tomb, crypt, mausoleum or any other house of the dead.

8. If you are searching for something which caused a loud noise and you find out it's just the cat, leave the room immediatey if you value your life.


9. If appliances start operating by themselves, move out. Do not take *anything* from the dead.

10. If you find a town which looks deserted, it's probably for a good reason. Take the hint and stay away.

11. Do not fool around with recombinant DNA technology unless you're sure you know what you are doing.

12. If you're running away from the monster, expect to trip or fall down at least twice, more if you are of the female persuasion. Also note that despite the fact that you are running and the monster is merely shambling along, it's still moving fast enough to catch up with you.

13. If your companions suddenly begin to exhibit uncharacteristic behavior such as hissing, developing a fascination with blood, glowing eyes, foaming at the mouth and increasing hairiness, get away from them as fast as possible.

14. Stay away from certain geographical locations. Such as: Amityville, Elm Street, Transylvania, Nilbog, the Bermuda Triangle or any small town in Maine.

15. If your car runs out of gas late at night, do not go to the nearby deserted looking house to call for help. Likewise if your car has broken down, and the only refuge for miles is that creepy old mansion/castle on the hill. Stay in the car.

16. Beware of strangers bearing tools such as chainsaws, staple guns, hedge trimmers, electric carving knives, lawnmowers, butane torches, smoldering irons, band saws or any device made from deceased companions.

17. Listen closely to the soundtrack and pay attention to the audience. They are usually far more intelligent than you could ever hope to be. Never listen to music that contains staccato shrieking violins.

18. If you are a woman, never strip and take a shower in slow motion.

19. Do not keep all your sharpened kitchen knives in one of those wooden block thingies on your worksurface.

20. The first woman to either lose or remove her clothing is dead meat. The guy with the testosterone overdose is also dead meat. Along with the guy that is always making jokes

21. When you are searching a house because you think there is something dangerous there, turn on the damn lights!

22. Never back out of one room into another without looking. It's always behind you.

23. If you are traveling with friends, never let any hitch hikers into the van with you. It'll be the worst (if not the last) day of your life.

24. Never babysit.There are enough babysitter-in-danger-thanks-to-a-stupid-killer flicks out there already. If you ARE stupid enough to babysit, never try on the mom's nightgown collection. You'll only end up showing more skin. Remember: Skin=Death.

25. If you are being chased, never lean against the wall when you think you lost him. He'll just pop through and kill you. Same goes for leaning against the window.

26. If you are at your Senior prom, and the school reject has just won prom queen, slowly back away and run for the exit. All hell is about to break loose.

27. SEX=DEATH

28. If you are a stoner among other stoners, be the quiet one or the lovable one. All the other stoners will be killed.

29. If the killer has stalked you over the phone lines, don't take a job as a phone counselor.

30. Never let someone hypnotize you at a party.

31. Stay away from sewers.

32. If you sense something is behind you, don't bother turning around to check. Just run.

33. If you are trying to escape the killer, sliding through the cat door in the electronic garage door will not help you any.

34. After you manage to kill the monster/killer, never sit beside it and cry. It will suddenly pop back up to finish the job.

35. Never go to camp or become a counselor. You'll be dead by the end of summer.

36. Never say "I'll be right back." You won't be back. End of story.

37. Don't ever do something just because someone dares you to.

38. If you ever visit some distant planet and find objects that look like eggs, LEAVE THEM ALONE!!! Then when one of your spaceship's crew members finds a hideous parasite attached to his body (as a result of breaking the previous rule), don't let him back on the ship. When a hideous alien menace is hunting you (as a result of breaking the previous two rules) NEVER wander off alone to hunt for the ship's cat.

39.If someone tells you to do or not to something (example: DON'T fall asleep, DON'T go out there, DON'T go look for the homicidal-chainsaw-wielding psychopath by yourself) by all means, LISTEN TO THEM!!

40. A small town's little summer celebration might sound like fun. But if you hear the locals say things like, "Why you're the guest of honor! We couldn't even have the barbecue with out you!", run like hell.

41. If you are trapped in a house surrounded by demons, making coffee will not help anyone.

42. Always be nice to the shy, quiet, unpopular girl in school.

43. Clowns never have, nor will they ever be helpful to hang around while in a horror movie. As harmless as the might seem, they WILL kill you once you let your guard down.

44. Never go back for anything you lost.

45. Avoid people with pointy teeh. Avoid people with lots of facial hair. Avoid people with pale complexions who sway and moan.

46. If the barber remarks on the "666" tattoo your kid has, abandon the kid and move to Irkutsk.

47. If you see a burly man wearing a hockey mask and toting a chainsaw, DO NOT stick around to see if he's with the Philadelphia Flyers.

48. Never buy your kid a toy that talks back.

49. Remember: Just say "NO" to human blood.

50.Never watch a horror movie while you're in a horror movie.

51.Never, under any circumstance, plan a camping trip that coincides with Friday the 13th.

52. Pigs blood is not now, nor has it ever been funny.

53. If the young girls of the neighborhood start singing songs about boogeymen while jumping rope, consider moving.

54. If you hit a man with a car in the middle of the night and try to roll him off of a dock, make sure that he is dead!

55. Never EVER play with any Ouijia board that you find in the basement of your newly bought, run-down house.

56. Never run into a deserted graveyard at night

57. If you are running away from the killer/monster, don't even try to start the car. It doesn't matter if the car is brand new, it won't start.

58. If running from the monster/killer, try to make the least amount of noise possible. Especially if you are female. Panting, crying and screaming is not going to help you hide any better.

59. For pete's sake...NEVER stick your hand down the garbage disposal. Especially if you just heard strange noises in your house or while sinister music is playing.

60. Don't marry a guy that has Satan Worshippers as friends. They will want you to birth the new Anti-Christ.

61. Never answer the phone when you are babysititng. Just get the hell out of there and leave the kids for dead.

62. If you think you see your girlfriend/boyfriend and they are wearing a mask, not talking, or conspicuously hiding their face, it's not them.

63. Don't be mean to the new kid. They will just end up killing you.

64. If you hear a strange noise coming from upstairs that sounds similar to, oh let's say a severed head falling to the floor, don't go trying to find out what it is.

65. Never touch something that just oozed out of a comet that landed near an abandoned farm house.

66. When battling zombies, always sever their head or shoot them in the brain. If you they still want to eat you after that, just surrender. There's no hope for you anyway.

67. Never wait until you NEED the gun to check and see if it's loaded.

68. If you have to stay out in the woods or at camp you're pretty much screwed. But at least you'll have a fighting chance in the cabin. Never EVER take the tent.

69. Never try to unmask the killer.

70. Never hide in a closet.

71. If you buried your child in a strange place and he came back as a demon, DON'T bury your wife in the same place.

72. If you find the mangled body of a friend, camping partner, janitor, or whom ever, don't stay and investigate. Run like hell.

73. Don't spend a lot of time in houses decorated with an excessive amount of medivel weaponry. It will be used eventually.

74. Do not make a documentary that requires you to hike through the woods while looking for a witch that leaves stick figures hanging in trees.

75. If you are going to the bathroom in a movie theatre and you think you hear a guy and a girl making out in the stall next to you, do not put your ear closer to the wall to listen.

76. If you see a short guy wearing green and wearing a shamrock hat, I wouldn't stick around to ask about his pot of gold.

77. Never transport the killer in an ambulance from one place to another. Even if they've been in a coma for 10 years, they'll wake up.

78. Never listen to strange voices on the telephone. Never say "Who's there?"

79. If your hand has been possesed by the Force of Evil, do NOT chop off your hand. Doing so will merely allow the disembodied hand the freedom to wreak havoc independent of your body. And now you have to spend the rest of the film trying to track it down

80. If you have a feeling you'll end up being chased by zombies during the night, remember to wear comfortable running shoes.

81. After babysitting, don't walk down any deserted streets with lots of trees and bushes, but no lights.

82. Always check the backseat of your car before you get in.

83. When running away from the killer/monster, NEVER run upstairs.

84. If you see someone who is within screaming distance while running from the killer/monster, for the love of god, SCREAM!!

85. If a giant shark is chasing your family, do not go swimming. Actually, stay away from the water, period.

86. If you are babysitting, don't let the kids play with the Chucky doll.

87. If one night you see a dark haired girl carrying around dolls with the eyes scratched out, back away slowly, then run like hell.

88. If you go to your school library and there are a lot of books having to do with vampires and demons...move away ASAP

89. If you are fleeing from a killer or supernatural being and you see a cop car, run right by it. There are three possible ways that things will turn out if you try to get the cops attention and none are good: A. The cop is already dead in some gruesome way that will cause you to scream and alert the killer/monster as to where you are. B. The cop will probably end up dead as he tries to help you, this will only distract the killer away from you for a few seconds, but chances are you will end up getting killed anyway. C. The supernatural being has assumed the form of a cop and just when you think you are safe...he will kill you.

90. If the locals say the camp is haunted, it probably is.

91. If people in your neighborhood have been disapearing and there's talk about a surge of any type of insect...move. Stuborn home owners always die.

92. When and if you fall while running and the killer/monster is near you, don't just sit there screaming like someone will hear you. Get up and RUN!!

93. Kill the Scientist. No matter what else you do, kill him off right away. They always want to study "it," or take "it" back to the corporate masters, or learn from "it" at the expense of comrades lives. Eggheads are always trying to understand the unknown, and get nearly everyone killed doing it. Get a clue, kill the guy with the pocket protector, he's going to sacrifice you anyway.

94. If the killer is after you and you somehow manage to knock him down, don't get up and run for help. Believe me, he will stay down much longer after you kick him a couple times.

95. If the killer/monster is dead, do not dig up his grave to try to do a final resurrection. He will only come back to life.

96. If you disobey the previous rule, don't try cutting off his head or anything cheap. Stick a grenade in his mouth and run for it.

97. If the killer is standing three feet in front of you, don't just stand there and scream while he comes running towards you. It may comes as a shock, but he DOES in fact want to kill you.

98. If you live in Maine and your hometown includes a clown driving a car he calls Christine with a large ,rabid St. Bernard in the backseat, while residing in an old, haunted hotel near a strange Pet Semetary and hangs out with teenage girls with telekenetic powers....you're pretty much screwed.

99. If you DO happen to get killed, make sure it's in a cheap low-budget gore-fest with no plot, so you can come back and kick ass, no explanation needed.

Got it? Ready to try your luck?

My horror movie connaisor friend and I maintain that we would survive any horror movie, because of our fully functioning brains.
But I don't know...


And for no reason: another quote that made me laugh to death
(don't cha love it?)


Two-Face: (resentfully) Poison Ivy.
Poison Ivy: It's been a long time, Harvey. You're still looking... halfway decent.
Two-Face: (glaring) Half of me wants to strangle you.
Poison Ivy: (smiling) And what does the other half want?
Two-Face: To hit you with a truck!
Poison Ivy: (aside to others, referring to Two-Face) We used to date.
Joker & Penguin: (catching her drift) Ahhhh...

- Almost Got 'Em

Thanks for tolerating the madness. I just couldn't resist!

Also doesn't the book cover picture at the top look freaking awesome?
ahhh......Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. I laughed for like half an hour.

The book I was named after, just one-uped itself to suit my tastes. Ha!
It's a matter of time, but I do always win.
Really, so far its been true.



So Here's the book desciption:
" Pride and Prejudice and Zombies features the original text of Jane Austen's beloved novel with all-new scenes of bone-crunching zombie action. As our story opens, a mysterious plague has fallen upon the quiet English village of Meryton—and the dead are returning to life! Feisty heroine Elizabeth Bennet is determined to wipe out the zombie menace, but she's soon distracted by the arrival of the haughty and arrogant Mr. Darcy. What ensues is a delightful comedy of manners with plenty of civilized sparring between the two young lovers—and even more violent sparring on the blood-soaked battlefield as Elizabeth wages war against hordes of flesh-eating undead. Complete with 20 illustrations in the style of C. E. Brock (the original illustrator of Pride and Prejudice), this insanely funny expanded edition will introduce Jane Austen's classic novel to new legions of fans".

I have got to have this! It might just be the ticket to redeeming myself to my name. because, I've been disillusioned as of late.


You know how some people can't stand parodies of things they like, because they take it personally and let it ruin the thing for them, I'm the opposite. A good parody can make me fall in love with something, I'd previously been fairly indifferent about.


Started to read Neil Gaiman's Smoke and Mirrors, a collection of dark and twisted fairy tales. Really why are fairy tales always just the best? Old or young, there's just something about them.
I love how Fairytales are so beauiful and off-kilter.
The glass slippers left on the ball room staircase, well there're mine.
The white rabbit running through the hills, well he's looking for me


Anyway....getting off track a bit, he describes the posession that is writting stories so perfectly, I had to include the quote here: "A few of them were written to amuse myself or, more precisely, to get an idea out of my head and pinned safely on paper; which is as good a reason to write as I know; releasing demons and letting them fly. Some stories began in idleness: fancies and curiosities that got out of hand."
Yes. This is what it is. But somehow, my own words just can't describe it for myself.

Books...like TV...Only more thinking.
We're sorely lacking.



I got a kick out of the Fanboys trailer on my Mac's trailer gallery, which at the end does what I wish every trailer did, it tells us where we know the people from. Featuring: The warehouse guy from The Office, The guy from Tropic Thunder, The guy from Diehard 4, The hot chick from Sin City, and... Captain James T. Kirk.

Ha. That's so cute.
Ahh, Fanboys. They can just be so much fun.

This week, I finally bought an Ugly Doll. I've loved them for years, and I finally decide to buy one. He's soft, big eyed and a pretty blue, and apparently his name is Big Toe. According to the little write-up on his tag, he's a bit of a planner and an eater.
I've got to get more. Ugly may just be the new cute.

Life is just superb at the moment. I'm starting to find english class, pretty boring and pointless, but I found the golden ticket, I made out of a Caramilk wrapper (drawings) when I was bored on a saturday at work. I remember, I made four others for the people sitting around me who had chocolate bars (I love you Halton Regional Building venting machines), but then I would make any more. If there's too many out there, it's not special.

And I'm in a good mood now.


On a bad note, I finally found the copy of Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind, that I owe the library like 5o dollars in fines on. I'll have to take it back and own up to my debt. My room is such a fucking mess, its like a blackhole that sucks everything into a pit of nothingness.Seriously, I buy things, I put them down for one minute and they disapear.

Really, Its the entire house. Here, a triumph is finding that theres actually butter in the butter container, not leftover spagetti.
And really, its getting to be a miracle if i sleep at all, much less before midnight

God, I need some new music! Any ideas? I'm open to pretty much anything, and I'll spread the word. If I like it.

I am so in love with my platform strawish shoes. I do so love my shoes. It' s almost like a complusion or an addiction.
My name is Catcher and I'm a shoe addict.


Now i have an other school week tommorrow, which will seen longer because tommorrow will feel like monday, etc. For the whole week. And then another glorious weekend, baby!


Grad photos on Wednesday. Argh! I hate having photos done. I just can't ever take a good picture, unless I'm taking it of myself. I'm not particularily ugly or anything (I don't think...) but in front of the camera, my face just screws itself up.
It's a very strange, very particular talent I have.
Useless talent # 34- I'm just waiting for it to come in handy.

With Zombies?


My evil sister basically spent the entire weekend picking fights with me. And then we both get blamed, my Dad telling us we both need to own up to our parts, going on with the old sickening addiage, it takes two to tango. It makes me want to tear my hair out! Because it doesn't. Someone can come up to you and for no reason start beating you up, someone can start calling you names, someone can make your living hell life a real living hell, without you lifting a finger.

It doesn't take "two to tango", I've been tangoing fine on my own.

You don't say?
Run Like You Hear The Blue Danube Waltz
Be the hero, never the victim. Just make the jump!
-Catcher
I'm a paper doll.
Dreaming of a Thousand Skies and a Thousand Perfect Suns.

Good Morning Darlings.
Its a Strange New World, Today.

I'll Buy You A Goldfish!

"When did the future switch from being a promise, to being a threat?'- Invisible Monsters


Water, Water everywhere and not a drop to drink.



I fucking hate Sundays.

In the week, its always the day I dread. Either the beginning or the end.

The beginning of a week of schedules and work robbing me of time to think, ot the ending of an all to brief taste of freedom. Its when I realize I'm wasting my life, with nothing to show for each day, by scribblings or work agendas covered in song lyrics and sketches.

They feel lazy and depressing and grey, the house feels empty and I listen to melancholic music (this weekend, I'm on Nico) and stare at my face in the mirror, full of mourning for myself. On Sundays, even the brightest lights cannot chase the grey away, over coming the grasping light, smothering it out like a candle, the last drop of saniety in the darkness, or perverting the self-imposed darkness,, with ashen haze.
On Sundays, I just want to cry, for no reason. My eyes are suddenly both wet and dry. And by nightfall, I dread that I have to live another week, until the next Sunday.

I wake up this morning, and my first thought is aging.

I am Dying.

I am dying more each day, and so are you.
My thousands of cells are living, growing, mating and dying, full lives that I haven't shared, and I'm getting older. Each minute, each second, I am aging. Changing ever so slightly.

One day I will wake up old, and not recognize the face in the mirror's glass. I'll cry, weep for my lost youth, the time when all I could hope for was getting older.

And one day, I won't wake up at all.


Today, in my throes of Sunday misery, I put on a somber expression. I let my tangled hair down obscuring my face, and the weary hollows under my tired eyes, the creases in my forehead, and my cupid lips. And I cover it all, the entire mess of baby face and cheeks in tape, watching it in the bathroom mirror.
I stare.
But the face doesn't suddenly become beautiful, doesn't suddenly turn ugly.
It just hovers behind a mask.
Should I just give over to masks?
Disguise my middle of the road face, obscure and aging for each new day?

I peel away the tape in strips, struck with white remenants of my dead skin, then I rip harshly and pretend I'm ripping away the skin, and freeing my spirit from its fleshy cage.

For the life of me, I couldn't tell you what posessed me to do this. I just did.

I feel like the Girl Who Has Everything. I have everything I need and more, and almost everything I could ever want. I have plenty of knowlege, plenty of talents, and
But no love. I many not love anyone. I may never have.

I feel like I'm complaining about nothing. But love is just so important to me, without it I feel empty and powerless. Emptiness is fully consumbing, on its own. I think most of my problems could easily be solved by a man, but I would seriously pity whoever could love me.

I may love you, but you'd never be mine to love. I cannot take you from someone else.
I am not a person.
I am not a lover.
I do not live.
Surely if someone wishes to loves me, if they only could
It would only bring them pain and sadness.
I am a curse, masquerading as a human being
I am the poison that fills the air
I am the virus infecting your blood
I do so want to love, but it abandons me.
Leaves me with only my pathetic self, writing these pathetic, pretentious thoughts, as if I actually had introspection, as if I actually had a brain.

I call myself a Winter girl, and love the snow to an unbelivable point, but this year it's so cold, so miserable, that I'm yearning for the spring. In a flash of thought at work yesterday, I churned out an poem, my notebook clasped to me, swiveling my swivel chair, while I'm supposed to be listening to my boss talk about planning events for the months up until June.
But it's too depressing to think about it, because if its June, that means I'm gone.
This phase of my life is over, and I haven't accomplished anything.

You hear about all these geniuses and heros, who win prizes, start charities and are on a course to save the world.
I'm seventeen, and what have I done?

Just this:

Daisy Chains
The sun is a liquid lover
The spring paints the fresh air with scent
Spotlights me in sunstroking haze
I've walked the roads barefoot
Parched
Passed over long ago
My broken toes, struck grassy knolls
The trees weep for secrets
Without mouths they cannot share
I'm melting to liquid
The dew stroking the ground
Where the poison flowers once grew
I lie in sunbeams
Radiant at dawn
Braiding thoughts through my hair
Pluck a lonely daisy, clinging to the ground
The child bride's bouquet
Grown into silken white
Daisy chains to bind
Shroud in table cloth veils, true love waits across
I'm bound with pretty chains
Flowering my eternal spring
Purifying spirited thoughts
Silver flashing dreams
Lazily, I'm stuck in childish thoughts
Refusing to grow, to change
And allowing my poor plucked daisies no options
I can choose to keep them forever new
Held to my dizzying heart
And distilled of theier grandour
I'm still on the dust bowl
The school yard, stuck between chalk box lines
Riding out the storm
I'm living a new life, but the past still owns me
Creates me
And like the daisy petals, I'm not free to fly
Pluck
He loves me
Pluck
He loves me not
I watch the cobwebs grow through endless winters
My loves, My unions
Grow old and turn practical
Withering
Can I just keep my wonder?
The spring,
The rush of my now plucked thought
The daisies I dream


I still do nothing.
Nothing. I've spent most of my years reading about other people having adventures.

I am in love with INVISIBLE MONSTERS.
It's by Chuck Palahniuk, who also wrote Fight Club, and it's spectacular.
All about the costs of beauty, the invisibility our society, so afraid of offending others, gives to disfigurement, wondering where love went and creating a future out of the ruins of the past.

Its so packed with social critcisms also, sprinkled all over the pages, that seem to echo my every passing thought, every condemnation I've ever had about the world I inhabit and never told anyone.

I can understand invisibilty. I do this thing now, where I stare off in space, as if deep in thought or pretending to read and listen to other people's conversations. Learn about them, while they know nothing of me, because I've never shared myself.
Sometimes, I'm just doing nothing but sitting there, clearly listening, and people look at me, the quiet girl, think I'm no threat, and have personal conversations right in front of me, as if I'm not even there.
They don't give me much hope. I've learned that so many people I know, so many people I profane to love, are really two faced. I learn who secretly hates their friends, who laughs at their boyfriend behind his back, who gossips about his girlfriend and thinks she's only good for one thing. I know that even those who are loved, are really alone.

It disgusts me.
I'm sincere.
When I hate someone, I don't pretend to love them, or make them part of my life. When I think something someone I know made sucks, I just say nothing. I'm too polite to criticize, but I'm too far gone to pretend.

I know so many of their secrets, its as if they make my own all right.


"I love Seth Thomas, so much I have to destroy him. I overcompensate by worshipping the queen supreme. Seth will never love me. No one will ever love me again."
"Brandy is waiting to take the card and read it out loud. Brandy's waiting to read my worst fears to the world, but I don't give her the card. I kiss it myself, with the lips I don't have and let the wind take it out of my hand. The card flies up, up, up to the stars, and then falls down to land in the suicide net."
- also from Invisible Monsters


Pathetically, this almost describes how I feel. But I want to be the card, floating, just floating. With no thoughts of wasted lives, or wasted weekends.

I get so frustrated by those guys who whine on and on about never having girls be interested in them, about never being loved, about being lonely.
And I want to scream, I'm right here! Notice me!

I wonder if I would frustrate them with my own whining.
Maybe we should just get together, just try each other and see where we end up.
What we end up with.
Maybe we'd have something.



"Elope with me Miss Private and we'll sail around the world
I will be your Ferdinand and you my wayward girl
How many nights of talking in hotel rooms can you take?
How many nights of limping round on pagan holidays?
Oh elope with me in private and we'll set something ablaze
A trail for the devil to erase "

- Piazza, New York Catcher, Belle and Sebastian





"Was she told when she was young that pain would lead to pleasure?
Did she understand it when they said
That a man must break his back to earn his day of leisure?
Will she still believe it when he's dead?

-Girl, The Beatles

“I thought it was a nice name! And a nice dress!”
She protested with a little pout, folding her arms across her chest.
He tsked.
“Of course you did. It wouldn’t have been half as funny if you didn’t. "

- Catcher in the back field,
Gazing at the stars and not the game.

Such A Pretty Little Girl...

Previously, I've agonized over whether or not I am a good writer, whether or not people will consider me a good writer, but really, all that really does matter in whether I consider myself a writer at all...And I do. I'm still young, inexperienced to much of the world, but there's no denying that I have a voice. Not profound, gonzo voice of a generation, by any stretch of the imagination, but its something. The writing I admire, the writing that inspires me to create my own, fill pages with thoughts beautiful and ugly and above all mine, came out of living, meeting people seeing new things, and experimenting in all senses of the word, and I wonder if I'll ever get my chance, and I wonder.... if I get it, will I take it?

I keep saying, reassuring myself that my real life will begin when I get out here, get onto the boat, but that's what I say about everything, and anything. I say things will
And even now, I look around and see that everyone around me is living, living now.
Am I dead?

No..I'm the living Dead, I'm the life in death. I remind myself of grade eleven english class, these days:

" Her lips were red,
her looks were free,
Her locks were yellow as gold :
Her skin was as white as leprosy,
The Night-mare Life-In-Death was she,
Who thicks man's blood with cold."

- Rime of The Ancient Mariner

Writer's Craft, I can already tell, may redemn me to myself. The all to familar magic of putting a pen to the blank expanse of page, and filling it with myself, painting in with my heart, and watching something so plain, so full of possibility, became my own. Friday Free Writing, crafting a story from a photograph sent me through a story of quiet desperation, of unlived lives, that took on a life of its own, ending up with a business man throwing his desk chair out the office window and stealing a convertible.
Why?
Because I made him my own personal Pete Best.

And I remembered, how much writing, can be a journey, letting you see and create new worlds and new people. I go into a trance, where I'm no longer me, and not a character ever, I slip out of my skin, out of my mind, and cease to be. When I'm no one, I can see the others.
I lose track of time, or rather, time stop existing, and suddenly my clock goes off, and I realize I've written through yet another night.
Been a slave to words.

Suddenly I just want to write. Be daisy chained to my (handy dandy) notebook.
Wake me up when the summer starts....I'd set my alarm, but it's not the most reliable.

But all it really takes to set me off, even when I'm reading, make me stare at a page until it becomes meaningless, reading it over and over again, is a pretty word.

I'm obsessed, collecting words like my father and his boxes of Batman comics, or my sister and her TNA sweaters, or my mother and her Vogues.
We all have things we want to own everything of, and I want pretty words.
Or I want them to own me.
Doesn't matter.

Doesn't matter want they mean, where they came from, what they're connected to, just that they sound rich and decadent and paint pictures in the air, tapestries behind my itching eyelids.

Sometimes, a new one rushes over me and I need to scribble it down. No matter what I'm doing, it hammered at my skull not letting me find peace until I commit to the paper. Ideas find me this way too, and sometimes it's like torture.
Sometimes I wish for Writer's Block.

But I've read to much, seen to many movies, and TV shows, to make the wish in waking hours.
We always seem punished by wishes, burned by desires.
They turn on us, casting shadows of regret. But it doesn't stop the wishing.
Maybe one day, I'll yearn for the time when the stories, the words wouldn't leave me alone.
Or for better ideas.

PRETTY (such a simple, overused word, but it's the right word):

She Let Her Downfall In The Front Door

Poetry, Captivating, Mischief, Wicked, Stained, Illusions, Deceptions, Mirages, Mystical, Lotion, Cresendo, Sexual, Glint, Illcit, Illustrious, Deceit, Deficit, Otherworldly, Blood, Silk, Venom, Flash, Journey, Baby Doll, Music Box, Unicorn, Ingenue, Bleach, Sunstroke, Caress, Air, Kissed, Dark, Rosebud, Promise, Glimmer, Patent, Ash, Debutant, Ostrich, Quicksilver, Petal, Collapse, Cold, Moonlight, Lover, Turmoil, Romanticism, Ballet, Ambrosia, Fin De Siecle, Winter, Legend, Carving, Glide, Bygone, Century, Starfires, Flame, Rosary, Tattoo, Astronomy, Once, Lilting, Still, Cape, Coupe D'etat, Alchemy, Faded, Fly, Mortality, Liquid, Sunshine, Dance, Birkin, View, Snow, Strange, Kitten, Bouffant, Magic Marker, Flight, Silence, Bohemia, Doorway, Nom De Plume, Madness, Memory, Ribbon, Butterfly, Fluidity, Picturesque, Quiver, Perfumery, Avalon, Travelogue, Venue, Truth, Whimsy, En Vin Veritas, Echo, Pinnacle, Serenity, Serendipity, Betrothal, Frozen, Lock, Lush, Ceremony, Minuet, Waltz, Paint, Pain, Verity, Blending, Death, Documentary, Devoted, Secret, Spinning, Shell, Satchel, Wanderlust, Mace, Lost, Scribbling, Renaissance, Velvet, Midnight, Opaque, Onyx, Nylons, Reflex, Sickly, Sweet, Vampirism, Transformation, Impale, Sustain, Marble, Raven, Ravish, Foe, Cul-de-sac, Glamourous, Airplane, Whet, Lips, Cure, Sight, Temptation, Famished, Ravenous, Buckle, Tender, Opera House, Lullaby, Underside, Breathtaking, Cliffside, Danger, Thirst, Wheat, Libretto, Backstage, Paranoia, Devour, Teeth, Love, Saga, Synopsis, Hereafter, String, Ageless, Eternal, Youth, Immortality, Windblown, Grand Piano, Culture, Decollete, Paperwhite, Roman Candles, Mill, Floss, Mad, Teacup, Oppulence, Explosion, Reaction, Orange Crush, Riveting, Moon, Dance, Golden, Chaos, Climax, Dawn, Tension, Garnet, Lust, Luscious, Baguette, Affair, Touch, Wild, Autumn, Silver, Slumber, Personal, Raw, Paradise, Vulture, Garter, Kneesocks, Wilderness, Lock, Heart, Gentle, Eternal, Ethereal, Celestial, Stille, 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Falling, Alive, Treat, Only, Epiphany, Murmur, Sweatheart, Eternia, Dreamer


I like too many words.
Someone PLEASE save me from myself!
Word Addicts Anonymous (WAA).
Zydrate's the only cure.

If I was the only one left, I'd stop in my tracks. I wouldn't be able to laugh or cry, just sit, in the middle of the sidewalk, pick up a pen and write my own Book of Dreams, for City Lights.

The Writing On The Wall:
Here's the first poem I ever wrote, for your laughing pleasure:

Advice For When Your Older

You Believe that the fate of the world is
Love, laugh, amusement
You live on top, past all the real, painful , sad stuff
Dreams pass, do you hear the silence?
Stop fighting it!
Share major wealth
Love something sweet
Got pain?
Want less?
Spill a personal fear
List a dream
It's a must-have
Reach your mark and cry:
"Look I am special!"

(really much ado about nothing, at all, but whatever.)

I'm older now, and I feel like my ten year old self wrote the poem for me. Maybe I should just toughen up my all-too sensitive skin, wear steel toed boots and not let the world get to me. Take my own advice, a spill my 200 odd secrets, get my head out of the clouds where only the angels fuck, and on the ground, where I actually exist (in theory...).
But who really wants to sit and listen to the ramblings of a mad (crazy) girl?

Now I still here, still wearing my lucky necklace from grade six (from when I made my first cast list), poised to graduate from high school, confirmed to be moving at least four hours away from everything I've ever know in a few short months.
Now I'm thinking about this,
the future so empty and ready for me to shape it, and I can't stop mulling over the past.
But the past, present and future, just blend together for me, before my dancing eyes, until I can't tell what has already happened and what I've only dreamt of.
It's very Little Edie.

But there's nothing you can do with regret. You can't ever go back, can't ever fix things, as hard as you try, it's only grasping at pastel coloured straws, until they slip from my bitten fingers. No matter how much the past haunts you, there's no flux capacitor for me, and I'll never rule the morlocks.

But I digress, I'm only seventeen. I don't know why I'm so flightly and carefree one minute, and analying my life, like it's full of tradgedy or torment.
I've never really been hurt
I've never really loved
I've never really been rejected
I've never really let myself free, from the limits I impose on myself, my worst jailer.

So really, the only question is "Why So Serious?"
(really you should get a glascow smile if you don't get this one, at least!)

I've come so far, but I've never gotten home. I'm one of those girls who would take the wheel and drive out into the night, hypnotized by the full moon, driving until I fit a home.
I'm Holly Golightly tonight. Not the one, the party girl Audrey Hepburn played in the movie, but the erratic, dreamer callgirl from Truman Capote's original novella, still an undomesticated wild thing who doesn't understand how to live.

Holly Golightly: You know those days when you get the mean reds?
Fred: The mean reds, you mean like the blues?
Holly Golightly: No. The blues are because you're getting fat and maybe it's been raining too long, you're just sad that's all. The mean reds are horrible. Suddenly you're afraid and you don't know what you're afraid of. Do you ever get that feeling?
Fred: Sure.
Holly Golightly: Well, when I get it the only thing that does any good is to jump in a cab and go to Tiffany's. Calms me down right away. The quietness and the proud look of it; nothing very bad could happen to you there. If I could find a real-life place that'd make me feel like Tiffany's, then -then I'd buy some furniture and give the cat a name!

-Breakfast At Tiffany's

I feel like this when it's snowing, but you can't just like in the snow and not expect to freeze. I might really be the no name slob, the cat who needs to be taken in, taken care of, and hibernate by the fire.

Fuck 'em if they can't take a joke

Dream Catcher,

Dreaming of You

Dreaming of Me....

Doomed