An Old Post I Never Got Around To Posting

Finally, the blog you have all been waiting for! Okay. Maybe not. Maybe the blog I've been waiting for. I still can't find my camera, but I was able to borrow my sisters (thanks Sonshine!) so here is the blog I tried to write ages ago:

Yesterday I went shopping! I bought some shirts:

Notice the buttons. I have only recently started buying shirts with buttons because at twenty I am feeling a great need to feel professional, even though I am a dork. When I was younger you never would have seen me wearing button up shirts, being the tomboy-play-in-the-mud type of person that I was. Button-up shirts were for wusses, or for my sisters. Seriously, my one sister just looks cute in everything. (You know who you are, Oombah.) The other one could wear a plastic bag and a paint bucket on her head and she would somehow look fantastic, stylish, and professional.

Only my sis is... Not quite as stuck looking.

Anyway, so I bought these button up shirts feeling all very grown up. But then I went to Borders, because Borders is amazing, and because my cute sister works there. Then I tried to shop around and give all of the other books a fair chance, but for reals, I am way too picky and biased. (Though I did find a book called Night Runner that I must read now.) So I ran over to the one book that I wanted. The one book which was the sole reason for my bookstore visit. (I must have sole reasons or I’ll start buying stacks and stacks of books.)

Captivate, by Carrie Jones. Her first one, Need, just grabbed me by the collar and placed me in cold, frigid, Maine without asking my permissions. The second one did the same thing. Here I am, minding my own business, and suddenly swoop I’m inside the book. I just love her voice. She sounds like me with caffeine. Only in a good way. Like, a super nice way, because she is a super nice person.

And now that I have found a camera I will stop being a lazy boring person and post up the pictures of something I have been waiting for:

Hoorah!

No, not my face, the writer's gloves. They are made by Rachele and are as sweet as pumkin pie. I have been toting them around everywhere like the dork I am, because I absolutely love them. I cannot wait until her book gets published. I read a part of it that she posted on her blog and I almost cried. Me. Cry. I never cry. The first movie I cried at was Up, and the first book I cried at was Bridge to Terabithia. Seriously. This girl is good.

Oh. And don’t believe I’m a dork? Just look what I asked for Christmas?

Mango!

Yes. A mango. And it was delicious.

Journaling and Diary Entries

Nathan Bransford is having a contest where one must write a journal entry from the perspective of a teen. (Honestly, I have no idea how he's going to wade through everything and choose a winner. I know who I'd choose, but I can't find the entry now. The story was written from the perspective of a kid who has cancer, and he makes these paper airplanes, each one written with something he'll never be able to do, and the imagery was so startling, and haunting, and I went to bed last night and couldn't stop thinking about it, and now I can't even find his name (or her name) and tell them how amazing they are. Grr!)

Anyway, so I was reading over some and I love people, but some are just ridiculous. I mean, I know a whole lot of teens worry about getting pregnant, or getting over a stupid boyfriend/girlfriend. But so many of them all sound the same. Ergh. It makes me want to find some of these people and smack them upside the head for not being creative. But then I remember this is rude. And unfair. I've written tons of uncreative garbage/muck/nasty-trash-of-doom-and-despair. But there were also some really good ones that made me want to hunt them down and give them a hug for being FANTASTIC.

You are as fantastic as a blue chair.

So, anyway. I just love making fun of people. I make fun of everyone, so I don't really feel bad about it, because I also am nice to pretty much everyone. (Except to annoying customers who want to return something that they bought three years ago that is trashed beyond recognition except for recognizing that we NEVER SOLD IT LADY! but customers don't count.) In light of this making-fun-of sarcastic attitude I wanted to make a journal entry just to exaggerate. It came out differently than I expected, but ah well. It was super fun to do.

~~~

Dearest Diary,

You hold all of my hopes and dreams within your beautiful brittle pages. Sometimes, I think I shall not exist without you. Oh diary, the Cutest-Boy-In-the-Whole-World-That-Ever-Existed looked in my general direction today. Oh the ecstasies! I nearly catapulted myself over the kingdom wall this morning.

But then, just when I was feeling as glorious as the morning dew on the petals of the prettiest-flower-on-the-castle-grounds Kivellabellawella, the prettiest-girl-on-the-castle-grounds, went over to the Cutest-Boy-In-the-Whole-World-That-Ever-Existed and 'accidentally' dropped a bucket on her head, just so she could get his attention, and so that the Cutest-Boy-In-the-Whole-World-That-Ever-Existed could take notice of her and not me. I know Kivellabellawella is my best-friend-in-the-whole-kingdom, but really, why is she thin, and pretty, and blonde, and incredibly unintelligent? Cute boys always love girls just like that.

So now I must decide to hate life and be all angsty. Angst, angst, angst. I hate my life! I hate being the privileged daughter of the most-well-loved-and-respected-king-in-fifteen-kingdoms-and-two-continents. I hate the fact that I have a wonderful friend who is thin and attractive. And you know what else? My maid Eloie-the-rude-and-annoying asked me if I was pregnant. Just because I ate too much boar last night. No I'm not fat! Ahhhh.... I shall wail my eye out!! If only I could grow out a terribly-inconvenient-and-fake-beard and my life would be complete.

No one but you understands, dearest-diary-whom-I-love-and-adore-and-who-makes-life-worth-living-in-this-medieval-castle-of-suckiness.

Now I shall go find a bucket to douse my head with so that the Cutest-Boy-In-the-Whole-World-That-Ever-Existed will take notice of me and not my super-cute-best-friend-who-always-gets-everything-in-life-because-her-father-is-a-duke.

Love and kisses,

Cecily

~~~

Yes. Now you all can leave 'Yur an IDIUT' comments on my wall. But I sure enjoyed myself and my little romp into this blog-o-sphere.