Queen Anne

The Important Reveal

2012-01-28T13:37:00.000-05:00

In just four short months, at the end of May, I'm going to publish a novel.

A NOVEL.

And in fact, this very blog is going to be the command center for a celebration the likes of which has not been seen in many a year in this fine kingdom.
There shall be many festivities, including feasting and merrymaking, contests, lavish gifts and copious conversations. But as of now, I am in the planning, rushing around frenzied stage of things, so if you'd like something in particular, be sure to leave a comment.

More news later. Meanwhile, enjoy your weekend! And be sure to leave your thoughts in the comments!

SUSPENSE

2012-01-27T18:59:00.000-05:00

There will be a large and mysterious announcement tomorrow afternoon. Bring popcorn. Or maybe hot chocolate. But come, my friends, COME!

The Important Reveal shall be at 1:00 Eastern Time.

And you shall never, ever look at this blog the same way again.

3 reasons I'm going to be a Disney villianess

2012-01-20T21:56:00.000-05:00

I most remember Sleeping Beauty from my childhood, particularly
Maleficent and her raven, who she always called "my pet."
My tendency to call my puppy this is therefore quite alarming.
picture from iammaleficent.tumblr.com

I call my friends and pets alarming names: "sweet," "my pet," "love," "dear."
I have a disturbing lack of proper instincts. I let people slip and fall without even reaching out, I laugh at inopportune times, and I sometimes enjoy watching people pay for what I deem their wickedness.
I have a secretly violent side, a dislike for overly innocent and pretty people, and an intense desire to own a castle and rule a kingdom.

Hope you have a good weekend! Don't follow any glowing lights up any deserted towers, and I wouldn't advise any spinnning.

2012-01-18T23:45:00.001-05:00

I have done NOTHING
ALL DAY
AGAIN
I'm sorry, I wanted to make something pretty for you, but I couldn't.
I'll try again tomorrow.
I hope.

More interesting

2012-01-08T11:34:00.000-05:00

than this blog has been in a week:
Portmanteaux
See also: Verizon
More portmanteaux
See also: travel
Roman cursive
See also: vulgar comedy has gotten no worse and no better in 1800 years
Today's directive:
1. go to google maps.
2. type in "mordor"
3. "get directions"
4. from "the shire"
5. select "walking"
6. die of awesomeness (also, now I want to go to Chicago.)

Best Book Title, week 3: The Marshmallow Incident

2011-11-23T11:00:00.000-05:00

Warning: I wrote this after doing extensive work on college applications, because I needed a creative and floofy writing outlet. This post is powered by Mountain Dew and may be slightly nonsensical.

Before reading: OH MY! THE MARSHMALLOW INCIDENT! That's quite a dramatic title! I wonder what it could possibly be about. The fact that there is a knight on the cover makes this book 200% more interesting. 100% because knights are awesome, 100% because they are totally out of context, what with the marshmallows and everything. Let's get started on this thing. Oh, wait. Be right back.

Great. Got my ice-cold can of Mountain Dew.
Let's read ourselves some picture book.

Ooh! I'm quite impressed with the art so far. And the idea of right vs. left has all kinds of political and classical implications, but this is a picture book, so I'll try to forget about that for now. Doesn't look hard, with the clever art to get lost in.
Here's the Knights! This is beginning to get good. And I love the roasting of the marshmallows. This story is downright WHIMSICAL. I think we've got a winner, but I'm only like 1/3 of the way through, so it's really too soon to tell.
THERE ARE FLYING (spoilers removed)!!!!!!
Ah, this is what we like in a good satisfying picture book. The really good ending, with peace and happiness and marshmallows.
I love how the art gives a whole new dimension to this story. You get to know the characters. With a children's story, there's so seldom a chance to make individual characters, but Ron Barrett manages in this delightful read. Judi Barrett has done a smashing job with the story, which gives us just the right amount of gooey marshmallowey sweetness for this story.
Also, I could paper my bedroom with those endpapers. And then I'd dream of marshmallows...

Because Judi Barrett is a Scholastic author, she's a bit hard to find info on, but here's the best bio of hers.
Have a great week! Keep it sweet!
And eat a marshmallow, preferably while reading this book.
Yours,
Carrie

Teddy Bears

2011-11-20T22:44:00.001-05:00

I saw this lovely picture on facebook today, with the following caption:

Teddy Bears: Protecting innocent children from monsters-under-the-bed since 1902.

And while I'm not sure where the caption came from, the artwork is a beautiful piece called "sweet halloween dreams" by begemott on deviantart.com. I've browsed some more of begemott's work, and this is my other favorite:

This one's called "at the gates." I love the fae-like atmosphere of it.

I hope you have a wonderful, fantasy-filled week!
Love,
Carrie

Quality of NaNoWriMo writing

2011-11-20T13:00:00.001-05:00

Some days I write amazing stuff, the product of the fragment of my brain capable of producing interesting and original content.
Other days I write what appears to be teen romance and consider suicide as it is the only dignified option left to me.
Word count: too low.

Best Book Title, week 2: The Nutquacker

2011-11-19T00:30:00.001-05:00

Much apologies, as I forgot to post last weekend's winner of best book title.

TA DA!

Mary Jane Auch's The Nutquacker won BBT. Unfortunately the story was disappointing, as was the artwork, but I am always taken in by a clever alteration to a traditional title. (Pigmalion by Glenda Leznoff is a winner from long ago, before BBT was a feature on my blog.) Later today I return to the library, so look for another post mid-week, hopefully with a better story to go behind it.
Yours,
Carrie

Progress update: NaNo '11

2011-11-15T14:36:00.000-05:00

National Novel Writing Month is reaching up, itching beyond our necks. We're not drowning in it, though, we're swimming in it, delighting in the cool brush of words against our skin, diving to the bottom, holding our breath as we look for buried treasures among the metaphors and similies that glisten in the refracted light.
Surprises in my novel so far:

WELL. Didn't know you were going to be an apprentice mage, Gabe- or so very mean spirited. It'll come back to bite you, though.
Oh look! A giant raptor!
Hmm, so there's going to be dwarves in this story too?
Forrest! I didn't think you had it in you. You were always such a nice goatherd. Then again, if you're going to be mind-controlled, it's not your fault.
Handwriting is actually really fun, and a great way to fix "writer's block".

Are you doing NaNoWriMo? I'd love to be your writing buddy on the site, I'm CarrieAnne. Tell me all about your story.

And if you're not working on NaNo, what are you doing? Working great plans for world domination? Studying tirelessly to become the smartest person EVER?

Good luck on whatever endeavors you have!
(P.S.: I've updated the blog a little bit, poke around, see what you think.)

Of writing

2011-11-14T17:43:00.001-05:00

I think I am in love with the articles by this author on writing.

Speaking of farking moonbats: we’re moonbats because we need to be moonbats. I mean, really. To want to do this thing? To want to have this life? You gotta be a little bit — and by “little bit” I mean “project a massive crackling force field of” — crazy. Crazy is defense. Crazy is enlightenment. Crazy is the act of doing differently.

This is my favorite. (warning: profanity. Put on your big kid pants and go read the article.)

Best Book Title, week 1: King Hugo's Huge Ego

2011-11-01T16:17:00.000-04:00

This is a new feature I've been looking forward to starting for a while now. As you may know, I volunteer at my local library on Saturday mornings. I started in the children's section, shelving picture books, so that's where I've stayed, out of habit and an acquired taste for colorful art and whimsical characters.
Reshelving picture books is rather mechanical, so one of my games is to pick my favorite title. Some of them are so excellent that I simply want to share them with you.
This week's winner is King Hugo's Huge Ego, by Chris Van Dusen. I enjoy the playful cadence of the title, the way the words fit together. I couldn't stop saying it in my head as I finished shelving. This book is also beautifully illustrated and has a heart-warming story.

Mr. Van Dusen's website is here, where you'll find an interesting FAQ section and more of his delightful pictures.
Let me know what you think of this new feature in the comments, and have a good week!
Yours,
Carrie

National Novel Writing Month 2011

2011-10-28T11:31:00.000-04:00

I recently had a poll up on the sidebar about National Novel Writing Month, abbreviated NaNoWriMo. The only vote the poll has gotten so far is "what is NaNoWriMo"? So this post steps in to save the day.
National Novel Writing Month means writing one novel manuscript in the month of November. Said manuscript will be 50,000 words, whereupon contestant will have won. It is not a contest among writers, but for writers- you are competing only against your own limitations. Everyone who finishes is a winner, and is eligible for the prizes and goodies available.
I have completed the challenge twice, first in 2009, then in 2010. I am now preparing to again undertake the adventure. It is indeed an epic one, that is entirely rewarding and incredibly entertaining. It can at times be frustrating and difficult, but when you write your 49,999th and 50,000th words (THE END, of course:) at 11:30 on November 30th, there is no feeling quite like it.
And when you refine your manuscript and polish it (by this I mean beat it into submission) you will have a pretty little novel of your very own. Imagine putting your very own book upon your bookshelf, looking at its slender spine with your name slithering down.
So, if you're eager as well to take the plunge, to begin a journey unlike any other, here are some excellent resources for you:
The Official NaNoWriMo site is naturally the best resource. On its forums you will find wisdom and fellow writers, shared excitement and shared pain. My own profile is here, and I always welcome new writing buddies. (Note: the writing buddy feature isn't up yet, but it will be soon.)
This is a great post from the Sisters in Scribe blog, giving a set of basic instructions and helpful insight.
Another interesting page of tips is here from author Paul Carroll.
And from my own first NaNo experience, in 2009, my thoughts before and after.
Many more great tips can be found with a simple Google.
So are you going to come with me? We'll be in it together, and it'll be the best month so far.
See you in nanoland!

The Map

2011-10-20T14:34:00.000-04:00

I paged through my fantasy writing book, ready to leap into world creation. Armed only with office supplies and internet tips, I began: scissors formed an abstract first continent, then tore it into tinier pieces, which my fickle fingers moved around and around on a page. When they looked suitable, I traced them lightly with a pencil, rounding off corners and wearing away coastlines. Having practiced the formation of mountains and other landforms, I sprinkled them around the landscape in a way that made sense with the tectonic plates. I found the perfect name for each place, with help from a trusty Latin dictionary. My draft was complete.

God's fingers carefully shaped the continents, placing them lightly on the globe, careful not to brush off the mountain range that would one day give sanctuary to a whole city, or to make a chasm so deep and so firey that no race could live near it. He released the winds and currents to explore his newest creation. He already knew the adventures that would play out on its surface, and the whole history about to unfold.

Next I spread out my Mother's colored pencils on my floor, almost a hundred of them. I sorted them by number, getting to know the colors, the variations, the feel of them. Then I began. Hours of carefully shading a mountain here, a millhouse there. The gradient of the seas came gradually, by shading more than ten hues of blue into the large white holes. I learned to color trees, I learned how many shades of orange there are, and I learned patience.

Then God released the colors. He sent the firey shades into the southern lands, sequestering them deep into the chasm, and packing the Igneous Ridge so full that it would spew hot red and neon orange for years to come. He took the skies and stirred in the green of the earth for the turquoise of the ocean.

I titled each place, first with pencil, then with ink, carefully detailing the font and the location. As I recorded the towns, I imagined what they looked like, what races they held.

God let go, letting the lesser spirits take control as his new world fell into its comfortable orbit. Oh, and the humans. Heaven help the humans. He watched them name every single river, every town, every cave, every bridge just as he had foreseen. He loved watching them create, seeing a parallel to his own joy. He hated watching them destroy, but he could already see the beautiful wonders that would spring up to replace those torn down.

It was done, certainly, ready to be pressed away carefully. But that's not what maps are for. So I rolled it up and stuck it in my messenger bag, carrying it to school one day. I unrolled it on my desk, smiling uncontrollably, although my friends didn't even understand what I was showing them. And once our puppy stole it, carrying it off in her damp but gentle mouth. It was finally complete- no longer perfect, but worn in.

The explorers of the ages searched his planet and recorded it, each map a little better than the last. They wrote down every detail, knowing the folklore and mystery of each location. Sailors and buccaneers used nautical maps, generals and merchants sketched detailed land maps, apprentice mages slaved over maps of magical fields.

So, having shown you all a brief glimpse earlier, I decided to scan my map and present it to you.

This particular map was made around 1320 years after the great wars and destruction. It was made in Hylund and carried all the way south to Upton, suffering only a little on the journey, and is kept in the King's Councilroom, where it can be consulted when need be and remain secure when unneeded.

A thought on stories from G.K. Chesterton

2011-10-14T14:11:00.000-04:00

“This is also why the new novels die so quickly,and why the old fairy tales endure for ever. The old fairy tale makes the heroa normal human boy; it is his adventures that are startling; they startle himbecause he is normal. But in the modern psychological novel the hero isabnormal; the centre is not central. Hence the fiercest adventures fail toaffect him adequately, and the book is monotonous. You can make a story out ofa hero among dragons; but not out of a dragon among dragons. The fairy talediscusses what a sane man will do in a mad world. The sober realistic novel ofto-day discusses what an essential lunatic will do in a dull world.”
This is particularly relevant in the light of the approaching month of noveling. My National Novel Writing Month project is a fantasy novel this year. I have created a mad world and the next project is the characters. I'm going to try for a sane hero (a novelty for me) and his corresponding set of dragons.

Letter to my hero, Dan Boone:

2011-09-17T18:01:00.002-04:00

I’m going to get this out right now, because it’s kind of awkward: you’re fictional. But there’s more. I’m sure, especially since you’re bright enough to make it as a marine and as an FBI agent, that you know enough history to realize that you’re named after a famous explorer of America. It’s better than Johnny Appleseed, though, right? I mean, there are worse names I picked. You know George, that girl who wrote the fanfic that Christa stole? She legit had a neighbor named Mr. Rogers. See, the thing is, I not only wrote your story, but I wrote it within a month. So I wasn’t exactly putting boatloads of thought into you. Sounds pretty awful now, but let me tell you, you’re certainly my favorite character. I know you’re partial to Christa, but she has always seemed pretty shallow to me. Like, cardboard character thin. And then, there’s the whole stole-seven-bestselling-books-from-their-original-authors. That doesn’t really endear me to her.

But you, I like. You are very no-nonsense, but sometimes entertaining. Is that narcissistic, to tell my own character that? Also, I find you charmingly handsome. That’s another dangerous thing, but I’m far from alone in that. I’m sure there’s dozens of NaNo forum posts about accidentally liking your hero a bit too much.

But I have a problem with you. See, at the very end of the story, you (CENSORED FOR PEOPLE WHO HAVE NOT READ THE STORY) and I, along with several other readers who have read your story, find that entirely out of character. We spend all this time together earlier, establishing you as an upstanding yet likeable character, a hero who still gets angry sometimes, but then at the end you 180 degree it, as complete a turnaround as possible. I’d like to get your reasoning for that, so that I can make it sound better in the final draft.

Also, I called your story Plot Twists, because it’s really about Christa. I know it’s a lame title, though, so if you have any ideas, let me know. Thanks for letting me make you and write your life story. Ever indebted to you and all that.

Your author,

Carrie.

Alas,

2011-09-15T14:30:00.000-04:00

my hair is such that it cannot be dictated by the laws of physics nor subdued by the weaponry of cosmetics.
Also: new poll, see sidebar.

Update, despite the fear of the white box

2011-09-14T08:19:00.000-04:00

How many times this week have I clicked the lovely little "new post" button, eager to spill my innards to you once again, only to find myself staring at this empty white box with nothing to put in it?
(Trick question. A million is the answer.)
But today I'm determined to post for you. It was on my list yesterday [1] and I didn't get to it, so I figured, why not before school?
So lately, I've started school. Back to the old familiar grindstone, as it were, as I'm taking Calculus and Physics at the high school. Calculus is annoying, because it blends two classes from last year, one of which was honors. I was in the honors one, so we're still reviewing at three weeks into the school year.
Physics makes up for it, though. We have a good workload, and always interesting concepts to think of. Our teacher makes no effort to have us like him, but we do all the same, because he's funny and brilliant and entirely unapologetic for his character. Yesterday we were talking about falling, and vectors, and speed, and he made me an example. I played the role of the one who shot the AK-47, and a classmate was the one who fell from a height. He asked us where I would have to aim to shoot him in the heart. It was, as Physics always is, interesting.
My English and Latin classes started last week, as I take them from an online school which doesn't start until after Labor Day. English looks to be a great deal of fun, as we're studying modern literature in gigantic doses. As for Latin, we're translating the Aeneid. Just... yes. Should be challenging.
Have a good day! I'll be writing a few more posts, and scheduling them to go up throughout the week, so that'll be good.
Yours,
Carrie
[1] Actually, I'm making this into another post. I finally have ideas! Yay! You should be excited, eager, and a little scared.

Learning is FUN! And animated.

2011-09-08T20:13:00.001-04:00

When studying Dante for my English class, I came across this brilliant video. Enjoy!
The video abovementioned

Dante

ALTERRA and the SOUTHERN LANDS

2011-09-07T23:45:00.000-04:00

Second draft.

So this is a second draft for the fantasy fiction writing course I'm taking this fall. Needs color, and a little rearranging. What do you think so far?

Square dancing

2011-08-30T23:11:00.000-04:00

It's really not fair

2011-08-22T13:45:00.000-04:00

for me to judge other people for not updating when I so frequently do.
But I don't have much to say today, so here's a snippet.
I went to Seussical the Musical on Saturday with friends. In case you're not aware, it's a compilation of several of Seuss's stories under the general plot arc of Horton Hears a Who.
It came to my attention that Horton Hears a Who is a rousing endorsement of schizophrenia.

LISTEN to the little voices! DO what they say!

That is all.

Summer and tidbits

2011-08-17T21:41:00.000-04:00

Hello Bloglets!
My summer has been a tad busy since I last posted on here. I've been a junior counselor at a camp for three weeks. Following that, my sister was home for the weekend; while she was home, my dear friend from Michigan visited for a few days. During her stay, my 4-H project was judged at our county fair. After she'd been here four days, we left for our vacation in upper Michigan, dropping her off at home on the way. I returned home last Saturday, and had my wisdom teeth removed yesterday, Tuesday.
Three entirely unrelated points:
1. I look vaguely like a hamster with my cheeks swollen. You're welcome for that mental image.
2. Have some poetry I wrote:
My face, I don't mind it/ Because I'm behind it/ It's the people I meet that I scare
With features more frightening/ Than loud storms and lightning/ And let's not even mention my hair.
And an elvish drinking song:
Three little elflets, climbing a tree,
Trying to catch themselves a bumblebee.
Why do they do such a silly thing?
Catch something with wings and a painful sting?
Same reason we look for love, my friend,
Because the wings will soften the eventual end.
3. This is why I love Michigan:

Have a good day, and I'll probably post again tomorrow.
Love,
Carrie
P.S. New poll at the top of the sidebar.

Pillowcases

2011-06-16T16:48:00.005-04:00

Ever have that feeling, when you have one thing, then lose it, then find something else eerily similar, then find the original, that the world will end because you now have two? No?

Day the sixth

2011-06-09T18:05:00.056-04:00

Ah, Wednesday. Sweet, happy day that was Wednesday. It began with some work in my grandparents' garden. Sometimes adventures need not be large, or dramatic, or striking, like this particular agricultural one. I learned several things:

How to make an even row: Place stakes at either end of proposed row. Tie slender rope to both stakes. Take hoe with good corner (not worn rounded) and drag it through the dirt along the rope.
How to plant onions: Place baby onions (for lack of knowing their real name) in the row, beginning about 8-10 inches from the edge of the garden, and spacing them far enough apart to give them space to get big. This is usually 4-5 inches. Cover with dirt so that only the little green tip poking through the onionskin is visible above the ground.
How to plant beets: Place seed thinly in bottom of row, trying not to put it too close together. Cover lightly with dirt.
How to plant carrots: Sprinkle microscopic seed along bottom of row. Sprinkle an equally microscopic amount of dirt over top.
How to plant green beans: It really doesn't matter, because these things are ridiculously hearty. Plant 2-3 inches apart, eye down, in the row. Cover liberally with dirt.

Then I went to Target, where I discovered the miracles that are the mini cupcake maker and the mini doughnut maker. Adorable, no?
Upon returning home, I went on my final piano lesson. I gazed around me for perhaps the last time at the beautiful grand piano, the organ, the pleasant old upright, the filing cabinet and floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with music and desk all stuffed into that still artistic little studio. I wonder what I shall remember, in a decade or more, about my piano lessons. I have taken for eight or nine years, now, and am passable at piano, although I should greatly enjoy improving my improv abilities. There is a certain gentleman who plays for the annual showboat in a neighboring town, the sorority's variety show fundraiser. My grandma is in the sorority, so we typically attend. The pianist's stature is short, his back bent, and his hair white as snow- but when those fingers start to play, every foot is tapping, every mouth smiling. He plays with such passion and energy that the multiple lights on top of the piano sway, and his spread of music flutters. He is known to take off his fedora mid-song and catch it, without skipping a beat.
After my musical instruction, I popped over to the library, to meet the alleged new teen librarian. I was more than surprised to find that I had met her, this past November, at a NaNoWriMo meeting I was looking forward to when I wrote this post. I was also delighted to find one of my old friends there and meet several new ones. There was an epic paper football/ paper boat flinging war. I picked up a couple new books, Anna and the French Kiss and Across the Universe, both books that had been on my to-read list. I started Anna, and found it a sweet and entrancing romance. There was very little kissing, for the record.
When I returned home, following the evening meal, I powerwashed bricks for the front walk. It was very satisfying and very wet work. I showered and then read late into the night- because few adventures are as good as those we can take vicariously through books. Speaking of which, I'd better post this, because I have a NaNo to edit.
Yours,
Carrie

Days the second, third, fourth, and fifth

2011-06-08T22:23:00.069-04:00

2: The adventure of the library, as mentioned in the last narrative. I had a cookie. It was delicious. The day's adventures also included a trip to a bridal store to pick up a bridesmaid's dress for my sister. I have decided that I am not looking forward to the prom-dress-shopping-x-10 stress that comes with getting married, so I'll just elope, if I ever get married. It's a good thing I had these adventures, because later, I fell asleep and did not wake until the next day.
3: The day being Sunday, I woke and went to church, where the service was refreshing, if the atmosphere was warm. There was a delicious breakfast of sausage and doughnuts, and a productive meeting about summer Sunday School, as begins this coming weekend.
4: A 4-H meeting was the defining characteristic of this day, as most Mondays in the summertime. One adventure was the making of the pita bread, which came out well, to my surprise. It is not baked on a normal cookie sheet, but upon a wire rack on the bottom shelf of the oven. It rises to a delightful height, and most of the pitas had the defining hole in the center. Another adventure of the day, albeit a rather more sedentary one, was the perusal of a college magazine. It allowed my dreams to float into the realms of possibility and opportunity.
5: If my vacation so far were a medieval quest, this Tuesday would be the lost fight against the bigger opponent, the nursing of wounds, and the small happiness of a walk upon the parapet. I went to the dentist, and recieved the dire news that my wisdom teeth must come out. In a fit of irrational superstition, I fear that I shall lose a part of my intelligence, a part of my soul, if they are removed. Then again, each visit to the dentist's office is like the dementor's kiss- sucking your happiness out in an office of depressing beige walls, floor, and ceiling; quiet, optimistic, neverending music; those absolutely falsely happy and entirely too talkative hygenists, and the dentist himself. Oh, he is a piece, with his all too frightening optimism, considering the fact that he looks at teeth all day; his glasses with a light that may be used to see inside your mouth and may be used to slowly fry your brain, and his surgical mask, from which his undecipherable stream of dental abbreviations flows. "A-20 watch, 18, O watch, no, make that a OB watch. Keep 12 on an M watch." Yes, it sounds painless enough- but what does it actually mean? NO ONE KNOWS! I don't want them to win. I don't want them to have my wisdom teeth, or any of my teeth. They are my teeth, and I feel as if I ought to be able to do with them as I like, no matter the cost to my orthodontia. I would far rather have all of my teeth and a crooked smile than the artificial and oddly level shape of my teeth now.
I remember reading a snippet from a book a few days ago- I don't even remember which book, now. Maybe it was Collins' Hunger Games, maybe not. The narrator was describing a crowd in the summer heat, many of whom were earnestly trying to wipe the sweat from their brows- like they were "ashamed to be human," she put it, ashamed to be sweating in the heat. This resonated with me, not only because heat frequently causes me to perspire by the bucketful, but also because I am often ashamed to be human. I am afraid to be different, to be weak or odd or peculiar. The quest for perfection, however, is not one that I value, not one I want to pursue. If it had been up to me, perhaps I should never have had my orthodontia done. I do not know that it is truly valuable. I certainly got several negative things out of the experience, namely, an addition to a tooth merely so that my two front teeth would be even (for a cosmetic cause, really? I'm not ashamed to have uneven teeth), a dislike of big band elevator music (one too many repeats of that same cd, Dr. P), a retainer I am supposed to wear "into the third or fourth decade of life", and a small piece of wire soldered to my bottom four front teeth that has no foreseeable removal date. None of these things endears me to those who make their (absurdly large amounts of) money from looking (in frightening proximity) at my teeth.
The final adventure of day five, however, was far more satisfying. I perambulated my hound in eveningwear (I walked our dog Rory, in a skirt and tank top, because the weather is too sweltering for anything else). The startling gradient of the sky, including dark blue, lighter blue, purple, and a pleasant number of stars, was remarked upon. And the evening came to a close in a satisfying way.
I apologize for the entirely too negative tone of this post, and promise that the next one shall be happier.

Day the first: of little sleep and much Mountain Dew

2011-06-06T21:36:00.032-04:00

Finishing my school at ten to seven, I made myself almost socially presentable and leapt into the car. I picked up my excellent friend, Brenna, with whom I have had other adventures that also were short on sleep. After randomly dropping off two dollars to a certain friend of hers, we went home and prepared a grocery list. Raspberry cheese coffeecake was the mission, a lemon, a two liter of Mountain Dew, and some other things were necessary. Then we went to the grocery, sprinkled random musical serenades through the produce and baking aisles, and picked up our supplies for an evening of thrills. Or something.
Next we went to the playground across from the church, because you are never, ever too old to swing. You are always too old to teeter-totter- I think the things vile. They tempt you with a little joy, a little ride through the sky, and then it ends promptly as you hit the ground. Not to mention the horribly mature idea communicated by the relationship between the two riders- for every success in life, everytime someone travels up on the great teeter-totter of karma (or economics) someone else travels down, someone else hits the bottom.
But this was supposed to be an adventure post. So after we got home from the grocery/playground adventure, I made the coffeecake and Brenna entertained me. I think the coffeecake turned out so sweet not because it was baked with love (it wasn't- perhaps my romantic relationship with that coffeecake was mere disinterest) but because it was baked with mirth. As it rose, we watched the entertaining movie Tangled, all the while text communicating with a certain friend of ours, to whom a piece of coffeecake was rapidly promised. By the time all this was done, it was roughly two in the morning, and my Dew meter was somewhere in the vicinity of 3/4 of a liter. The computer sucked us in, as it always does, with its vacuum-like tendencies. At about three we had a coffeecake interlude, then proceeded to get ready for the Relay for Life. We walked from 4:00 to 5:00, stalked aforementioned friend to whom we'd promised coffeecake from 5 to 5:30, only to learn that she was still asleep. (Silly goose! If she'd had 1 1/4 liters of Mountain Dew, like I had at this point, she'd still be up!) So we returned to aforementioned playground, watched sun rise, returned to Relay, deposited coffeecake with her teammates, and I deposited Brenna safely at home. I showered and went to the library where I volunteer. Let me tell you, old Dewey and his decimal system can be quite challenging when sleep-deprived. Then had other normal Saturday things. That is all for day the first.

And so it begins.

2011-06-04T08:33:00.001-04:00

Yesterday, at approximately 7:10 PM, I finished my junior year of high school, polishing of a pesky bit of anatomy. There was a fetal pig, which now has a much harder job of keeping its internal organs inside. There were a bunch of microscope slides, which now suspect that they have been watched closely. Both of these things are my doing, and I am hardly apologetic, because this means only one thing for me- the beginning of summer.
This summer will be an extraordinary summer, because I have decided to have an adventure every single day. Yes, every single blooming day of the summer. (Word play with "blooming" and the whole spring season was entirely intended.) For there are surely dreary things to do as well, but what is summer for, if not adventuring? And what better place to chronicle it than here?
I cannot promise absolute truth in my writings. But I can hopefully promise some entertainment, and perhaps more so than I have provided for a long time.
The first post, detailing last night and this morning's activities, shall be up soon, perhaps as a chain of events, perhaps as a list, perhaps as an abstract drawing of a mouse. (Probably not that last one. I'm not good at drawing animals, even abstract ones, and to be able to have it convey the depth of meaning I'm intending- well, that's downright unlikely.)
Why, yes, I am sleep deprived and running on Mountain Dew. How kind of you to notice my odd statements and pecularly fast typing! All shall be revealed in good time, my dears. But the crucial mistake we must not make this summer is to allow the chronicling to get in the way of the adventuring, or the adventuring to get in the way of the chronicling.With that, I'm off to the library, and wish you all a pleasant morning.
Carrie

Grook on Long-Winded Authors

2011-06-01T15:39:00.000-04:00

"Long-winded writers I abhor, and glib, prolific chatters;
give me the ones who tear and gnaw
their hair and pens to tatters:
who find their writing such a chore
they only write what matters."
-Piet Hein, in Grooks

There are few things like the smell of newly cut grass

2011-05-29T20:16:00.000-04:00

which is currently permeating my clothing, hair, and skin, leaving that slightly grainy feel to my fingers.
Three classes done, three to finish up. I'll see you when I surface.
~ Carrie

Things I will do tomorrow

2011-05-24T21:26:00.000-04:00

Wake up (guaranteed)
Become presentable (with limited success)
Go to school (shifting jerkily all the while, because half awake isn't the best time to practice manual transmission)
Take English exam (and remember how much I have forgotten this year, and wish that I had not)
Walk home (doubtlessly regretting some part of my outfit for being too cold or too warm or too damp)
Work, sporadically and frantically, on history research paper
Attend piano lesson, breezily carefree because the recital is over
Write, because it's been far too long, and my characters miss me (hah! As if. I am so entirely cruel to my characters. They're glad I'm gone, and they're going to defend their boring, peaceful, happy, content plotlines with whatever weapons I had the lack of forethought to give them.)

Hope your tomorrow looks this fun!
~Carrie

Promenade 2011: By the Hour

2011-05-14T13:34:00.000-04:00

07 MAY 2011
1500: attempt to clean room. Nap. Shower.
1600: Pick up friend. Discover she is already ready and become depressed at own lack of preparation thus far. Take pictures of said friend looking pretty. Frantically get ready with mixed (but mostly bad) results.
1700: Take pictures. Proceed to hate said pictures for awful appearance in them. Depart for promenade venue, with conversation en route about how nervous friend is for 2 sentence speech. Comfort friend.
1800: Arrive at prom venue. Greet friends from precalc class who seem to appear surprised you exist outside of school. Awkwardly wait by the side while friend (on student council) guides guests to their seat. Greet other friends from school and try to get out of being in pictures by offering to take them.
1900: Eat dinner. Try not to get any food on your dress; succeed. In overconfidence at this victory, spill your water upon your dress. Try to surreptitiously pat it dry; discover that napkin has already been cleared from plate. Applaud after friend’s speech and powerpoint.
2000: Sit annoyedly through two simply awful renditions of country songs. They’re already country songs, I didn’t think they could get worse. THEY CAN. Be amazed at amount of skin contact in center of dance floor. Also be amazed at music choices. Dance awkwardly for a little while.
2100: Continue to rotate between sitting, dancing, and going out on the porch, all done awkwardly. Occasionally twirl in dress simply for 6 year old pleasure it provides.
2200: Be slightly repulsed by continued grinding on dance floor. Migrate to hallway; consume ice cream.
2300: Frustrated with everyone else’s possession of a date, ask the caterer to dance. Be refused because ‘they’re not allowed’ but also because you probably look like an out of breath fish at this point in the evening.

08 MAY 2011
0000: Sit in hallway and talk to friend. Watch school administrators pace back and forth from the dance floor to the door of the building, because they’re ready for prom to be over too.
0100: Finally leave prom venue after friend is exhausted and annoyed from cleaning up. Aquire freshman friend and her junior date, who is strangely talkative for this time of night. Arrive at hometown, drop of friend, stop at freshman friend’s date’s house so he can ostensibly “change his shoes.” Wait twenty minutes. Send freshman friend in after him. Find out he was seeking a belt.
0200: Arrive at afterprom. Consume large amounts of mountain dew. Meet new people who may or may not question your sanity. Debate going in the partially locked academic wing, decide as a group it may not be a good idea.
0300: Meet person you recognize from kindergarten. Be so tired that you tell him this. Be delighted that complete nonsense is socially acceptable to say at this time of night.
0400: Migrate outside as afterprom ends. Wait an excessively long time for the group to make a decision on where to go. Begin driving. Decide where to go when already halfway there. Be unperturbed by supernatural amounts of fog on highway.
0500: Arrive at IHOP, comfortably after the rush. Be waved at by neighboring table with others from afterprom, just as waiter is attempting to take order. Become unaccountedly amused that the booth’s seat is so incredibly BOUNCY. Depart IHOP, after the morning crowd begins to trickle in.
0600: Drop off freshman’s date, leaving only self and freshman. Drive home; collapse in bed.
0900: Wake up, 5 minutes before you must leave for church. Get to church on time; discover that you did not in fact have to teach Sunday School this morning.
1000: Make an adventure to Walmart and Kmart. Pick up Mother’s Day present. No need to rush into these things.
1100: Drop friend off at church. Return home, pretend for about ten minutes to be fully functional and awake, collapse and sleep until dinnertime.
Hope you enjoyed it, even though it was long.
Thanks for reading!
~Carrie

rain

2011-05-14T13:31:00.000-04:00

Maybe it's not in finding the beautiful, the pretty, the happy, the delightful, but in making it, and in seeing it in the ugly, the sad, and the lonely.
Because some people like rainy days. So maybe I can too.

Not how you're supposed to spend Easter

2011-04-25T20:28:00.001-04:00

It's been a week since my last post. Because I have nothing I would rather be doing while procrastinating, I'll try another one of these fictionalized real life thingymabobers.
~
I pace back and forth, arms folded tight to keep in the slender warmth my body gives out. Every now and then I look at the revolver on the table- black- so very starkly black, in this eerie, cold, natural light. The sulight almost shimmers into the room, filtered by the falling rain and casting uncertain shadows in every nook and cranny. My fingers itch towards the gun, and I stop in front of it, picking it up before I know what I'm doing. I feel the trigger under my pointer, and it surprises me- but in a good way. It's been far too long since I've felt that slender piece, so spring loaded, so ready, so obedient.
But I can't. I set the gun back down on the table and resume my pacing, trying not to look at it. This isn't how you're supposed to spend Easter. The windows draw my attention- through the rain I can see the patio, darkened by the shadow of the balcony above. Furniture forlornly crowds it- a thousand small, cold metal curliques, formed together into gently sloping armrests with peeling paint and arching backrests that have not felt flesh since fall. Stairs rise from this hillside patio, leading to the front of the house- and the vehicles. "Fear not the machines, but the people inside them"- a quote from some long forgotten sci-fi channel movie that fits oddly well into this impossible situation.
My ears perk at any trace of thunder, any irregularity in the pattern of rainfall- I mistake it for steps- I sieze the gun, duck below the window frame- wait fifteen intense seconds, twenty, sixty. No one, or I would hear the doorknob. I put the gun down. I return to pacing. No, this isn't how you're supposed to spend Easter, but nothing is how it is supposed to be, anymore.
~
Hope you enjoyed it- seems kind of pointless now I've written it, but I'd love to see what you guys think. Also, check the newest writing tab at the top- might put some new stuff up there today.
Happy late Easter! He is Risen! Alleluia!
~Carrie
P.S. New seasonal poll at top left for the really cool people. Also, decided to archive my polls by leaving them at the bottom of the sidebar, so if you want to see how any of them ended, they're there.

What I did today

2011-04-18T22:34:00.000-04:00

in the form of a list followed by a short, picturesque description.

went to English, and decided formally that I do not care one whit about whether or not Huck Finn matured as a character throughout the book.
walked home without a jacket in the lovely sunshine and breeze, to my delight.
played the piano for long enough to feel like I'm actually improving. First time in months.
studied anatomy and decided that humans have a lot of hormones.
ate the remainder of a Caesar chicken wrap from Bo Bevan's and a baked potato roughly the size of a volcano. The likeness was uncanny with a little barbeque sauce lava. Also, as I get farther along my Latin studies, I like Caesar flavoring more. Changing taste buds, or a lingering reminder of the Roman tendency to conquer everything they touch?
swam for forty five minutes in the chlorine saturated pool at the YMCA. Came home and wandered aimlessly from task to task for an hour because there is nothing like chlorine to make your eyes sting and itch.
yet again swore not to swim at the Y, instead to move to Michigan and swim several miles every morning in the thrillingly cold and delightfully unchemicaled Portage Lake.
did some other things too boring for a post.
wrapped myself in a turquoise carpet by grabbing it and rolling.*

The promised description:
You are on a horse. Just kidding. We're not Old Spice, here.
Anyway. For real this time. You're in a car, a sleek but gigantic black Impala. You're sliding down the road at a breezy 45 mph, windows halfway down and sun roof open. Perfectly polarized perscription sunglasses keep the sun from irritating you, and a tendril of hair tickles your neck. Ah, yes, you think- need we any more summer? Spring is perfectly enough for any reasonable person.
Cheerio, my friends.
~Carrie
*also, see "Most Fun Event of the Day**"
**there is no such thing. I just wanted to make a footnote.

Promenade 2011

2011-04-17T19:22:00.000-04:00

First of all, it would be so much better if they called them "promenades" instead of "proms."
Second, finding a dress is harder and longer than taking the ACTs.
Third, I extremely regret spending $40 on a ticket to an event I increasingly abhor attending.
Fourth, I want to crash prom. Elegantly, largely, beautifully. I want to take this cliche and awful trademark event of my highschool career and make it so awesome that they will debate about kicking me out.
But fifth, I cannot, because I am going with my good friend Disha, who is absolutely in love with the whole idea of prom. And I like Disha. She's a wonderful, beautiful, caring person, and also on student council and thus largely responsible for planning prom.
Next year, there will be an anti-prom. And it will be of literally epic proportions. It will be on the news and passed down from my children to their children. In the words of a famous musical heroine once played by Julie Andrews, "Just you wait, 'Enry 'Iggins, just you wait."
~Carrie

Standardized Tests

2011-04-09T14:38:00.001-04:00

This morning, April 9, thousands of school children all around the world (or maybe the country) sat in dimly lit classrooms with a vague sense of fear making them wonder about the wisdom of "eating a good breakfast", like the experts say, before a standardized test.* Specifically the ACT, a test commonly required for college applications. It occurred to me about an hour into the test (when I finally woke up) that this test could very well influence my acceptance to college, my major, and my entire future. It's probably a good thing I didn't get this thought earlier, or I would have been far more terrified for the test. As it was, I was far too busy with other things** to worry too much about the ACT, which was a good thing. A year ago last fall, I took the PSAT for the first time. With relatively little else on my mind the few days leading up to it, I was terrified. But I did pretty well on it, so ever since then, I've gone with these helpful hints to taking tests, and it seems to work fine:
1. Wear your most comfortable clothes. And probably not flip-flops; I've always wondered if thinking about how cold my feet are has cost me in the area of test scores. Today I wore boots and I am relatively confident in my answers as a result.
2. Eat a good breakfast. Or two gigantic oatmeal rasin cookies in bar form***. Both will work marvelously.
3. Bring four million pencils, approximately.
That's it. I'm really just repeating what you've already been told, hopefully in a slightly more entertaining way.
Have a nice weekend!
Yours,
Carrie
Here are some footnotes. I got the idea from this blog.
*And right now, sitting in front of a brightly lit computer, I am wondering about the wisdom of starting a post with a run on sentence so long you're dizzy. (psych! Did it again in the footnote.)
**Other things largely being the Wizard of Oz, which our high school is putting on. Since I'm taking two classes there this year, I got to help be stage crew. I had the very extremely important job of opening and closing the curtain. You might recieve a post with the most memorable quotes in it. *hint: you probably will.*
***These, commonly known as oatmeal bars in our house, are the energy food of champions. The oatmeal fills you up, the rasins and sugar keep you going. If you eat two at seven, you won't be hungry until two.

Vocabulary saga, ep. 3

2011-04-03T17:24:00.000-04:00

“What do you seek, kind Father?” Lizzy asked, compassion implicit in her voice.

“Food. The blight has struck my small garden and brought upon me a dearth heavier than I can bear.” The old friar held out his purse and opened it, revealing many gold coins, which he had accrued many years ago in his secular occupation.

“Brighton is nearby, we shall go there,” Lizzy replied, thinking of the least impious city in the region.

“Not Brighton,” Samson demurred. The odium that attended him in that fair city was enough to kill lesser men. For Brighton had been the scene of his ignominious deed, and a reappearance might very well cost him his life.

But Lizzy and the recluse had already started off on the path, and Samson followed, unsure why he was coming along. To one of his unsavory friends, he might say that he hoped the old Friar was prodigal with his plump purse; to the friar himself, he would claim some virile heroic desire to protect them. Whatever the reason, he clanked along behind them, his armor feeling painfully superfluous.

Samson surveyed the scattered mud huts and abundant dirty children and caustically remarked,“There is nothing like Brighton in springtime.”

A booming bass rolled out from the direction of the marketplace, words thick with colloquialisms: “Hushhup and go home, now, y'hear? There's nothin he's took that ya can't grow back in your garden tomorro', and with seed what's prolly stolen isself.”

Samson's back itched, as if the lacerations were fresh. He was just realizing that a confrontation with this particular person might be problematic, when an eight foot lump of rural muscle appeared from behind the tavern.

Samson grinned, in that mentally disturbed way that he had, as he locked eyes with his nemesis: Sheriff of Brighton.
~
Hopefully this will end soon, because it's not getting any better. Not that many vocab lists remain, though, so we'll see how it ends up.
Have a good day!
Yours,
Carrie

College

2011-04-02T18:31:00.000-04:00

As a junior, I started touring colleges this week. The whole process seems absurdly contrived because:
- you only come into contact with the people they want you to: the friendly and put-together admissions staff, the current student tour guide carefully selected for his/her excellent history with the college, and the "ambassador" you spend the night with who is rather absurdly social and popular.
- you recieve a ridiculous amount of college literature, from a twenty page book to a hundred page bulletin, along with several novellas of majors you can study and schedules and campus maps.
- you are largely unprepared to live independently, and have a hard time imagining what that might be like other than "glorious" and "summer camp"
- everyone looks so incredibly professional. You cannot possibly attend college here because all of the professors are busy with research yet have time to answer the questions of their Ensteinian students, all of the aforementioned students are impeccably dressed in addition to being so gosh darn smart, and the community of love and good intentions is enough to occupy the entire time you now spend awake each day. Heck, even the other high school students on the tour are cooler than you.
But the process is also delightful:
- they are unapologetically trying to court you.
- despite your obvious awkwardness and aforementioned unpreparedness, they still act as if you have valuable things to add to their conversation.
- free t-shirts. College t-shirts. So when you travel, you can pretend that you're a lot older and already go there. I'm absolutely convinced this is the only reason they give you free stuff- they hope you enjoy impersonating their students so much that you actually want to become one.
- college life does, as I mentioned before, appear to consist of independence, intense studying, and an amazing opportunity.
So on college visits this week, I learned:
- wear walking shoes. No, not just walking shoes: waterproof walking shoes. And bring an extra pair, because it will absolutely rain while you are there. An umbrella might be a good idea too, and definetly a sweatshirt/jacket/woolen eskimo coat made from the hides of a thousand wooly mammoths.
- ask open-ended questions. They want to talk, and you want to listen, so this works perfectly.
- ask what they like least about their college. It's usually quite interesting, and sometimes funny. Best answer so far: "the tuition."
- that I know very little about going to college, and thus very little about the whole process. On that note, I provide you this:
DISCLAIMER: I am pretentious in this post and pretend to know lots of things, but I've only toured two colleges, and thus know very little.
Have a good weekend!
Yours,
Carrie

The Vocabulary Saga, ep. 2

2011-03-27T13:23:00.000-04:00

Lizzy's first move was a light sidestep, avoiding impalement and getting the fight off to an auspicious start. The knight reigned in his horse at the other end of the clearing and shouted back to her, “A nice first move, but now I ken I have a lady to deal with. A wanton, improper lady, but a lady all the same.”
Lizzy was surprised; with her short hair and trousers, it was unusual for a stranger to fathom the truth so quickly. But he did not seem to intend to malign her. He silently dismounted and tethered his horse, feeling Lizzy's wary gaze boring into his back.

“You're one of those visionaries, aren't you? Rights for women and free the nuns, eh?”

His light, jesting manner was far from the censure she usually heard. But Lizzy couldn't help but wonder if he had ulterior motives when he took off his helm and gauntlets and sauntered towards her. He looked down at her, his expression more the servile visage of a hero than the improper, flirtatious glance of a rogue.

Just then, a man stumbled out of the underbrush, his woolen brown robe and papery skin showing him to be a hermit, a religious recluse. He stumbled along, half-limping, eyes cloudy, unfocused, and yet somehow deeply pensive.

“Unhand me, you covetous recreant,” he yelled at the saddlebag that had brushed his purse. Samson bit back a mischievous desire to burlesque the hermit, who was obviously blind as a bat. But Lizzy surged forward to help the old man, compassion making her willing to waive the discussion with the mysterious knight about visionary women.

~ not as good. As a matter of fact, rubbish, but oh well. Third installment will be up later this week, and it is slightly better. I'm also going to try the scheduled post thingy. We'll see.
Yours,
Carrie

Modern day Saul/Paul?

2011-03-07T21:06:00.000-05:00

http://www.wired.com/epicenter/2011/03/spam-king-robert-soloway/all/1
How willing are you to forgive someone for what they've done?
What constitutes evidence of repentence?
What does it take to forgive someone? Do they have to earn it?
What is the difference between forgiving and forgetting?
Happy Monday. Oh, new page up with a new short tidbit I wrote. A fictionalized version of my first time volunteering at the library. I swear it's more exciting than it sounds. Try up there under "latest writing".
You are loved.
Carrie

The Vocabulary Saga, ep. 1

2011-02-16T17:30:00.001-05:00

After turning in our 60 notecards and our bibliography cards for our research paper, our English class has experienced the happy return of vocabulary. Some of the words on our first list (like miscreant) were too good to pass up, so I gave in to the temptation to form them into the first installment of a vocabulary flash card serial.
Some words are vocabulary, and also links to definitions from some free online dictionary or other. This bit of prose is awful, and awkward, but limits of the system were enormous. No further ado. Here you are.
      When Lord Randolf was relegated from Steward of Tortall to manager of a small country estate, he moved with his family into the great rural unknown. Lord Randolf's deposition had a larger effect on his daughter, Lizzy, than anyone else. In the intoxicating atmosphere of the court, fifteen-year-old Elizabeth Randolf had been just another coy maiden converned only with her complexion and impending courtship. The healthful air and plentiful exercise of rural life modulated her behavior and priorities. She became filled with the rosy-cheeked effervescence so apealing in young girls- one of the best indicators of physical and mental health. But a fervid passion arose within her as she learned about the plight of the kingdom's serfs, now her dear companions. Unfair seizure of their lands, overtaxation, and conscription that she witnessed strengthened her romantic ideology- she would do anything to bring out justice. So Lizzy honed her mind and her sword, swearing to defend these, her compatriots, to her dying breath.
     One warm summer's day, Lizy relaxed on a bed of grass, listening to a nearby cascade. She had just finished whetting her sword, and it lay six inches from her fingertips. Distinct from the muted osunds of the distant manor, a most abrasive noise- the scraping of metal upon metal- began to chafe Lizzy's ears. Recognizing the sound of a mounted knight's armor, Lizzy suddenly leapt up, ready to meet any miscreant with her biting blade.
     And 'miscreant' was no misnomer; the approaching man had ecaped duress and rogueishly stolen his armaments from a sleeping knight. But though he was currently dressed as a noble knight, Samson Smith had been goaded to his crime and his escape by the same quest for justice that drove Miss Randolf. An eight-foot lance, however, is far more salient than a righteous goal, escpecially when fastened to a fast-approaching warhorse.
There you are. How did you like it? You might notice the little clicky boxes below *hint*hint*.
Quote of the day: (by Rory, our puppy, as translated by Dad) I will make you love me with my tongue.
Hope you're having a lovely day!
(P.S. Poll for the cool people at the top of the sidebar.)
Carrie

Creation

2011-02-10T10:42:00.000-05:00

I can really respect those who create originally. Ideas, of any kind, are beautiful- seeds of uniqueness in this post-apocalyptic world. Relient K puts it well in their song "Wit's All Been Done Before":
"Wit's all been done before.
We do something to death,
And then we dig it up, just to do it some more."
This little piece of irony- quoting someone else in a post about originality- sums up my character for the last few months. I've been stuck in a creative mire. Realizing the new things other people are doing, the innovation that is still occurring, I become overwhelmed.
Another little piece of truth:
"Cause repetition's just so safe.
Repetition's just like prison.
And I'd prefer to be out of place,
Cause I'm not really into prison."
It is this very prison that I find myself in- a lined, cushioned prison, in which there is simultaneously oblivious comfort and mental lockdown. I have tried all the ways of getting out that are so typical. But what I need is change- massive, earthshaking, shattering change. For many years, this has been a terror of mine, but I find that it is in the metamorphosis that we can become strongest. The tides prove which rocks are steady and which wear away.
There have been so many failed attempts. When I had hamsters, I would occasionally bathe them in the bathroom sink- it would make them cleaner, but very unhappy. Frantic little pink paws scrambled futilely against the ceramic bowl until my hand reached down, lifting them into a warm washcloth and the comfort of dryness. It is this same kind of futility that I have come across. My attempts- that silly little stump of a will I have, countless schedules, lists, papers, as many human plans as I can synthesize. But it's all right there- rely not on your own understanding. I have tried that. I know it doesn't work. This is why I'm a Christian- the Bible is completely consistent with my experiences. When Paul writes about the sinful self, it's not just more archaic run-ons- it's real, it's exactly what I've run into. God is my last resort, as shameful as that is- but He's my only hope now. If there's going to be earthshaking change, it's going to be all Him.
Carrie

As per your request, amici mei (my friends)

2011-02-09T22:28:00.000-05:00

The music I've been obsessively listening to the past few days (who am I kidding? Hours. I've replayed these like dozens of times. :) They make me happy. How can you not love music that is made so happily?
For some odd reason always my favorite Beatles song.
Because drinking songs are the bomb digity.
And so are hymns.
Is your coffee racist?
Are you reading a book? Don't you EVER interrupt me while I'm reading a book.
And, for your information, red eye flashes twice.
Julian Smith is one of my favorite videomakers. (Videoists? Videographers?) Anyway, he's homeschooled. :)
Tomorrow there will be more. Tomorrow there will be better. Until, be satisfied with these awesome people.
Yours,
Carrie

Scan of the Day 30

2011-02-05T11:06:00.000-05:00

Looking through my "to do" box, found this. There's a problem with this. A deep, underlying, priority problem with this. (disclaimer: altered by picnik. Cheating?)
On a happier note, I've decided to resurrect Scan of the Day.
~Carrie

To entertain you, of course

2011-02-01T13:39:00.000-05:00

The following is an excerpt from a story I've written.
~
Gwyn galloped along the mountain path, thankful for her trusty mount. Bell was an old mare, but she had steady feet.
Bell galloped along the mountain path, annoyed at her rider. She wasn’t young anymore, and Gwyn took advantage of her. Just because she was magicked as a foal and could run for thousands of miles without fatigue was no reason she shouldn’t get a good retirement.

But her rider was not thinking of her age, her retirement, or anything beyond her usefulness at the moment.
Gwyn's fingers were numb, and her nose had become the shade of a raspberry before the foliage thinned and more land became visible. The path seemed to end abruptly and completely in a dead end- a twelve-foot tall hedge loomed ahead.

Bell balked. I’m not stupid, she thought. I may be a horse, I may be a gosh darned magic horse, but there is nothing I hate more than the tickles of a thousand pine needles and those annoying sprites inside them.

Gwyn urged her forward. “Come on, Bell. There’s got to be something on the other side.”

Yes, thought Bell. Pain is on the other side, silly human.

Four feet away from it, Bell refused to take another step.

“Fine,” Gwyn snapped. “I’ll go myself.” She jumped off and walked closer.

Bell snorted. You can bring a human to a hedge, but you can’t make her stop.

But to Bell’s amazement, Gwyn pushed aside a branch to reveal a broad road, traveled by scores of elves. As she gazed at them, the branches grew apart, forming a door. Gwyn stepped through, as if in a trance.

As soon as she did so, she became abundantly aware of exactly how crowded the road was. A middle-aged elf- probably in her early 400s- bumped into Gwyn and gave her the evil eye. To Gwyn’s alarm, her nose began to elongate, gaining inches by the second.

“Oh, you’re a human,” the elf muttered, apparently further annoyed. “So weak.” She waved her hand and Gwyn’s nose snapped painfully back into its original shape. Gwyn had learned her lesson- she stepped back through the doorway, feeling her tender nose.
~
There is nothing more enjoyable for me than to be able to write something that makes my friends laugh. I hope this (excerpt) did that (prompted laughter) for you.
Yours,
Carrie

What I've heard today

2011-01-30T22:07:00.000-05:00

Billy Joel. Songs so contagious they stick in your head for days. Also good homework music.
Luka Bloom. Never heard of him before I listened to his biking song. Master of percussion and rhythm.
Relient K. The only boy band I will allow myself to fangirl over, because of their clever lyrics and origin in our fine state.
Music Man. Specifically, Goodnight, My Someone. I could play the part of Amaryllis to a T.
Pink. Funhouse and So What? Because I can, because I like songs with evil clowns in them today.
Anarbor. I'm not a bad guy, I've never been a theif. I pay my taxes and I pretend to believe. Oh I'm going to jail, I won't make bail. Oh God I hate this town. They're coming to get me, I swear I'm not guilty.
TobyMac. Because I can imagine dancing to Tonight, you know, if I danced.
So,

Goodnight, my someone, goodnight, my love. Sleep tight, my someone, sleep tight, my love. Our star is shining its brightest light, for goodnight, my love, for goodnight. Sweet dreams be yours dear, if dreams there be; sweet dreams to carry you close to me. I wish they may and I wish they might- now goodnight, my someone, goodnight.

Foundation and impossible quality of the debate on abortion

2010-12-13T21:24:00.000-05:00

Subtitle: Not enough passion or substance for the discussion, but not bad enough to backspace.

As I see it, the debate on abortion rests on two things:

1. The time set as the beginning of life
When you believe life begins determines when it is and is not ethical to abort a baby. Those who think of life as starting at conception naturally believe that abortion is never right, whereas those who think life begins at birth or another time in the pregnancy find no problem aborting the baby/organism before that.
2. The value of a life, or of the existence of the organism
The baby is thought to be either alive and thus worth saving or not alive and thus not important.
~Both of these factors depend on opinion. As is widely proclaimed by those who are pro-choice, life is a cycle, and different people have different ideas on when life begins, so there can be no definitive answer- scientific or otherwise- that will satisfy everyone and the debate will never end. Legislation on abortion cannot be passed without deciding for our nation when life begins. The individual moral codes of some citizens of the country will be smooshed slightly no matter what decision is decided upon.

For the record, I am decidedly anti-choice and pro-life, but I have also come to a state of anti-debate on most controversial topics. Argument-squashing is a challenging but enjoyable sport- when you frequent debate threads, try to find common ground and agree to disagree. Peace FTW!
Have a lovely week, readers.
Sincerely, Carrie

Group project

2010-11-21T11:31:00.000-05:00

When I learned in English on Wednesday that our next study was going to be finished with a group project, my heart beat a stacatto rhythm in my chest. (Yes, I used that poetic little phrase several times in my NaNo. It's called word count padding.) There's something terrifying about having to depend on other people for grades. Getting bad grades would not damage me, so perhaps it is an irrational fear, but yet, it is present- I have never gotten below a B.
Group projects also terrify me because I linger on the edge of being entirely socially awkward, and it is merely chance, luck, blessing, and my own silence that save me from falling off the cliff and plunging into the sea of isolation.
Groups were assigned by drawing a piece of paper- it held the position from which we were to evaluate our subsequent reading assignments, and there were four total perspectives possible. Particularly after I drew the piece of paper which assigned my group, I felt my nerves. Abolition Persuasion. From class conversation, I learned who my groupmembers were- not friends of mine, nor were they people with whom I regularly communicate. When our teacher gave us permission to trade once, I hastily turned down the offer made by someone who desired to be in that group. Abolition was, after all, the assignment which had at first looked good to me. But, as I walked home and contemplated, I realized that my odds of having a friend in my group was incredibly low, should I remain. I actually felt more drawn to another perspective assignment, specifically Historical, and I regretted my decision fully.
But this is a modern age, my friends. This is an age of the car that travels on corn and the flying car. This is the age of the personal-contact-devoid shopping trip. This is the age of the bionic body parts. This is the age of synthesized animals. This is the age of human development, so I resorted to that epitome of communication art- Facebook.
Luckily, my potential trader has a facebook as well, and checks it during school- before the sun had reached its zenith I was traded, and all went well. Now I was a Historical, if not from a literal piece of paper, from something just as good- a virtual message.
Friday- the day of truth- the group project hovered at the back of my mind throughout the duration of our ten minute study time and practice vocabulary quiz.
When the time came to divide, however, my heart rate increased, and I looked anxiously at the corner where all of the Historicals were assembling. The butterflies flew away, relief passed over me, and I happily walked over- we have a small group, one excellent friend, one kind aquaintance, and one neutral but smart classmate. A discussion of the reading was good, and I had little speaking to do in our subsequent short class presentation. An in-class game of Boggle was fun, despite my personal lack of aptitude for it. In class on Friday, I gained hope- this project might just go well after all.
~Carrie
Postscript: As I was writing, I was thinking about my math class on Thursday, even if it was subconscious. Did you see the first sentence of that last paragraph? Dividing? Increasing? Sounds like math to me.

So. Procrastination.

2010-11-20T22:16:00.000-05:00

It's the second year I've done NaNo. We're coming to the close of the third week, and my word count is something like 23000. Of 50,000. So I've got a few words yet. My NaNo story is a touch boring, but I'm working on remedying that. I think a chase scene should be just the trick to get my characters out of that haunting, trapping little inn in northern New York state, and back out into the wide world. There's some things we can put off, some things that we can avoid doing, and both writing and school have become those things, when they shouldn't.
Also, I've been thinking of journeying into other realms- that of video, that of pictoral art. There are some things that I really want to try. A lot of my quizzes for my online classes for school are coming due after the Thanksgiving break, and I've been putting them off for literally months. So in addition to a load of words, I've got a load of school to do before the month ends, and I'll have to content myself with making a list of fun projects to do when I finish NaNo and my quizzes.
Because I know you all read this blog because you can't get enough of me, here it is:
- finish that almost stop-motion video I made a while ago
- get out those DVDs (yes, it's still on my list. Don't hate.)
- post more on the blog, with nice, shiny posts that are worth posting
- try stop motion with legos
- revise one of my old, interesting stories
- try to spit out a short story or two for a contest or two
- go on a library tour
- have friends
There's something sordid about growing up.
~Carrie

winter

2010-11-07T22:51:00.003-05:00

*disclaimer: written Nov. 7*
chapped hands, cold walks home from school, problems regulating body temperature between freezing air and burning sweaters, slight and debilitating cabin fever, NaNoWriMo, am I really this lazy? That I can't even write a blog post, it ends up like a list?, You can really tell I have used up all my complete sentences for the day on NaNo, can't you, soaking in music and Christmas carols, admiring Rory's new blue collar of beautifulness, school and more school and more school until it comes out my ears, complete lack of fashion excusable for layers, awesome NaNo sticker, write in tomorrow, need more words need more words, wrote a curse word in my story today, and a gun, I'm so bad, so corrupted, neeeeed sleep and a fingernail cutting, editing this crap tomorrow will be its only salvation, perhaps I should write this as a story, I know, I'll do everything exciting tomorrow and write it as a blog post, except in third person, there we go, what will I ever do with this probably hard to read rambling, I don't know, don't ask me, fine, then, I'll just go shower and read about Salvation and transcendentalism.

Connections

2010-10-17T20:38:00.000-04:00

Lately I've been feeling a disconnect.
And that was entirely and completely cliche, but it's true. I don't like the homeschooled kids that I used to pretend to be friends with, I am liking the public school kids less as I spend more time with them- but online, that all goes away. Most of my social awkwardness- not all of it- vanishes like a puff of smoke. It's like my fingers can talk so much better than my mouth, typing can articulate and enunciate my thoughts so much more clearly. That's why it's such a joy and a relief NaNoWriMo is starting. On the forums, and through the regional groups, I am finding that I can relate to these people- it is one of the few communities in life that I admire deeply. The most exciting part of all this is that I have my driver's license now- I can go to the write-ins and meet the people I've talked to. Potentially, it is a whole new group of friends, with whom I share a challenge and passion for writing.
One of the good things that has come from this apparent disconnect is a desire to finish my commitments with these people, which leads to me finishing DVDs that I have owed people for years. I have literally had the following conversation more than twenty times.
(Insert event here)
Me: Oh, that reminds me of that time we were shooting (movie name), when (actor) did (something funny.) Remember?
Friend: Yeah! How's the DVD coming?
Me: Well, I've been working on it, and it's almost done. All I have to do is the soundtrack, then burn it, but I'm having a problem with (insert minor, easily fixed technical problem.)
Friend: (Response varied, from "That's too bad." to "I WILL HURT YOU IF THE DVD IS NOT FINISHED SOON!" Intensity directly proportional to amount of time since shooting.*Has peak; after about two years, people cease asking.)
So. I'm working on it. And I'm rediscovering my passion for it, in a simple vacation compiliation I'm making for my friend from summer video we took.
This year is really starting to look up.
~Carrie

Rory, the first chronicle

2010-10-09T16:26:00.000-04:00

I return, friends.

Because too many things must be chronicled, too many things have passed unmentioned.

So I will write for you.

(Below mentioned puppy)

On the thirteenth of May, a litter of puppies was born to a tired, good-tempered black dog that might have been part wolf. These puppies rested under a computer table until they were old enough to live outside, then they moved with their mother into a barn where there were wonderful hay bales to play in, holes to climb into, and countless animal smells to entertain them. Children would come and play with them, naming the big, chubby white one snowball. All the puppies were adorable. There were black ones and brown ones, small ones and big ones. Thirteen in all, but only one caught my eye when we went to visit them several times.

She was the smallest black puppy, laid-back and sweet tempered. Two months later, we went to pick her up. Rory whined for her mother all the way home, and was unsure when she reached our house.

After a bath, she was tired, and we fell asleep together on the floor in the living room. Ever since, we have been best friends. Rory I have loved, and Rory I love still.

~Always~

School: the ins and outs

2010-09-01T22:06:00.000-04:00

Literally:
From the inside, a rather modern, trim educational facility. From the outside: a rather brick jail without the fence.
Figuratively:
From outside (second degree experience): the teachers are a mixed bag of seriously insane and unjustly angry to kind, witty, and funny.
From inside (two classes I'm taking this year at high school): my two teachers seem to be both nice and good. Then again, on my sister's recommendation, they were the best.
From outside: the people: no big deal. So there's several hundred kids around. So what?
From inside: the dozens of personalities seem crushed inside an eight foot hall, personal bubbles are much smaller and less respected.
New, more insightful posts may or may not be forthcoming.
~Always~
Carrie

Morbid preoccupation

2010-08-22T11:25:00.000-04:00

Have you ever thought about what would happen if you died?
I imagine everyone has. My thought, however, has focused often on my relationships with other people. I've thought about what I would write if I wrote letters to the people I know to be delivered after I kick it. I've thought about who would come to my funeral.
But really, this has only resulted in more resolutions about how to live my life, and I remain fully convinced that I've got a lot more to do before I die.
Resolutions:
Be nicer to people.
Okay, so there was just one.
Things to do before I die:
Have an apartment.
Make a good- a really good- movie.
Do Nano again.
Go sailing for at least four days.
Spend a winter in the upper peninsula of Michigan.
Please comment your thoughts.
~Always
Carrie

Correspondence

2010-08-17T11:48:00.000-04:00

I always enjoy recieving letters in the mail (quaint, I know) but especially when they are entertaining. Like one I recieved a few days ago- but let's start at the beginning.
Cast:
Katelin- my friend, eldest in a fairly large family.
Elizabeth- her younger sister, 13 years of age, with a rather more firey temperament.
Myself
Prologue:
At their house, I teased Elizabeth, which she takes very badly. She currently has a mock feud going on with another family, in which she writes firey letters under the name "The Instigator."
Drama:
With a postmark of August the twelfth, this is the letter I recieved:
(Imagine an antique-style font, imperiously centered on the page.)
From the Instigator
The Instigator of the rebels finds Carole Anne (my last name) guilty of treason. I, the Instigator, sentence her to three years in the Dungeon.
If she joins my men, she will be free under my command. And though I am considered evil to some Empires and Kingdoms, you will find my offer reasonable, though others do not.
It is your choice. And my dungeon is empty right now, except for the snakes, toads, and mice. Otherwise I think it would be wise to think this offer over quickly.
I will not wait forever.
I want your answer before this month is over.
So think quickly.

The Instigator

So naturally, not only due to the insolent tone of the letter, but also because I enjoy antagonizing this particular girl (she hit me over the head with her choir folder for a year) and also because I believe she better respects those who fight her, I sent her a letter- prideful, mocking, and- well, I'll let you read it yourself.

My dear Instigator,

I found your letter interesting and amusing, chiefly due to the fact that I receive so little correspondence these days. Really brightened my outlook, you know?

Anyhow, your offer of a stay in prison is very tempting. Except for the fact that I, as a foreigner and a traveler to your fine country, am not subject to any of your laws including that about what actions and words constitute treason. So your little forces have no legal reason (or, I highly suspect, physical power) to imprison me, and I highly doubt your little troops are capable of keeping me imprisoned for very long.

On that cheery note, I find your request to join your men quite intriguing. Business is slow in my native land, so I could just pick up a hobby like this now- but I’m afraid I cannot accept any old position. I should think a chief of forces, a presidency, or perhaps command of a large portion of your territory are more on the order of what I should have.

In any case, I am very curious as to the “crime” which prompted you to send this letter. In your next correspondence, I request a detailed report of this “treason”, as well as a title I could assume should I choose to join you.

Until your next letter graces my prestigious desk I am, humbly and respectfully completely yours.

“That criminal” Carole Anne

P. S. Thanks for including my ‘e’s. Many people just don’t appreciate a silent letter any more.

So this is the state in which we are waiting. I'll mail the letter today.
Do you find this post interesting? Answering with the responses below the post information or the comment box is greatly appreciated.
~Always~
Carrie

Reworking a modern dinosaur

2010-08-01T16:11:00.001-04:00

Subtitle: the return of your blogger and her subsequent overhaul of the blog, in which everything will change except the name.
Explore, I invite you.
And: the most popular song for you all to have stuck in your heads for the rest of your life was the Hallelujah chorus.
Some writing will be posted on the fiction feed, there will be a clue in my posts whenever I do so. If you can figure it out, I laud you.
Yours,
Carrie

I write like a guy

2010-06-02T13:30:00.000-04:00

An awesome website:
the gender genie
It guesses a gender for the author of a text typed in its text box. It guessed that 2075 words of my NaNo novel were written by a guy.
On the other hand, when I submitted a paragraph about my female main character, it said the author was female, so I'm satisfied.
It's kind of unreliable though- a look at its keywords under the results you get will give you that. "We," "should," and "when" are hardly more feminine than "around," "below," and "who."
So, for grins, I put in some blog posts.
Feb. 6, 2010: male
Jan. 23, 2010: male
Nov. 28, 2010: female
Oct. 24, 2010: male
Aug. 30, 2010: male.
Fun, to try, and entertaining.
Anyway, that's it for today. Oh, school's almost out. That's fun.
There will be a more informative and lovely post on some other day.
Yours,
Carrie

DIY notebooks

2010-04-04T12:44:00.002-04:00

Inspired (actually more like stolen) from an etsy seller I can now not find, this idea seems apropos for the springtime when new things are born of old. No, the papers are not blank, but it is FREE to make!
Beginning supplies:

-Used envelopes- as many as you can find, if you have a stack of more than an inch or so, it will be harder. Make sure you have the same size.
-Rafia/ribbon/string of some sort- at least a foot for each hole.
-Hole punch
-Scissors
-Pencil
-Cardboard (optional, for cover.)
STEP 1: Punch holes in all envelopes. Measure, if you're picky, or just guess, and use a formerly punched one for a template on the rest so that the holes are in the same place. Also, trim off the flaps if they stick out.

STEP 2 (for optional cover): trace one envelope and its holes onto cardboard twice, opposite, to form covers. Cut out.

STEP 3 (for cover) STEP 2 (for no cover): Cut rafia/ribbon/string into suitable lengths and thread through the holes of one cover, the envelopes, and the other cover. Tie.

And you're done! Wasn't that easy? Now you can laboriously pick up each hole punching from your floor. :)
Here are some pictures of the notebooks I have made this way:

The large notebook, with covers, finished:

A smaller notebook that had no covers

The small notebook in an arty picture

If you enjoyed this, leave a comment, and I'll post more and varied DIYs. Also, does anyone know of a better name for them? That's a very awkward acronym.

More blogs later- and HAPPY EASTER!

Yours,

Carrie

Happy Easter Vigil!

2010-04-03T18:06:00.000-04:00

Our family is celebrating by......
((drumroll))
NOT going to church! That's right! Well, you see, we've gone to church the past two days, and Mom has played for three services during those two days, one of which was a cantata. Tomorrow, Easter Sunday, we will be going to two services, both of which Mom's playing for- so the Easter Vigil service tonight is not where we're going to be.
I have a DIY (do it yourself) I'm going to post in a few minutes, but I had some stuff to show/tell you first.
Last Thursday Mom and I went shopping, and I was amazed by the array of towels in the JC Penny's.

Since then, I have become minorly obsessed with towel walls. WE HAVE ONE IN OUR LOCAL KMART!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Also, I have become better at taking pictures without being noticed. Hints:
1. Don't use the flash. Less detail, more subtlety.
2. Steady the camera on something if possible.
3. If you must use the flash, use a convenient disturbance to hide your picture taking.
(End Carrie's Stalker Hints Of The Day)
A jug a friend and I found in our church refrigerator the other day:

Orange Beverage? That's not very specific...

Very awesome website: http://www.musopen.com/ provides lots of free music to download. Haven't created an account, but probably will soon, to get some music for a particular video I have in the works.
Another useful site I used today was Picasa's web albums, Blogger-in-Draft's picture uploader wasn't getting it. All blogs and blogger accounts automatically have an account, so that's handy and all.
DIY coming soon!
Your blogist,
Carrie

Made my day. :)

2010-04-01T21:11:00.000-04:00

Topeka

PAGES feature!

2010-03-31T16:35:00.002-04:00

Blogger has a new feature, namely pages, which is great. Instead of posting the rest of the Amalgam story, it can be found on my latest writing page. Pages can be found by following the links in the gadget to the side. ----->
Also, new poll up, and I did a little rearranging. Check it out, you might find something new. Or not, you know.
So- middle day of spring break? Pretty darn good. Put up a couple new youtube videos- one made with my cousin, the other with my friend Natalie. Link will be somewhere, don't know where yet.
This is a post of nothing. Sorry about it being the second in a row.
Thank you dearest blog readers! I promise the moment I have a thought of substance I shall write it down and put it on here!
Always,
Carrie

A business idea and a bit of rambling

2010-03-28T13:35:00.003-04:00

Like the new layout? Haven't decided if I do.
So, what to write. A few snapshots of my life the past few days.
The small vehicle whirrs through the darkening night. The late snowfall clings only in certain places, tracing the lowest points of the fields and highlighting hedgerows. I feel so small.
Is it just me, or would it be brilliant to make a website of Lord of the Rings-related videos at www.entflix.com? Try taking a common typo and turning it into massive success.
SWITCHFOOT CONCERT TONIGHT WITH CHURCH YOUTH GROUP!!!!!!!! ENORMOUS FUN IS EXPECTED!
Okay, my brain is stultifying. Perhaps I should um.... not watch hours and hours of videos? Work on something productive? Perhaps? Maybe. I don't know.
And
when
I
press
that
publish
button
you
all
will
be
subject
to
my
words!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Mwahahaha.
Okay, yeah, I think I might be insane. That's okay, though.
Because it's all alright.
See you all later.
Yours,
Carrie

a couple of quotes

2010-03-22T21:40:00.002-04:00

Favorite two reads today:
The art of the steal, an article in the April Wired issue that came today
and
the St. John's College brochure, which included such quotes as:

"Great ideas don't need mortal guardians." - David Cherry
"No one has ever drawn or been able to describe the Big Picture, but for 2,000 years Western civilization has evolved because certain people needed to know more about it." - Virginia Beck

Short story: The Amalgam

2010-03-18T09:16:00.000-04:00

I had a very odd dream last night. It's one of those where you wake up at six and think, "oh, that would make such a good story!" and then wake up at eight and think "that was such a disjointed series of events, I don't even know if I can coherently repeat them!"
But, for your sake, dear readers, I shall try to make the extraordinarily strange events that played through my head last night into a story. I shall embroider for your reading pleasure.
I don't claim any sense, mind you.
The feeling was exhilarating, flying through open, empty space. If you didn't try to breathe, that is. The thirty-second journey at hyper speed was too short to need a spacesuit, and they aimed you directly at the space ship.
The Armada was a giant ship, rather reminiscent of the Millennium Falcon, but much larger. It was so large, in fact, that it had been established as a planet, and had its own atmosphere, but orbited the Earth. It appeared ominous and grey as I fast approached it. No muscle moved, for fear that I should set off my aiming and instead fly several thousand miles off into space.
Several people had, you know. Before IQ tests became mandatory for travel out to the Armada.
But my mission was rather trivial, when you consider the reasons most people travel into space. I was making a film, and with several notable Internet video celebrities, no less.
I shall not turn this into a fan fiction, so I shall not mention names.
When I first arrived, it was early dawn on the Armada, and the ship was turned in its orbit so that the point faced down towards earth, and we were subject to the earth's gravity. After hitting the surface with considerable impact, I began to slide down, but soon grabbed hold of something, and distinctly recall looking about and seeing various other actors clinging to the side of the ship as well.
When we had continued in our orbit of the earth for an hour or two, the angle of the ship to the earth had relaxed, and we were standing on the ship, which was horizontal to the earth's surface.
Walking around, I met my shipmates. They were all as I had pictured them- the ones cynical in their videos were quite so in reality and the witty ones were kind. The fact they were all several years older than me aroused secret doubts in my mind as to my competence. I received a script, but a memo from another actor proved much more useful.
"See the Amalgam up there?" He pointed, and I saw a shapeless form on the opposite end of the ship. "It's mechanical, only they want to know how it will look when the hero approaches, you know, if it's too tacky. So you're going to try it out."
I frantically flipped through the blue pages covered with cues and lines, and his practiced hands took it from me.
"Here, page eighty." I buried myself so intensely in the script that I did not notice when he walked away, or, indeed, anything else until someone in crew-looking clothes with a headset on approached.
"The ship's over there." She pointed, and I numbly followed.
The scene would be impressive. The Amalgam, in truth a mechanical wonder with a speaker, was to be the nefarious villain, and the hero would ride up to it, alone, and proclaim some heroic words before striking it down with some weapon or other that had been introduced earlier in the script. After an epic battle, of course.
The problem was not with the Amalgam. The problem was not with the heroic lines. The problem was not with the weapon, because I would not actually deal with that, this being a trial run and everything. The problem was the individual ship. During pre-departure training, I distinctly recall sleeping through that class, because I didn't figure it would be too hard to hitch a ride on someone else's ship.
But before I could protest, I was being herded into the small vessel, which made me quite claustrophobic, along with my other fears.
Luckily, the crew girl gave me a few helpful pointers. But when I say "few", that is exactly what I mean. She gave a vague wave at the joystick, "direction," a gesture at the floorboards, "brake and gas," and brushed her hand over the dash and its many buttons, "extraneous controls." Needless to say, this did not give me a world of confidence.
But the camera had started, the director had called "Action!" and my little ship seemed to be rising all by itself until I realized my foot had been on the gas, an inconspicuous button the same color as the floor.
I pressed it again, tentatively, and found it was not very responsive. The mechanical Amalgam was still far, far away, so I jammed my foot on the gas. This sent me a terrific distance, and I braked so hard that I almost started to spin. In fact, when I did get close enough, I couldn't stop and stay still- this seemed to take an exquisite combination of gas, brake, and one of those "extraneous controls" my guide had been so helpful about. So, I took a deep breath, rolled the glass cover back slightly, yelled "HEROIC WORDS!" out the window, and turned my craft for home.
In the speaker in the personal ship, I could hear the crew laughing back at the camera station. Relieved, I drew a deep breath and began to laugh myself. It was kind of funny, after you get over your fear of inadvertently plunging into deep space.
The landing was rather clumsy- more of a swift deceleration that pushed me up against that panel of "extraneous controls" and a kind of dull thump and slide for several feet. Eager hands stopped the craft and pressed the release for the glass cover, and several helpful people aided me to my feet. They led me over to the director and left quite before I felt I had my land legs back again, but I looked up at the director with a sort of triumphant, mischievous grin. He was much younger than I had thought, and was one of those who had originally welcomed me to the ship.
"Well, that's one way to do it," he said, and everyone smiled. Inside, I was burning with relief. My fears were that I had ruined the trial run, and more fuel would have to be brought up to the Armada, which was terribly expensive, to replace that I had used. But apparently a test run was less particular than I had believed.
I was standing in the same place, still recovering, and everyone else seemed to melt away.
"We're done for the day," the director said, and he smiled when I said, "Thank God." in much too emphatic a way.
"So, you don't have much experience with PAC?" It took me a minute to realize he was talking about Personal Air Craft. I had only been indoctrinated into "space life" a few weeks before I came here.
"Um, no. Might or might not have slept through that class."
"I slept in Arrival class. I think you made the better choice, it's lucky I escaped with a bruise." He grinned, and pointed at the large purple spot on his forearm.
We went into the dining hall, which was full of crew, cast, and the occasional adult. I followed the crowd through the line and took my tray to a reasonably empty table. The other end of it held a few important actors, but I reasoned that few others would sit here, as the other occupants looked buried in conversation.
To my surprise, the director sat down, and began striking up a conversation about film and such. Talking proved cathartic, and my nerves were eased by the easy manners of the others. I mentioned that I had written several scripts, and joked about being more comfortable behind the camera with a pencil than in front of it with a space ship. The others laughed, but a thoughtfulness appeared on the face of the director. A kind of frightening thoughtfulness.
I got up, threw away my tray, and started towards the door when someone called out from the table behind me.
"It's after hours!"
"You have a curfew?" I asked disbelievingly.
"No, the Armada's vertical now, you'd fall off if you went out that door. Buildings are ultra-gravitized, so we stay on the floor." I did notice, upon further observation, that most of the others had left earlier.
"So what now?"
"Uno tournament!" the girl playing the heroine yelled, and everyone cheered.
I failed miserably, as was my custom at these things, and was soon by the sidelines. I found myself in good company, and we discussed the prospects of the film, and the different scenes. To my relief, my own character was in few scenes, and those were not scheduled to be shot for several days. I would have time to live down the trial run against the Amalgam.
The uno tourney went on for hours, by the clock on the wall. The clock itself was curious and humorous, for it alone seemed to have escaped the ultra-gravitation of the building, and was hanging above its hook, quite upside down.
It had only been six hours, however, not twelve, when people started to get up to leave.

"So the ship rotates every six hours, not twelve?" I asked, and was immediately affirmed. I followed the others out onto the gray, metallic surface of the ship and drowsily made my way to the sleeping quarters.
~Actually, this story is longer than I thought. Let me know if you like it, and I'll post the rest. If not, then not.
~Always~

I'm on the tube of you...

2010-03-07T16:17:00.001-05:00

So, after much trepidation and about six failed attempts, here's my first youtube video: tHe BeGiNnIg
The story:
We learned this thing in Sunday School,
My friend and I thought it really cool,
We practiced nearly every week,
Until the rhythm into my bones did leak.
So I came home and turned the camera on,
Messed around, knocked at things, and carried on,
And the long and short of this whole verse,
Is that I'm now on youtube, for better or worse.
-
Yes, I know it was a cop-out to use "on" to rhyme with itself in lines five and six. I'm sorry, but my creativity has nearly waned for the day.
Yours,
Carrie

Philip II of Spain - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

2010-02-11T16:02:00.000-05:00

Philip II of Spain - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia: "It is impiety, and almost blasphemy to presume to know the will of God. It comes from the sin of pride, Even kings, Brother Nicholas, must submit to being used by God's will without knowing what it is. They must never seek to use it."
Beautiful- though Catholic, though Spanish, though a monarch.

Veritas

2010-02-06T20:17:00.003-05:00

Imagine a land where the trade is in secrets, and whoever knows your dirty little is your permanent creditor. Anarchy prevails, but for a wealthy man known as Lord Horatio, who has dirt on just about anyone. The only one who has nothing to fear is the one who has nothing to hide. Welcome to Veritas.
What questions do you have about this land? It's going to be the setting for a story I'm working on, but I can't seem to think very clearly. Any help would be appreciated.
~Always~

The view from my anthill

2010-02-04T00:04:00.000-05:00

We are so insignificant, we humans. The daily grind has dimmed our perspective so that we cannot see beyond our small worlds. We have ceased to wonder at the world, because the collection of grains of sand fills so much of our time. What would ants do if they ever finished building their houses?
Well, what do the birds do? They take no shelter, labor for no food or HDTV. They sing, they fly. To animate them, one might say that their occupation is joy.
What if we were to live more like birds, less like ants? What would happen if we craned our insect-like necks, shocked all the other ants, and just took a minute to enjoy the wonder of our world?
I beg to differ, Will. The world is not a stage, it is a four foot piece of turf, and we men and women cannot presume to be players, but are ants.
Even in the throes of midnight I am ~Always~
Carrie

Drive-by movie reviews

2010-01-29T19:25:00.000-05:00

So, since I've unwisely invested much of my time recently in watching movies on Netflix, thought I'd do a little recap for you.
Two Brothers and a Bride/A Foreign Affair
IMDb listing
A promising western-style first shot is overshadowed by the next forty minutes of bad movie. And honestly, that's all I got through. Tim Blake Adams does such a convincing portrayal of an obnoxious, immature farmer that I couldn't keep watching.
A one.
Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist
IMDb listing
I watched it all the way through, despite morals I didn't like and a predisposition against the film totally unexplainable but for confusion with a movie that came out at the same time. (Also why I didn't go to see Doctor Dolittle 2 when I was six. But that's a different story.)
The setting was totally realistic and the characters were so natural and beleiveable that it was engaging. Norah is an atypical heroine with a biting wit that comes in when you'd least expect it. Nick is totally annoying except when he refuses temptation- but only about ten minutes too late!
Takes place in one night. At some points really feels like you've been watching that long.
Frustrating, cute, but not really worth it.
A two.
Excess Baggage
IMDb listing
Alicia Silverstone does a beleiveable snotty rich girl. Again, don't like the morals or the language. I liked it because it combined a rich-girl-getting-into-more-than-she-bargained-for plot with a rich-girl-falls-for-regular/slightly inferior-guy plot for an original idea.
So, overall, a two.
Kate and Leopold
IMDb listing
Cute. Very cute, and historical, which of course I love. The love story was worth watching- her brother really loves her, and everyone realizes that a little 1800s is a good thing. I think, if you enjoy chick flicks, this one's good.
The first positive rating! A four.
Love and Debate
Not even going to give you the listing. Absolutely awful.
A one.
More drive-by reviews later, if you liked them, please comment.
Yours,
~Always~
Et: Does anyone really go to the IMDb listings? Need I really post links to those?

Lyric Project

2010-01-25T09:55:00.004-05:00

This year, I'm going to do a project. A fun, awesome project, and it's already been set in motion.
It has to do with music. I love music, and I like to write it, but I'm awful at writing lyrics. So you, the commenters, get to post lyrics in response to this post, and I will write music for them, shoot video, and post it on YouTube. Sound fun? Did to me.
Rules:
~No profanity.
~Not too long.
~Nothing I don't want to sing.
Also, if you've already got a melody, but want it finished, email me. I'd love to work with your ideas.
I'm already working on the first, Crumbling, words written by Rose. I have the melody, and the video will be up by the end of the week.
This should be a lot of fun. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.
Get commenting!
~Always~
Carrie

Advice and music

2010-01-23T12:09:00.003-05:00

I read a blog. It's called Meditations of His Love. It's a few Christian young ladies who write every two weeks on interesting topics.
The thing is: they're looking for another writer. My fingers raced to the mouse, the survey for those interested opened before my eyes in less than thirty seconds.
But something made me pause in my tracks. Something inspired me not to answer the questions. I don't feel as if I'm qualified to do that- advice was something I always thought I had, something I thought that I should always be able to give. It was one of my life goals, three years ago when I made a list of them- being able to give good advice. But I am here, almost sixteen, and find myself no better at that.
In fact, I am still grateful for anything anyone else has to give.
On a lighter note, music feels as if it's exploding my brain, but I have no substantial ideas. There are some freaking brilliant people on Youtube. So here's the thing:
You, the reader, get to write me a song.
Post me some lyrics, I'll write it a song, I promise, yes I do.
And it'll be on youtube.
Here's the constraints- nothing I don't want to sing- I'll be the judge of that. And nothing very long.
Comment me a lyric, dear.
~Always~

The letter

2010-01-21T20:45:00.000-05:00

The feel of ink flowing smoothly out of a pen onto white paper, or maybe it's blue, with a flowered border. Perhaps, instead, it's a rather ill shade of bluish green, because I tried dying it with purple cabbage for days, but it merely stunk up the kitchen. It's a paper filled with a memory of the day I bought it, the sister I love who was with me. Just the paper brings back memories- then the pen. It's the pen that I edited that novel with- the one I don't like anymore, because it had no plot really, and the cardboard characters that I wanted to kill, but they were the only ones who didn't die. Or it's that cool little multi-colored mechanical pencil I can't use on school so it's the one I doodle with and fill the pages of my notebook, and the places on my desk pad where I've used all the post-it sized papers.
And then the words- words we can't say, because writing a letter is that much more of our souls. It just sounds so awkward- and it's really much better on paper. We can see it so much more clearly.
You're my friend. My best friend. And when I write you letters, it's a piece of my soul that I'm giving you.
So I guess that's why I don't email that much.
~Always~

Quake!

2010-01-17T19:58:00.000-05:00

The past weekend was a Youth Quake event, held by the Youth Encounter company, in a city near us. Two middle school girls, their mothers, and I went. It was a lot of fun.
The theme was do.love.walk, and came from Micah 6:8 : He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God. (From Bible Gateway) This wasn't the translation, it was to do justly instead of act justly.
I think it challenged me, refreshed me, and helped me. Some of the paralells in the speakers' stories were so relevant to things that have happened in my life.
It is just amazing to me that there are twenty-eight people- almost thirty people- who want to read this blog. I know I've been tardy, and absent, and sadly witless, for the past year or year and a half. Some choices that I made were wrong. Some priorities have been misstacked, and somehow the more important ones ended up being pushed to the bottom.
Words are important. They can stick in our mind, bother us, bring us to forgive or to repent. They can inspire us to tears, creativity, or prayer. They can be beautiful, asthetically, and vocally.
So I take this blog- this priority blog- and I write these words for you to read, hoping you'll enjoy them.
~Always~

A poem from a while ago

2010-01-07T19:57:00.000-05:00

I like to clean my drafts once in a while, this one's from a couple months ago:
~
I know you're right, I'm wrong
It just took me awfully long
To realize that it's true.
You rarely ever make me smile
It's actually been quite a while
Since I've laughed
with
you.
And you're never bringing me good news
I guess these days the good is rarely true
But I never grow tired of hoping
~Always

Happy Boxing Day 2009!

2009-12-26T08:23:00.000-05:00

Anyone noticed how you can't search profiles anymore? It's very saddening, and I know you could once, but can't find it. Leave instructions in the comments, please, if you know how.
Also- does the "follow" feature fail after a certain number of blogs "followed"? Because I'm getting suspiciously few updates for as many blogs as I'm following.
Hope you had a lovely Christmas, good turkey, presents, pingpong, that sort of thing. I certainly did.
Have I posted about my youtube account? It's here.
http://www.youtube.com/user/etCarrieAnne
New Year's resolutions:
~Keep up with school, and get back on track before Jan. 1st. Okay, so this one's more for the end of this year.
~(((THIS ONE'S BIG AND IMPORTANT, SO LOOK CLOSE:)) I am resolving to post a youtube video EVERY WEEK this year. I haven't even posted one, and am a little nervous about it- but the only way to get better at making movies is to practice, so I'll work on it. What do you like to see on Youtube videos? Do you watch Youtube? Are you thinking this will make me more sparse in my posts? IT WON'T!
Also: Wired magazine said, more than a year ago, that blogs like this are dead. Prove them wrong! Comment!
~Also~

NaNoWriMo

2009-11-28T00:13:00.003-05:00

I WON! I HAVE WRITTEN FIFTY THOUSAND WORDS IN THE MONTH OF NOVEMBER! It was probably the best month of my life so far. I think I'm addicted to this writing thing- even though compared to my earlier writing this novel stinks, I'm not giving up. I'm keeping up. Which means making goals, and using those goals to keep going when I don't want to.

I'll put up statistics at the end of November, when I (hopefully) will have completed, not just typed fifty thousand words on, my novel.

But, because I love you all, and I've abandoned you for a month, here's November in ten main events.

Beginning of NaNoWriMo
Homeschool choir concert
Got asked to direct Christmas play
Middle of NaNoWriMo
Community choir concert
Babysitting for three young boys
Played the most fun handbell song ever with mallets
Thanksgiving dinner with wonderful lemon meringue pie
Katie's home!
End of NaNoWriMo!

Thanks for reading. Hopefully more posts will follow soon.

Carrie

Updates, under topic

2009-10-31T22:01:00.003-04:00

Facebook- So October.
NaNoWriMo- An hour and fortyseven minutes till! Cheers to last minute plotting and staying up on non-New-Year!
Videos- More important things now.
Room- Two new bulletin boards! Novel planning will be a cinch! Also: collage poster up, two pictures up as well, clean floor, clean desk- what better for writing?
Journal- started one again yesterday.
Electricity- went out for long enough for a nice candle-lit shower yesterday evening. Perfect length.
In short- there's a lot of time in a day! I've done a lot today, and like the pattern.
~Always~

Bedtime Stories

2009-10-24T18:28:00.000-04:00

IMDb listing
A pretty imaginative modern family comedy, this 2008 flick starring Adam Sandler is intriguing for its rather unique plot. The guinea pig is frightening but cute, and the jokes are frequently average and occasionally good. Something about Adam Sandler, though, just doesn't sit right with me. His character is much too juvenile to be a grown man, much to kid-like to get the girl in the end. Nice, though, because of its excellently rich special effects and lack of language.
Rates a three in my book. Thoroughly average.

NaNoWriMo

2009-10-24T18:10:00.000-04:00

As most of you probably know, I like to write. I cannot honestly say that I love to write, because if I loved to write I would devote more time to it. But I genuinely enjoy it, and want to spend more time on it, and as all of us who have read 1 Corinthians chapter 13 love is not an emotion, but an action.
So, for the month of November, I am choosing to love writing with this awesome site. It is going to be crazy. It is going to be hard. Mostly, it is going to be fun. But it will be good for me.
I've been lately deteriorating into a kind of writing stupor. You might have noticed that I now have trouble writing enough on one subject for a one-paragraph blog post. So, this challenge is to write 50,000 words in the month of November. I have no ideas except a vague notion of a character that might be a major character but will likely remain shrouded in the mysteries of minor-characterism. Which is a word I just made up, btw.
But, at this point, I would like to highly commend and mention one who I greatly respect and hope to call my friend, who is entering this commitment as well. I subscribe to her blogs, am her Goodreads friend, and now her NaNoWriMo buddy. Her insight on this event is her latest post here.
Anyway, hope you have a good weekend. I will be spending the remainder of mine catching up on here, planning characters/plots, and reviewing movies! Oh, and hopefully writing an almost-humorous post about my babysitting adventure today.
~Always~

An update

2009-10-19T09:58:00.000-04:00

It's been forever....
Okay, maybe not forever. Maybe that's my tendency to exaggerate, and maybe I'm just insane. I don't know. I know I was crazy busy yesterday, and that I took the PSAT (Preparatory SAT) last Wednesday, went to my first and hopefully last volleyball game Thursday, and that some other stuff happened the past few days, like a brisk wind, and I also know that this sentence is way too long.
So. How about some pictures?

(hist. society sometime this fall)

A train ride at a small canal town.

Four miles. Forty-five minutes.

My friend Katelin went with us. She doesn't know I put this picture of her on here. :) But it's okay, she was trying to get a picture of me the whole time.

So I think I'll write after I clean Leo's cage. Been thinking about getting another hamster, but from how I've procrastinated this weekend cleaning Leo's cage, it might not be a good idea.

The scan of the day seems to be dead. Should I resurrect it? Comment if you think so. Comment if you think not. Comment if you are completely unopinionated. Comment if you haven't commented in a while. Comment if God loves you! Trick question. God loves everybody. Hah! Now you have to comment!

~Always~

You Can't Take It With You

2009-09-27T16:11:00.000-04:00

IMDb listing

This was as sweet as the cake I was eating while watching it. Gotta love Netflix online movies.

This one, starring Jean Arthur, Lionel Barrymore, and James Stewart was made in 1938. It is a sweet, entertaining, refreshing romp. An eccentric family lives "as the lilies of the feild," doing what they love. The beautiful granddaughter works as a secretary for the Kirby bank, and falls in love with the son of the president. This is only the premise, and the plot moves at a perfect speed.

Definetly a five in my book. Very, very good if you're not adverse to a black and white classic.

~Always~

Lyric

2009-09-15T20:04:00.000-04:00

07. (Everybody's Gotta) Song To Sing
by Group 1 Crew
Lyrics:
Chorus:
Everybody’s gotta song to sing
So won’t you come now and sing with me
It doesn’t really matter where you’re from or what you’ve done
Everybody’s gotta story to tell
Times we’ve tried and times we failed
So when you feel like hope is gone keep holding on
This is your song
~
I’ve seen days when my life seemed hard and absurd
All of my words died cause they never were heard, like they
Left my mouth then fell to the curb
Got trampled by life and every lesson I’ve learned
Why do good people leave this earth before their time
It hurts to see death get the best of us first
Yet I know a times comin’ when I
Will feel the breeze in my eyes
Dry my tears and fade away in the sky
I see the day my family believes God
And puts away the facade
Of being ok when I know they’re not
But I know You’re gonna take what I write
Bring this story to life for Your people tonight
~
Yo everybody has a story
And it needs to be heard
So let it play and resonate
From the hood to the burbs
Whether your sky is grey
And you, been through it all
There’s somebody on this earth
That is singing the same song.
Some one across the Pacific
Is stressed from hard labor,
Searching desperately
Cause he's in need of Savior,
Barely ever home
Ignores his kids for the paper
And you'll never know
This same tune’s being sung by your neighbor
See age doesn't matter
When life wants to fail you
When your color don't determine
Whether you’re destined for failure
We all run to the sun
And hide from the rainy weather
But we make beautiful music
When we all unite together and…
~
I know it’s been hard
To make it this far
But God knows your heart
And every need

The Clique

2009-09-13T21:43:00.000-04:00

IMDb listing
A vapid movie of vapid middleschoolers doing vapid things.
Starring a few young actresses who haven't become anything yet and aren't likely to on the basis of this movie, this one's pretty pointless. The plot is this: Massie, popular girl, is mean to Claire, new girl. They play sucessively worse tricks, until Claire predictably acts the bigger person and is nice. They end all happy-like. A two, not because of bad content, although there is slight language, mostly because it's predictable- and who really wants to relive the worst of middle school in their cinematic experience?
~Always~

America's Sweethearts

2009-09-13T20:36:00.000-04:00

IMDb listing
A rather silly, lame, don't-spend-your-time flick.
Language and vulgar humor rapidly deteriorate this from a 2 to a 1, simply because there were no redeeming points. A movie star couple pretend they're over each other when the guy dreams of killing the girl and the girl is a spawn of satan herself. The girl's sister and personal assistant falls in love with the guy, and he falls in love with her too. Marriage vows are ignored, lies are viewed as acceptable. Unnecessary waste of time.
Altogether a one. Not the best flick with John Cusack. As a matter of fact, I don't think I've seen anything with him in it I like, actually.
~Always~

Apollo 13

2009-09-06T11:04:00.001-04:00

(Well, it's here! My first movie review!)
IMDb listing
This is a saga not to be soon forgotten.
Slight language is a minus, but good family values, heart-stopping tension, and excellent acting bring this to a five.
Directed by Ron Howard, this narrative takes a detailed look at the journey of the Apollo 13. Technical termage sometimes causes confusion, but that doesn't stop the plot, and you need not worry that there are enough events to fill the two hours and twenty minutes of this movie. It is the heart-stopping tale of the sucessful failure, the second attempt at a moon landing, captained by Jim Lovell. The fact that Jim Lovell himself wrote the book that was the base for this film and was the cheif technical director leads me to beleive it is truthful.
As for the actors, they are phenomenal. Tom Hanks stars as Jim Lovell, the captain of the mission to the moon. The raw emotion with which this story is covered could not be carried out but by a talented cast. I found myself crying with Lovell's youngest daughter, sighing with the NASA engineers, and holding my breath with Jack.
~Always~

Interesting snippets

2009-09-05T17:31:00.000-04:00

When weeding my emails, I have come across several interesting ones. Of course, the mandatory cute-kids-church jokes:
~A father was at the beach with his children when the four-year-old son ran up to him, grabbed his hand, and led him to the shore where a seagull lay dead in the sand..
'Daddy, what happened to him?' the son asked.
'He died and went to Heaven,' the Dad replied.
The boy thought a moment and then said,
'Did God throw him back down?'
~One particular four-year-old prayed,
'And forgive us our trash baskets as we forgive those who put trash in our baskets.'
~Clever supposed church signs:
-Where will you be sitting in eternity, smoking or non-smoking?
-Try our Sundays. They are better than Baskin Robbins'.
And this, perhaps my favorite email ever (it's not a scam, I promise:)
You know that you should clean the outside of your computer screen every so often. However, did you know that you're supposed to clean the inside of the screen, too? Not many people know this or how to do it. So, here's a complimentary cleaning. Click here.
In other interesting news, I found that I can hear better in my left ear.
Signing off!
Carrie
~Always~

More than A FULL YEAR AGO!!! From 1/1/08

2009-08-31T20:41:00.001-04:00

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!!

I hope you all have a wonderful 2008.

Movies I'd like to see in 2008:

Copying Beethoven

The Dead Poets Society

Happily N'Ever After

The Great Debaters

In the Name of the King: A Dungeon Seige Tale

~We went to the movie store, the only thing that brought this on.

~Always~

This one's from 11/18/08!

2009-08-31T20:39:00.000-04:00

Today the homeschool choir sang the song I arranged! It was SWEET to hear the notes I so carefully chose emanating from others! We will sing it at our concert on Dec. 9, 2008.
~Always~

another old draft... STUPID BLOGGER WON'T LET ME CUT AND PASTE!!!

2009-08-31T20:38:00.000-04:00

Finally found this awesome youtube video:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KpcgRlXe40k

I've been looking for it since Christmas, when it was featured on Google Docs.

~Always~

little bitty update

2009-08-31T20:37:00.002-04:00

This is something I meant to post a while ago...
Michael Franti and Spearhead: Say Hey (kudos to KATIE! Keep us updated while you're at college with all the great new music, my sistera!) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eoaTl7IcFs8
Best Lego stop motion of the day: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0_15G_tIl38&feature=related

This post is...

2009-08-30T20:18:00.003-04:00

an introduction to my newest posting series, to keep me posting during the school year. I'm going to rate most of the movies I have seen, on a scale as follows:
1~Do not even look this up on Netflix. It's really not worth it. As in, this movie is so bad you wish I'd never even said the name. As in, I probably didn't watch the whole thing through. This is a one, the worst movie rating possible.
2~Rare and far-between good points to the movie, but vulgarity and/or language make this a not-worth-while watch. A two.
3~An alright movie. It won't add anything to your day, but opposed to doing something less useful (is there anything?) it might be good. A three.
4~A good movie. One of those movies with a plot, or characters, or acting, good to such an extent that it overrides the bad factors. A should-see. Four.
5~This is the best possible rating. If movies acheive this, they are in the superlative category. Rates a five.
Look forward to this! I'm excited to see what your opinions are: if you agree, disagree, or wish more info. I will provide a brief teaser including good points to watch for if the movie rates a four or five (or high three.) And if it's bad, I'll have a word, phrase, or sentence to aleviate your curiosity so you won't waste the time I did.
Also: A couple people asked about the blog-rating-thing. Here's a link to the website, which I found through Limer's blog. http://www.oneplusyou.com/bb/blog_rating

Also also: et means and in Latin. In the future, instead of PS, I will use ET.

Et: I've been posting archives this evening. Mostly because it's a pet peeve of mine to see the little orange "Draft" after the post name in the edit posts tab. Thanks for bearing with me!

~Always~

I guess it's a good thing...

2009-08-30T20:16:00.000-04:00

~Always~

2009-08-29T14:28:00.001-04:00

More than 20? Hah. I'm following sixty-one blogs.
Yeah. Kind of shocked me too.
~Always~

Drivving

2009-08-27T08:15:00.000-04:00

I have had my permit for a week.
I have driven four hours.
I have driven a doughnut in the parking lot.
I have done an emergency stop.
I have gone above forty-five miles per hour.
I have been flicked off.
And I'm getting slowly better.
But I still hit lots of imaginary cars when I practice parking.

SO

2009-08-22T10:29:00.000-04:00

Back in Canaan the future looked rough (chachacha) Jacob's family was finding it tough (chachacha) ect. For those of you who didn't listen to hours of the Joseph's Multicolored Dream Coat musical in your youth, that was a quote, which comes to my mind every single time I hear the word 'so'.
Anyway. The purpose of this post is indestinct at this time. I drove yesterday in a parking lot! It was much fun.
So, as we approach the school year (with quickening speed: I begin Monday) I question exactly where I want to go. What is the purpose of school? To educate me for my future. What do I want to do with that future? I have no idea. So what is the purpose of school? I have no idea.
But, for proper time management (which I have been struggling with lately) I need to sort out my priorities.
~Time with God.
~Loving my family.
~Loving those I come in contact with.
~Contacting people to love.
~Practicing those skills I wish to have.
I have not been living this way.
One of the triggers for the fourth item in my priority list is this: I find that I am alarmingly cut off from fellow bloggers. I have been "following" many blogs, my list is probably greater than twenty, I haven't counted. But the thing is, I went to one of the blogs I follow today, and I found that blogger has not notified me of the posts in the last three months. That means, in effect, that I'm missing stuff. That there are large, important posts going right through my radar. And frankly, that's alarming. I love you guys! I want to read every word your eager fingers type. So, I'm going to think of a method not to miss a thing.
~Always~

I'M PERMITTED

2009-08-20T10:42:00.004-04:00

TO LEGALLY DRIVE ON ROADS! But only with a parent or legal guardian over the age of twenty one in the seat beside me. OH WELL! I GET AN AWESOME STUDENT DRIVER STICKER FOR THE CAR!

So... Please answer the poll. No, it doesn't have any reason or anything like that. It's just kind of to let me know how many of my followers (WHO DON'T ALWAYS COMMENT) are reading this.

Oh, and I'm going to try to write more, and school will be starting soon, so I think that my posting may be even farther in between.

Also: This is a cool event from a blog I read. I might participate in the Robin Hood post category. Check it out.

Post: http://amandabethonline.blogspot.com/2009/08/maid-marians-wardrobe-medieval-fashion.html

Banner:

2009-08-16T10:56:00.000-04:00

Poker Face

~Always~

So, which creative hobbies do you practice?

2009-08-12T15:36:00.000-04:00

You answered. For posterity, we will note that:
writing informative or nonfiction~1 (9%)
writing fiction~2 (18%)
writing poetry~3 (27%)
drawing~4 (36%)
painting on traditional surfaces~2 (18%)
sculpting~1 (9%)
interior decorating~0 (0%)
writing blog posts or other cyberupdates~7 (63%)
sewing~3 (27%)
quilting~1 (9%)
miniatures~2 (18%)
playing an instrument~5 (45%)
writing music~3 (27%)

It is interesting to note that the second most popular hobby is playing an instrument, a practice nearly half my readers participate in. And almost as many write music.

The most important, obviously, is writing blog posts and updates, which is as it should be. Because most visitors to my blog have blogs of their own. In fact, it's curious that not all of you voted yes.

Other popular answers were sewing, drawing, and writing poetry. Perhaps this is ordinary, but it is pleasant. I should dearly like to see some of your sewing, drawing, or poetry. If you have something phenomenal, please email it to annedecrees@gmail.com and I will look at it, consider it, and write back to you about it.

Your blogger,

Carrie the berry

P.S. Do you like the new layout?

Please answer the new poll.

Yours!

~Always~

Pina Collada Muffins

2009-08-10T20:40:00.004-04:00

Senior 4-H Cook-Off 2009
August 4, 2009
Cake:
1 ¾ cup all-purpose flour, sifted
½ cup + 2 T. granulated sugar
1 t. baking powder
¼ t. salt
½ cup cold margarine
1 egg
¾ cup light sour cream
2 t. rum extract
Filling:
½ cup crushed pineapple, drained
1 T. brown sugar
Topping:
½ cup all-purpose flour
2 ½ T. light brown sugar
2-3 T. margarine
½ cup shredded coconut
Preheat oven to 350°F. In a bowl, sift together 1 ¾ flour, ½ cup + 2 T. sugar, 1 t. baking powder, and ¼ t. salt. Cut in margarine until mixture resembles coarse crumbs.
In another bowl with a wire whisk, beat the egg, ¾ c. sour cream and 2 t. extract until smooth. Stir this mixture into the dry ingredients, just until moist. Batter will be thick.
For filling: Combine 1 T. brown sugar with pineapple.
For topping: Combine flour and sugar in a small bowl; cut in margarine until crumbly. Stir in coconut.
Place paper baking cups in a 12-muffin pan approximately 10” by 13” in size. Fill each baking cup half full of batter. Divide the pineapple filling evenly between muffin cups. Swirl gently. Cover with the remaining batter. Sprinkle with topping. Bake at 350°F. for 30-35 minutes or until muffins test done. Cool.
~Yield: 12 regular size muffins
~Preparation time: 35 minutes
~Baking time: 30-35 minutes
This recipe takes forever to make, but the muffins are really good. I was in the Senior Cook off, the two of us who showed up, anyway, and I got first.
Here are some tips I accumulated:
~Pastry blenders really help. And I mean really. It is an investment you will see the results of the first time you have to "cut margarine" in.
~mini muffins take almost as long.
~Regular muffins usually take 35 minutes.
~You get more muffin if you don't use the papers.
~In a pinch, you can mix the filling in with the batter and pour it into the muffin cups.
~Also in a pinch, you can refrigerate dough.
~Always~

Queen Anne

The Important Reveal

*SUSPENSE*

3 reasons I'm going to be a Disney villianess

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Best Book Title, week 3: The Marshmallow Incident

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Quality of NaNoWriMo writing

Best Book Title, week 2: The Nutquacker

Progress update: NaNo '11

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Best Book Title, week 1: King Hugo's Huge Ego

National Novel Writing Month 2011

The Map

A thought on stories from G.K. Chesterton

Letter to my hero, Dan Boone:

Alas,

Update, despite the fear of the white box

Learning is FUN! And animated.

ALTERRA and the SOUTHERN LANDS

Square dancing

It's really not fair

Summer and tidbits

Pillowcases

Day the sixth

Days the second, third, fourth, and fifth

Day the first: of little sleep and much Mountain Dew

And so it begins.

Grook on Long-Winded Authors

There are few things like the smell of newly cut grass

Things I will do tomorrow

Promenade 2011: By the Hour

rain

Not how you're supposed to spend Easter

What I did today

Promenade 2011

Standardized Tests

Vocabulary saga, ep. 3

College

The Vocabulary Saga, ep. 2

Modern day Saul/Paul?

The Vocabulary Saga, ep. 1

Creation

As per your request, amici mei (my friends)

Scan of the Day 30

To entertain you, of course

What I've heard today

Foundation and impossible quality of the debate on abortion

Group project

So. Procrastination.

winter

Connections

Rory, the first chronicle

School: the ins and outs

Morbid preoccupation

Correspondence

Reworking a modern dinosaur

I write like a guy

DIY notebooks

Happy Easter Vigil!

Made my day. :)

PAGES feature!

A business idea and a bit of rambling

a couple of quotes

Short story: The Amalgam

I'm on the tube of you...

Philip II of Spain - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Veritas

The view from my anthill

Drive-by movie reviews

Lyric Project

Advice and music

The letter

Quake!

A poem from a while ago

Happy Boxing Day 2009!

NaNoWriMo

Updates, under topic

Bedtime Stories

NaNoWriMo

SUSPENSE