captivelark♥

2011-09-30T07:36:00.000-07:00

It's been a while, general world of blogginess.
And it's going to be longer.
I no longer like it here. I no longer like this blog or the person it makes me out to be. It will exist here, I suppose, as a monument to a person who I no longer am.
If you want to talk, you can find me at this tumblr.

SO MUCH LOVE FOR THIS PLAY

2010-08-29T10:23:00.001-07:00

Marat/Sade.

Amazing.

That is all.

and this is where i spend my days

2010-06-09T09:33:00.001-07:00

this is where i live.

that? glee poster. true blood poster. random notebook pages.

i collect penguins. and i'm not unhealthily obsessed with noel fielding. not at all.

that is my list of amazingness. It includes such people as Jamie Campbell Bower, Jonathon Groff and James Marsters, so you know it's good. And those are my drawings ¬_¬.

the top does actually say my name, btw ;).

why yes, that is an autographed picture of james marsters. be jealous.

i actually have way more books then this, they're just hidden behind mountains of stuff.

my windowsill. i have lots of pot dolls, i just didn't bother with a picture. why yes, i have a lot of stuff. and those are my lip rings, randomly on top of a chest of drawers.

this is my keyboard. no, i'm not very good. no, i can't read music. yes, i can play a few songs. that piece of paper has something or other written on it. and yes, that is a penguin. i collect them, remember?

this is where my posts actually come from. notice the random pokemon on top of it? yeah, i'm cool.

Piercing #3!

2010-06-05T10:31:00.000-07:00

I should stop now.

Yesterday;

2010-03-29T04:55:00.000-07:00

I cut a fringe back into my hair and went to see Alice In Wonderland again in my Red Queen shirt and my Mad Hatter locket.

Ask Me Anything!

2010-03-18T09:40:00.000-07:00

http://www.formspring.me/captivelark

ask me anything :)

lists

2010-02-06T06:36:00.000-08:00

I like making lists. I like organizing things and making lists and remembering things, even if I'm not very good at keeping things tidy. I make lists of my favourite films and books and artists and photographers. So I decided to share some of my lists with you.

BOOKS

The Picture of Dorian Grey - Oscar Wilde

Les Miserables - Victor Hugo

The Rose and the Beast - Francesca Lia Block

Interview With The Vampire - Anne Rice

Let The Right One In - John Ajvide Lindquvist

Alice In Wonderland - Lewis Carroll

Coraline - Neil Gaiman

A Little Princess - Frances Hodgson Burnett

Little Women - Louisa May Alcott

The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini

FILMS

Labyrinth

Repo! The Genetic Opera

The Lost Boys

Interview With The Vampire

Phantom of the Opera

Sweeney Todd

The Breakfast Club

The Rocky Horror Picture Show

Ella Enchanted

Enchanted

PHOTOGRAPHERS/ARTISTS

Victoria Frances

Eleanor Hardwick

Cris Ortega

M. Alice LeGrow

Alexandra Hager

not really a professional per se, but my friend jess takes amazing photographs (www.flickr.com/marmarmarmy)

Eugenio Recuenco

childhood films

2010-02-05T09:10:00.001-08:00

I'm feeling rather ill at the moment. To cheer myself up, I watched some old childhood favourite movies.

I watched Labyrinth.

And The Swan Princess.

And Legend.

I always feel like a child when I have to stay home from school and do nothing for days and days and days. These all used to be my favourite films when I was a little girl!

snakebites

2010-01-31T11:19:00.000-08:00

I got snakebites yesterday. What do y'all think?

evil

2010-01-26T11:11:00.000-08:00

I take delight in the antiheroes of literature.
Lestat, Dorian Gray, Montparnasse; none are villains as such, but none are really the heroes of their respective pieces (even if Lestat likes to play at being the hero. He is not a hero at heart). I can't help but be charmed by the evil.
The same thing happens to me in television and movies as well; I adore Spike from Buffy: The Vampire Slayer. I prefer Damon over Stefan in both the books and television series of The Vampire Diaries. I like David from the Lost Boys more then I like any of the other characters. Just as a side note, do you notice I have a peculiar fascination with vampires? My friends notice this also.
I prefer evil over goodness, or at least I like a comfortable level of brood and angst over my goodness. I cannot like a completely good hero.

wouldn't it be fun to be dorian gray for a day?

2010-01-25T11:46:00.001-08:00

Our library has all four Twilight books and not a single copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray. It is my most favourite book in the entire world. I watched the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen on Sunday. I wish he was portrayed as blonde more often, like he's meant to be.

a hundred faces

2010-01-19T12:08:00.000-08:00

I wish I was blonde with green eyes.

glee

2010-01-12T10:20:00.000-08:00

I love Glee. I still think Mercedes is a better singer then Rachel.

brigadoon

2010-01-11T10:44:00.000-08:00

I want to live in Brigadoon.

books;

2010-01-10T11:10:00.000-08:00

I read vampire novels and then I get disappointed because they never fit my ideal of a vampire. I miss Lestat.
I read fairytales and then I am disappointed because everything is always happily ever after. I wish I was less cynical.
I read boarding school books and get disappointed because everything everything everything is about fashion and popularity and trying to fit in. I miss St Clares.
I should read more.

all girls are princesses

2010-01-09T08:31:00.000-08:00

I have always, and I think I will always, want to be a princess.

recipe for making cakes

2010-01-09T08:18:00.000-08:00

Recipe for making cakes:
1. Cupful of joy.
2. Three spoonfuls of fairy dust.
3. Half a cup of knowledge.
4. Two cupfuls of love.
5. A sprinkling of friendship.

Mix all together in a large bowl. When smooth, put in the cupcake cases.
Leave to cook for ten to twenty minutes, or until you feel they're ready.

For decoration:
1. Sugar hearts
2. Rose petals.
3. Diamonds.
5. Icing

When decorated, share with good friends.

snow♥

2010-01-09T08:08:00.000-08:00

I like snow the best when nobody has walked in it, and it's plain white and soft. I went outside yesterday and in some places it came up to my knees! Sometimes I think inside my heart I am still only five years old. The girl in the photos is named Billie. We didn't want to go outside after school and we stayed inside the library when we got let out; so by the time we were sent home the fields and playgrounds were untouched and white. I wish I had photos of that to show you.

letters

2010-01-07T09:56:00.000-08:00

I should like a penpal. There's such romanticism in receiving a handwritten letter from somebody; pretty stationary and pink ink and a envelope addressed solely to you. It's nice to know that some art forms aren't quite dead. I should write faithfully every time I was sent a letter and send gifts on birthdays and Christmas.

ballet shoes

2010-01-07T09:14:00.000-08:00

I read Ballet Shoes a long time ago.

Petrova was my favourite; tomboy and oils and being different. Now I identify more with Pauline; hollywood and dreams and being a star. I was never much of a dancer; Posie's actress is adorable, but I was never really her.

If I were Pauline I don't think I'd ever have wanted to have stopped being Alice.

when i grow up

2010-01-07T09:03:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I find myself wishing I could stay seven years old forever. I worry about growing older, and I worry about staying the same. Sometimes I think that I am slowly regressing back into childhood; frothy peach dresses and hello kitty and hairbows. I'd like to keep a little piece of little me with me forever. I shall have jelly and pineapples for dessert and I shall try and be who I want to be.

When I was seven years old I wanted to be a prima ballerina. I collected dolls and Angelina Ballerina toys and dressed Angeline and Alice up in all of their fairy-tale clothes like real people. I remember my grandmother refused to call them by their names and called them "the little brown mouse" and "the little white mouse". I still have them all in a box somewhere. I collected them religiously.

I used to sit in my bedroom and put on the videos and try and dance along.

I should like to revisit my childhood some day.

how is it you sing?

2010-01-06T10:27:00.000-08:00

Johanna is my favourite. Yellow hair and delicate pearls and singing birds and old-fashioned embroidery. What I would give to be a soprano.

2009-11-14T04:53:00.000-08:00

My blog needs a complete overhaul.
I am going to do it, eventually. I need a new banner, and a new layout; though I love this one, I think I may be getting sick of it. I hate not having the skill to make layouts like this myself, but I suppose we all are not good at some things.
In other news, I have become obsessed with Spring Awakening;

There are no words.

2009-10-23T11:24:00.001-07:00

Sometimes, there are no words.
And that is why I read Les Miserables slash.

NaNoWriMo

2009-10-11T11:29:00.000-07:00

So, I finally have a NaNo plot, after tearing my hair out for weeks and weeks waiting to get a suitable idea, Les Miserables has kick-started me into an idea.
So basically, we have this Alternate Universe scenario where some mad Edwardian scientist has created robots way before their time and Earth has attracted the attention of some aliens (my prologue, probably is some sort of history) fast forward to present day, where we're pretty much living steampunk-style.
My main character, Lucky (Lucette) is a beggar living on the streets and my other main characters are murderers. Somehow, a revolution against these alien beings and robot is staged. So, this is my basic plot - I have a little more work to stop it being ridiculously alike to Les Mis, but I'm happy.
This is my first year trying sci-fi and not horror.

fifty

2009-09-23T09:04:00.000-07:00

This is my fiftieth post.
It is also my first post in over a month. I fear that I am getting rather used to only updating every once or twice, and I shall do my best to update more and more often. I have, in the past month, been once to the theatre and have also restarted school.
A few weeks ago we went to see Beyond The Barricade, which is a lovely compilation of songs from the musicals (although I was rather upset when, reading reviews of it online, it transpired that quite a few of the viewers had had Evita, Sweeney Todd and Wicked in their mix). One thing I noticed in the theatre is that they had darling little binoculars for us unlucky people who had a seat closer to the back. I fell momentarily in love with the keyboard player when he came up to the front of the stage to sing Suddenly Seymour. He reminded me awfully of Russell Howard.
I have very little to say and should really think about what I put before putting it.

Wardrobes

2009-08-19T06:29:00.000-07:00

This morning I laid in bed watching Friends - sometimes it is nice to forget exactly who you are and lose yourself in another person's fictitious life. Although, it is entirely different watching Friends then reading a book, I don't mean that they are entirely the same. I began to re-read Let The Right One In, which is a disturbing but somehow charming vampire book that charts the friendship between a bullied young boy and a vampire. What I adore is, unlike so many books of it's kind, instead of the boy (Oskar) humanising the vampire (Eli) it is the vampire that humanises the boy and encourages him to stand up to the bullies. Nevertheless, I doubt if it's the safe sort of vampire book that many girls are reading nowadays.

I should like to have the wardrobe of this television show - in case you didn't know, this is Desperate Romantics, which is a show I have been meaning to watch. I should like to cross-dress with all of the lovely coats and hats. It is about the pre-Raphaelite artists.

If not, I should like to have the wardrobe of the ladies of Mad Men. I adore their elegant old-fashioned wardrobes. It would be nice to have a full, stiff skirt. I should like to live in these time periods - though I am sure I would rather be an male artist in the times of Desperate Romantics, if only for my odd tastes in clothes.

2009-08-18T04:08:00.000-07:00

It always makes me happy to log into my accounts and see messages and letters waiting for me. Somehow, it makes me feel as though I am loved after a bad day. I suppose it is the same with letters (handwritten letters, I think, are such a lovely thing to recieve! Although, I, of course, don't seem to get them very often) and messages on phones. At least it proves that somebody has been thinking about you.

Today I, again, don't plan on doing much. I think I shall just sit in my room and read and watch Red Dwarf.

This morning I watched Evita again (I meant to watch Kiss Me Kate, but I couldn't find the video. Or, I got a little bored before I managed to find it amongst my Buffy and Charmed videos) and, instead of concentrating on the story, decided to concentrate on the music and the costumes. I adore most of Eva's skirted suits and hats. Then again, I also loved the outfit that the narrator (who I believe is called Che?) wore throughout most of his songs.

I suppose I am just indecisive.

More Updates~

2009-08-17T11:24:00.000-07:00

I'm ashamed of myself for how often I forget about my little corner of the internet! My mind seems to forever be running away with me lately. This is again, a small amount of updates on my life. It seems that my life has become simply a little assortment of these sorts of blog posts!
Well, since the last time I wrote I have changed schools - whilst I do adore the people at my old school, I'm rather afraid that the one I now learn at (which was the one I originally rebuffed when I was deciding where to continue my education) seems to have performed admirably. The people are friendly, at least.
I've also done a complete overhaul on my blog - I just adore the new layout. What do you think?
I've immersed myself in photography lately so this blog may suddenly be inundated with photographs. Such is life, I suppose. We all must move on.
I was planning to go and see a film with Ellie today - unfortunately, Ellie was forced to cancel and as such we've had to reschedule it for another time! We had just started visiting some new cinemas, which are cheaped and smaller and less crowded. I plan to visit there again next time I want to see a film (which, I believe, will be when The Vampire's Assistant comes out.). It also reminded me how woefully ignorant I am of future releases - whilst there I found myself surrounded by movie posters for films I didn't even know were coming out!
I want to see Dorian Grey, I think. The poster stood out. Now I just must bring myself to finish the novel! I have it on my DS with my 100 Greatest Books (a buy that was encouraged by my father, although as all bookworms I far prefer feeling the heaviness of a book in my hands) and I believe that The Picture Of Dorian Grey is somewhere on it. At the moment I am reading Phantom Of The Opera, and I had intended to read Les Miserables after that, but I suppose that reading the original novels of musicals will have to wait.
So, today I have been slouching around the house in an oversized black shirt and jeans, watching Project Runway and messing around on the internet. I clutter up the house on days like today, but what can you do? I am not in the mood to be outside. In fact, I did get one constructive thing done today - I finally finished watching Evita. It's such an oddly tragic story. My favorite songs are 'A New Argentina' and 'Goodnight and Thank You'. Tomorrow I think I shall watch Kiss Me Kate or Meet Me In St Louis, both films I have been putting off watching. I may also try and finish watching Red Dwarf, which is another project I embarked upon this summers holiday.
Still, I suppose I have to save something for the rest of the holidays!

Prologue

2009-06-11T11:41:00.000-07:00

Prologue
My family have a secret.
A secret so intense and strange that I’m forbidden to talk about it to people I know. Or people I don’t know, for that matter. I think they’re both pretty much the same on the ‘don’t talk to them’ scale.
Anyway, I’m sure that if I could explain this secret to people, they might understand me a little better.
Alas, I can’t.
It’s not that I don’t like feeling special and having this secret and all that jazz, but I would prefer it if every day wasn’t peppered with visits to the head’s office. She wouldn’t be half as hard on me if she knew my family’s secret. She’d be terrified – she’d probably run a mile. Wouldn’t that make my life a whole lot better? I mean, there would be no-one to come down way too hard on me for one.
Unfortunately, there are two reasons I will not be revealing this secret any time soon. The first is my family – as much as I would like to get out of detentions, as much as I would enjoy seeing people cower in fear at my feet, I don’t want them to be persecuted for something I may reveal. Family’s a pretty integral part of life. I don’t much fancy living without them. The second is them.
You see, my father is James Fleetwood. That doesn’t mean much to you – or other people. He’s the editor of a small local paper. I can’t say the local paper. There are three or four of that kind of paper in Ilchester. In case you’re not keeping up properly, that’s the town I live in. All of the papers are in competition with each other. I don’t know who’s winning, but we’ve got a bigger house since Dad became editor. He’s doing pretty well.
My father’s newspaper is one of the very few places in Ilchester where vampires and humans can work together in harmony.
You heard me. Vampires.
Okay, so they’re an overdone cliché by now. Everyone’s written a vampire book, everybody produces a vampire TV show; vampires are definitely suited to having their own musical. They’re a marketing phenomenon. After all, what could be more sexy and romantic then having white hot fangs shoved into your neck? All vampires are ridiculously hot, anyway! Right?
Unfortunately, they’re very much a part of my life.
I think I first realized that vampires existed when my father came home from a business meeting with vampire bites on his neck. He was confused and listless and I was terrified.
That was when my dad was working in accountancy. After that day, he had a completely different outlook on life. He quit his job and bought a small office in the centre of town. He told my mother and me he was going to fulfil a childhood dream of his; the Ilchester Mail was born.
“You never know when you might be bitten by a vampire!” he joked at the time. It was not a very funny joke, but we laughed all the same. I’m not sure how he came about collecting all of these vampires to work for him, or how he explained everything to the humans. Suffice to say, he soon had a very eager work force. The paper had been in existence for almost a year when my story begins. Dad liked to celebrate every little achievement. He was aiming for three hundred issues next.
He adapted well to his new situation.
I, however, did not.
Somehow the sudden integration of vampires in my life turned me into everything I’d never been. I was always the fat, quiet, shy girl in the corner with her head buried in a book. I’m still fat (spare me the self-image talk) but I didn’t remain quiet or shy. I suddenly became a troublemaker; and I still am. I became unafraid to stand up, shout, fight, or chew gum in class. That’s just the way I adapted to my new situation.
I’m glad I became that way now. It changed my life.
It all started a rainy Monday afternoon, after school. I was stretched out luxuriously on the three chairs reserved for those about to be summoned into the head’s office. They were remarkably comfortable chairs. They had originally been intended for parents who needed to see the headmistress. I don’t think they were designed for the designated school troublemaker to take a nap on. It didn’t matter – after all, I already had many times.
I had already visited that office once today, to receive the customary ‘we expected better of you’ speech. My parents had been called in and I was waiting for them to come back out.
It was just probably another detention. I got them all the time. I found it a little unfair that I had already been out there for half an hour and now I was about to be forced to do another half-hour stint.
As if on cue, a bunch of the bad-girl types in my year burst out from one of the doors where they had no doubt been serving their detention sentence. You probably know the type – the sort who throws wild parties and drinks and smokes on the school site. The ones who do all this and yet always look enviably glamorous and lovely. If I had been much lighter, I’d probably have been the ideal candidate for the gang. I thanked my lucky stars I wasn’t.
After all, those girls always have to look impeccably groomed and hang around the bike sheds with their cigarettes clutched between their fingers. I had hair that would never behave, nails always covered in chipped varnish and I coughed my guts out at the whiff of smoke. I didn’t think I could inhale any from a stick I’d have to have almost constantly in my hands.
I didn’t have many friends. I was used to it. I always comforted myself with the fact that my friends were stalwart, trustworthy people. I could depend on them in a crisis. The same could not be said for those girls.
I braced myself as they walked past me.
“Oh,” a pretty blonde girl stopped as she saw me, “have you grown so fat you need three seats?”
“Oh! I’m glad to see your liposuction worked, Raquelle. I see they haven’t quite fitted you in for that boob job, have they?” I’m glad to see she looks outraged. “It must be so very hard for you with a pancake chest. Perhaps that’s why Blaine dumped you?” Raquelle’s lips pursed in annoyance and she flounced away.
“That was pretty low, Hunter.” One of the girls said, a black-haired bespectacled girl with a nervous disposition. I never really saw how she got accepted into the gang. She was sweet compared to the rest of them.
“I have it on good authority that you have no evidence I did anything.” I told her, and closed my eyes. “Now leave me alone to wallow in my misery.”
When I looked again she was gone.
Hunter. That’s my name. Hunter Pamela Fleetwood. My parents chose the name they wanted to call me and flipped a coin to see who got the first name and who got the middle name. In case you couldn’t tell, my father won.
Thanks a lot, Dad.
Hunter is a boy’s name.
I hadn’t actually done that bad a thing today. At least, not bad compared to some other stunts I’d pulled. I think the most memorable was climbing up the side of the school building with a very small year seven who insulted me tossed over my shoulder. I am stronger then I look. I left him there. Boy, did I get some detention time for that. Still, it was all for the best. That kid never bothered me again and he didn’t have to endure any more pain.
No. All I did this time was start one measly little fight that didn’t even end with a cut. A few bruises, maybe, but nothing serious. It’s nothing compared to the kid whose leg I broke.
That was one awesome fight.
The door to the office swung open and my parents were ushered out, both looking a little confused and annoyed. My father was clutching in his hand what I presumed was a detention slip, and my mother was just blinking as they emerged from the shadows of the office into the fluorescent lights of the corridor.
“Thank you, Mr Fleetwood. Desperate measures, you know. We can’t have her in here while there are hardly any other students around, you know. Can be such a bully to the younger kids.”
Huh.
Lot of nerve she had. More of the year sevens and eights were far more terrified of her then they were of me. Not that they weren’t scared of me. They were.
I mean, I’m terrifying. It’s good and sensible of them to be terrified of me. I would be. If that makes any sense at all (which it did in my head).
I abruptly realized what had just been said. Surely they weren’t going to expel me? It sounded like it wasn’t going to be a permo, but I hate staying home. It is beyond boring.
It’s just like I hate being ill. I’ve skipped school more times then I have pretended to be ill. Lazing around in bed all day is just such a drug. As is the acting part, which can really drain you of energy.
“Don’t . . . mention it.” My father mumbled to the head as he motioned for me to get up. Figuring I might as well get a final dig in, I waved to the head as I left.
“Toodles!”
It wasn’t until dinner I found out what had been going on. I had a spoonful of a soup when my father suddenly became all nervous and spluttery. This was always a sure sign that we were about to receive some important news.
“Yes, well, as I’m sure you know your head mistress called us into her office today to discuss some arrangements for the next two weeks-”
“Am I suspended?” He looked up from his soup and pushed his glasses up, surprised.
“No. . . It’s for work experience, Hunter.”
He actually sounded surprised I’d suggested I was suspended! Well, that’s a prime example of how immersed in his work he became. He was still convinced I was that shy little kid who sat in a corner dreaming.
My face fell at the news. I’d been so looking forward to spending at least a week with hardly any other kids in my year. Everyone knew you got all the easy stuff to do when you were one of a minority.
It’s true. When everyone was on school trips or visiting places I never gave in my permission slips. It was always more fun to be in a class with the trouble makers. Plus, there was no need to argue about who was sitting next to who on the bus. That’s always a really tough decision to make.
“Well, it seems that nobody seems to want to take you on with your record for causing,” he coughed embarrassedly into his handkerchief, “trouble, etc.” He paused and it began to look as though that was all he was going to be saying.
“And?”
“Your head positively begged me to take you on at the paper over the next two weeks. She thinks you’re a danger to the students, you know. . .”
“You didn’t agree!”
“It’ll be good practise for you, darling. You’re always saying you’d like to be a writer or something when you grow up.” My mother swanned in from the tanning salon looking very orange. I thought she was too tan before, but now she’s the same colour as an orange. I don’t know why she spent so much money on beautifying project. She hardly spent any time with me.
Sob.
She waved a manicured hand in my direction. “You should be glad James agreed.” With that astoundingly long (at least, for her) speech, she left the room again.
“I agreed,” he suddenly caught sight of my face, “please, Hunter! I can’t face having your headmistress against me!” My father looked so helpless and broken I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. I rolled my eyes and sighed.
I supposed I could make an exception. After all, our headmistress was terrifying. I couldn’t blame him for being scared of her. It was no more unusual for my father to be afraid then it was for my mother to be exceptionally orange.
“Sure. Whatever, Dad.”
It was probably the most enthusiastic affirmative he’d had from me in a long while. He seemed to be grinning and giving off a weird sort of happy glow as he walked around. It creeped me out, so I went upstairs.
The last thought I had as I drifted into sleep was that tomorrow I’d be starting work experience in a newspaper office with vampire workers. That would make a really good movie.

* * *

Ha. This is so different to my usual style.

This is the prologue of the novel featuring Hunter and RD. As of now, there is no RD.

Dear miss I don't know who you think you are~

2009-06-10T10:48:00.000-07:00

Dear miss I don’t know who you think you are,
It’s called caring compassion - well it has a name,
Not that you ever cared what the hell was going on,
What the hell is your problem?

You say these things (well, you tell lies),
Make these promises that you’re never going to keep,
Vows you could never keep even before,
You’re nothing but dishonesty in school uniform.

You’ve never been anything but spoiled,
Never had to do any work or had to earn anything,
Life isn’t served on a silver platter honey,
Welcome to the real world they sheltered you from.

This is all hell and nothing like my world,
You tell your adoring disciples,
Forgetting I was actually one of them (an eternity ago),
Your Judas but you’re the traitor here.

Open your eyes (but they’re glued shut with mascara, right?),
Close your mouth for once in your entire life,
Consider that you’re worse then nothing,
You think you’re loved but you’re not.

To think that I was the one who taught you these,
Words that tumble out of your mouth,
Long and clever do they make you feel clever?
Here’s something to chew on –you’re not.

You show off despite the fact you have no real talents;
Only for making us feel like we’re inferiority in human form,
Only for making us want to reconcile,
Despite the fact you’re nothing but skin-covered malice.

Newsflash; these things won’t wash in my world.
Newsflash; you’ve changed so much.
What happened to friends forever?
What happened to the everything and the anything and the nothing we shared?

Gone.
Just like your personality.
Just like all your good traits.
Just like my respect, love, whatever.
For you.

- - -

I have a friend like this. It's written for her. It's quite pathetic, actually.

Paradise

2009-06-08T11:30:00.000-07:00

In this city of fairy-lights that no longer work and statues scrawled on by people living in the past, I can glide by tiny boutiques selling perfume and giant department stores selling human souls and sweat within a minute. In this city I can pass a desperate street-kid, pale skin and terror rimmed eyes - and only moments later a businessman in a smart suit made of tears and bones.

It's funny how an impartial observer who isn't even looking can see things people who are used to the city miss. I've been here days, less then days - and yet I seem to be the only one who notices that the city is slowly sapping all the life from their bones. Sucking them dry.

The city is paradise, they told me back home. "You're lucky to escape, you can do what you always wanted to do." They told me that, but they're not here. The people who call this place Shangri La are blind to the lies of the concrete.

My paradise wouldn't be made from concrete. Concrete is cold and unfeeling like the sharp sting of a moment-old slap. Concrete is a lie told because grass is too pure for the government. Too soft for the hard souls of these city-dwellers.

If they saw my paradise, what would they think? What would they call me?

These people lied to me. I touch my hair, I touch my eyelids and run my hands over one another. Just to check if I'm real. Just to check I haven't spiralled into nonexistence with the rest of the city. Just to check that I'm not dead on the inside.

Sometimes, I don't even know anymore. Sometimes I envy people in books (even the sad books, even the horror books or the twisted ones) because yes, sometimes happy endings don't actually exist, but at least these people knew there was a life. Knew that even though they were moments from death their life would mean something and would be expressed in words. They were alive before they died.

I don't even know anymore; the concrete and the cold grey fog and the exhaust fumes from all of the gas-guzzling tin monsters rolling down the streets are taking life from me. Like I'm a perfume bottle being sprayed empty, milliletre by agonizing, excruciating milliletre. These people don't care about pain or feeling or beauty.

That explains the stories-high glass monsters staring at me with big window-pane eyes as I walk down towards the block of flats I live. That explains the crushed flowers as I try and avert my eyes from the destruction of nature all around me. That explains why I sometimes feel as though I'm actually living in the future.

That explains why sometimes I feel as though I have no soul at all.

* * *

Yep. I have too much time on my hands. Enjoy short-story time, kids.

Fluff~

2009-06-02T11:09:00.000-07:00

Obviously, I spend far too much time writing scenes then planning the whole of the series. Obviously, writing Hunter and RD makes me feel all fluffy inside - especially considering I'm not usually one for romantic relationships. Plus, vampires are always good to write.

* * *

"We're free?" He spun around to face me, his blue eyes boring into mine and pinning me into place. Funny how he can do that to me with just one glance. "That's it? No wailing alarms, no bloodthirsty organisation members on our tail? I'm sure Aelous wouldn't have made it as easy as that."

I managed to raise my eyebrows and get enough breath in my lungs to speak. I hate the way he makes me feel! Every time I see him I lose all capacity to string together coherent sentences. Sometimes I even struggle for breath when I see him. Nobody but RD has ever had this effect on me. I could murder him if I didn't actually need him.

"Maybe Aelous wasn't banking on a turncoat? Perhaps he thought Cassian would be enough to keep me contained?" The fact that Cassian terrified me probably would be enough to keep me glued in the bedroom. I'm not going to risk the wrath of a mentally unstable vampire, even if it could get me back home. I value my own life too much.

RD looked at me with perplexity colouring his sea-green eyes. Of course, this didn't detract from the fact that he was far too gorgeous to be mortal. The all-too-human expression just seemed to emphasize his supernaturality even more. He ran a hand too graceful to be mortal through his blonde curls and frowned minutely for less then a moment, before a smile suddenly cracked his face. Unfair that you had to become a monster to look so angelic.

"Cassian couldn't have kept you contained for too long, Hunter. You're too much of a fighter." I took that as a compliment. Better to be a fighter then weak. "Still, even if that's true, it doesn't stop it being odd."

"I suppose," I shrugged and began to walk. "I don't think staying out here for too long is that good of an idea. After all, they're sure to search around the manor before setting anyone out into the town, right?"

"I don't know," and RD smiled and came up behind me, touching my shoulder with a feather-lighy hand, "although cars are the preferred mode of transport, vampires do have. . ." I felt him move in front of me and crouch down a little until I was level with him.

His eyes were soft and gentle. I wondered how I could ever have thought that RD, of all people, was a danger to me.

"Other methods of transportation?" I asked as he grasped my shoulders and the world began to crash down around me. My eyes seemed to spin out of their sockets, and for a moment I could see the heart of the universe.

My feet touched down on solid ground again and my knees buckled. The only thing that kept me up was RD's shoulders, which I seemed to have attached myself to during the course of our journey. I tried to breathe normally.

"I see why they took you in the car." I undraped myself from RD and looked into his smiling face. Even his mocking smile was adorable. It wasn't fair.

How come humans never looked like that?

"Well, not all of us are vampires. Not all of us are used to that sort of thing!" RD looked into my eyes and smiled.

"Do you want to be?"

For the second time in less then a minute, my knees buckled and RD kept me upright. This time, though, it was for an entirely different reason.

Updates!

2009-06-01T11:37:00.000-07:00

X-Posted to Someday

Hello! I haven't written for what seems like years - but is, of course, most likely months. I seem to spend all of my time hanging around kupika and worrying. So, I suppose I have quite a few things to update you on in my world. A few of them are interesting, a few will mean nothing to you and a few will make you think I am a whiny wreck. Which, of course, I am.
Well, I've been through a half-term and am now faced with the gruelling task of returning to school and looking as though I'm enjoying it. After a week of lie-ins, wandering around town and general laziness this is definitely not going to be an improvement. It also happens to be swelteringly hot, and this makes me restless and uneasy. Such is life, I guess!
I've dyed my hair red. I like it; I didn't expect it to come out so vivid - because I have dark hair - but it is very bright (especially in light)! A few people don't like it. I've also been told by one of my friends there were a few nasty comments hanging around, but I do my best to ignore these things. I'm generally good at ignoring what people say about me. You have to have thick skin in my school corridors.
Also, I should be moving schools soon! I'm extremely unhappy where I am now for reasons I'm not going to elaborate; suffice to say, I regret going to my school as opposed to the closer one. I'm trying to transfer to that school at the moment. I have paperwork saying there are places for me, now all I need to do is go and look around the school. This is scheduled for Monday at eleven! I am both nervous and excited.
The last thing - this Wednesday, I am finally becoming a teenager! Yes, it's my birthday on Wednesday the third of June. I shall become thirteen! Unfortunately, due to ASDA's restraints, I find myself with no cake with the Graverobber's face on it. Which would have been awesome, but is, alas, impossible. Sob.
I already know quite a few of the presents I'm getting. The first is my new camera - a Sanyo, though I can't quite remember much else of it. I'm also getting a scanner, (I'll finally be able to have a DeviantART account, after almost two years of lurking) a Heidi Seeker Mystery Bag and a waistcoat. I am beyond excited!
Still, first I must battle through Tuesday. Wish me luck!

Updates

2009-06-01T11:19:00.000-07:00

Hello! I haven't written for what seems like years - but is, of course, most likely months. I seem to spend all of my time hanging around kupika and worrying. So, I suppose I have quite a few things to update you on in my world. A few of them are interesting, a few will mean nothing to you and a few will make you think I am a whiny wreck. Which, of course, I am.

Well, I've been through a half-term and am now faced with the gruelling task of returning to school and looking as though I'm enjoying it. After a week of lie-ins, wandering around town and general laziness this is definitely not going to be an improvement. It also happens to be swelteringly hot, and this makes me restless and uneasy. Such is life, I guess!

I've dyed my hair red. I like it; I didn't expect it to come out so vivid - because I have dark hair - but it is very bright (especially in light)! A few people don't like it. I've also been told by one of my friends there were a few nasty comments hanging around, but I do my best to ignore these things. I'm generally good at ignoring what people say about me. You have to have thick skin in my school corridors.

Also, I should be moving schools soon! I'm extremely unhappy where I am now for reasons I'm not going to elaborate; suffice to say, I regret going to my school as opposed to the closer one. I'm trying to transfer to that school at the moment. I have paperwork saying there are places for me, now all I need to do is go and look around the school. This is scheduled for Monday at eleven! I am both nervous and excited.

The last thing - this Wednesday, I am finally becoming a teenager! Yes, it's my birthday on Wednesday the third of June. I shall become thirteen! Unfortunately, due to ASDA's restraints, I find myself with no cake with the Graverobber's face on it. Which would have been awesome, but is, alas, impossible. Sob.

I already know quite a few of the presents I'm getting. The first is my new camera - a Sanyo, though I can't quite remember much else of it. I'm also getting a scanner, (I'll finally be able to have a DeviantART account, after almost two years of lurking) a Heidi Seeker Mystery Bag and a waistcoat. I am beyond excited!

Still, first I must battle through Tuesday. Wish me luck!

Repo!

2009-05-04T11:43:00.000-07:00

So, I've now seen Repo! The Genetic Opera. To put it bluntly, I completely adored the film - especially the costume design. Things like that make me want to work as a costume designer when I leave school - I also love Shiloh's cameo and have been drawing all of my characters wearing one recently. It wasn't quite as gory as I expected it to be - the repossessions didn't seem too bad and the part that I was afraid of watching (I won't ruin it for you here) was nowhere near as terrible as I was fearing. The only thing that made me in the slightest uncomfortable was the profanity, but I am used to hearing worse from my friends so it didn't upset me as much as it may have.

The GraveRobber is my favorite character - the same seems to go for many of the Repo! fans. My mother watched it before I did and she told me that he reminded her of Lestat - maybe that's why I like him? His hair is brilliant. I can't wait to get the DVD and see the deleted scenes! I'm ordering it very soon. . . I'm not particularly good with money - but at least it's my birthday soon. I want a giant GraveRobber poster!

I went to see Coraline yesterday - that was my first ever 3-D film, and I aren't going to lie - those glasses really hurt my eyes. The most interesting parts are when things come flying at you. That amuses me greatly - such as in one of the adverts a pair of sunglasses just came straight at you.

It was nice, though - I'd read the book and I wasn't disappointed. Also, Coraline has just come out over here so yesterday was an advance screening - they gave me a giant poster that I plan to put on the back of my door.

I have to return to school tomorrow, but at least I've still got stuff to think about. Take care, <3.

W00T

2009-05-04T09:41:00.000-07:00

So guess what?

I have a follower. Go me. Weird that it's on this blog, the one I hardly ever use, but whatever :D. I feel all proud and stuff.

So I decided to share some art with you. I'm brilliant, I know.

So, I saw Repo! The Genetic Opera the other day and I got really inspired by Shiloh's outfits. Especially that cameo.

Oh, and I totally want a Graverobber poster.

And a Repo Cake.

2009-04-29T09:09:00.000-07:00

I think I may have become a little obsessed by Repo! The Genetic Opera!

I have been listening to 'Chase The Morning' and 'Zydrate Anatomy' over and over again, after finding them with their videos. I've also got my hands on the extended soundtrack too - brilliance personified! I adore Anthony Stewart Head. I mean, he did Buffy, Doctor Who and now this brilliant film. I doubt if I'll be able to see the film for a while though - it remains, sadly, an eighteen, and I remain not eighteen. Still, I can hold out hope (just as I'm still holding out hope for Sweeney Todd).

"Let your life be your dream. . . Integrity, Honesty." It's such a beautiful song! Also, I just love the wardrobe (especially Blind Mag's!).

Today I've returned to school, and everybody seems to be fixated by Swine Flu. Whenever anybody sneezes people will shift away from them just a notch. Apparently one of our teachers, who has been on holiday in Mexico, has caught it. I somehow doubt this story - it did come from a rather dubious source, after all.

As I have said before, I do not like Wednesdays. In fact, they are my least favourite day in the week. We start with dance, then ICT, then some maths and some French. We have to round off the whole day with History! After all, I am neither a logical or technical person. My mind just does not work in such a way!

Today I seem to be overusing exclamation marks. I don't know why, but somehow all of these Repo! clips have put me in a good mood. This is . . . unusual considering I should be upset about not being able to actually see the film. But I am holding out hope! Do not think I have suddenly become even more pessimistic! I will see this film if it takes me years.

Besides, I'm quite enjoying the feeling of being a fan of something that has such a small following here in my city. Nobody seems to ever have heard of it around here. It's a sweet, enjoyable feeling.

Of course, I don't feel really happy but I believe true happiness is hard to find.

Ah well~ BYE!

Harry Potter Again~

2009-04-27T09:35:00.000-07:00

I've enjoyed myself the last few days, and completely forgotten to write in my journal! I've found myself curled up on my bed a lot reading Harry Potter, and today I started reading the Deathly Hallows. I found myself crying after the second death! I just know that I shall weep buckets closer to the end. I've always been far too emotional over books and movies. For instance, a while ago my father bought a book from the internet about a kitten abandoned in Dartmoor (called Abandoned!, if you are interested. It really is a brilliant book) and unfortunately it was full of tragic events that ended in me weeping uncontrollably! When I went to see Marley and Me with Ellie we were also both sobbing in the cinema. It was a horrible feeling!

On Sunday we watched Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. My father went home halfway through it, and we did not make it to the end but rather to the scene with the Pensieve in which Barty Crouch Junior is being tried. It's hard to shake the image of David Tennant in the TARDIS when watching it! It's a very odd image to have whilst watching Harry Potter.

Coincidentally, I now relate everything to the wizard! It's a terrible thing to do, but I cannot help myself. I've been thinking about it all day and one day I am going to let it slip to one of my teachers. That would be quite embarassing, but not at all unusual for me. My favorite characters are the Weasley twins - I just adore all of their practical jokes and I wish I had the courage (and the magic) to imitate them at my school. I also adore the Marauders, but not quite as much as Fred and George.

I don't have much to say today, unfortunately! I hope I'll be back again tomorrow with more to say!

Wednesdays~

2009-04-22T10:25:00.000-07:00

Well, I must say that it's not been too good of a day. I hate Wednesdays at the best of times, but today has almost outdone itself. At least I still have solace in other things - and also in that Thursdays are not quite as bad as Wednesdays! Also, tomorrow is one of the Year 8 trips and as such quite a lot of my class will be away. It's always more fun in a half-empty classroom. Hardly any work ever occurs - because of, you know, half the class missing.
The first lesson of a Wednesday is always dance - which I despise. I hate how small our changing rooms are, how the light in the girl's changing rooms still doesn't like and how we are forced to perform our dance at the end no matter how much we don't want to. The highlight of a dance lesson is usually leaving, although I do remember one dance lesson when we were stuck with a cover teacher. There was also a half-flat ball which was thrown between all of the boys. It was amusing, although now I realize this sounds cruel, to watch the cover teacher fruitlessly lunge towards the ball. She eventually caught it, although this was after it had been slid between her feet and over her head many times.
ICT bores me no end. I miss our old teacher, but this isn't the time to talk about that again. I seem to have gotten into a slum during these lessons, because they go so slowly and I am so used to using Dreamweaver that everything seems to be suspended in time in between!
Well, I have reached five thousand words for my novel. Coincidentally, my novel's Work In Progress title is Prey. Obviously that's a ridiculously clever play on words because the main character is named Hunter. Or not.
I have got to Chapter Four. I will need to go back and fill in some more cracks and that will bore me even more. Oh well. Such is life.

High School Never Ends

2009-04-21T09:35:00.000-07:00

I had to return to school today! It's hard to adjust to getting up early and understanding a mass of ridiculous numbers when you're used to lazing around under blankets until eleven and staying in your comfortable pyjamas. At least, it is for me. You have no idea how much I was yawning this morning when I finally dragged myself out of my bed.

I kept being sure I was going to put something on the wrong way or wear the wrong clothes. I was terrified I was going to get to school and realize that I was wearing my slippers or hadn't brushed my hair. Thankfully, I didn't.

I have spent a while today listening Bowling For Soup. My favorite song is 1985, because weirdly enough I recognise more references in that!

I'm so sorry for my ridiculously short entry, but my parents are watching things on eBay so I can't really say much!

Ideas~

2009-04-20T06:17:00.000-07:00

People always ask writers, or even people who want to write, where they get their ideas from. I've never been asked, which is a pity because I have an answer all set up.
My imaginary demon husband Bob gives me ideas.
Sometimes I'll wake up in the middle of the night because I can hear his voice in my head. I can never get to sleep after that. I just need to write and get what I've been told down on paper or I'll completely forget it.
Just in the same way some people answer "I buy them from a little old lady who lives around the corner." If that little old lady was real I'm sure there would be a queue of desperate writers waiting for little slips of paper with ideas on.
I miss many sites. The first internet site I ever went on was kiddoNet, way before it had nearly been taken over by Girlsense. Back then it was a brilliant place filled with bright colours and you could do everything without having to be registered to both sites. That was when I was six. Coincidentally, it was 2001 when I first joined neopets. That must make me a really ancient member. Unfortunately I have now lost that account forever, and my second account is an under-thirteen account with no COPPA forms so I cannot contact anyone. The only virtual pet site I have now is a grophland, which was a trend amongst people in my form in year seven. Of course, everyone was on it at dinners and during ICT lessons.
Now, however there is only a small list of sites we are able to access on our school. I think there is a petition going around to combat this; as of course it should be. The ICT teacher who kindly let us into her classroom at dinnertimes is also gone, which was a real blow to my friend and I who were very fond of her and spent many dinnertimes in the ICT pod. She was also an Anne Rice fan and ran the ICT Writer's Club. We all miss her very much.
Today is my last day of freedom before I am forced to return to school tomorrow. So far I have slept, written a chapter (that I really, really hate) and listened to music. Nightwish, mainly. Which reminds me that I need to listen to Delain's new album.
I'm going to go visit my grandma now, so I shall stop typing. Bye bye~

Vampire Summaries~

2009-04-18T06:53:00.000-07:00

I am writing in notepads a lot more nowadays. I have in the last two days bought two notebooks and filled them. In fact, what I have done in these two notebooks (I hope) will provide me with the material I need for my novels. I have, for the first time ever, chapter outlines. Plans for my novel. For once, I will not be going into one of my many projects completely cold. I hope that the fact I have these outlines will mean I'll be able to finish a novel. I will not be stuck as to what could possibly happen next. I do not have a title for either of my two prospective novels. I have, however, decided which one to start with.

This is set in a world where vampires are very real, if not very well-known. The main character is fifteen year old Hunter, whose father James is the editor of a local daily newspaper. This newspaper is one of the very few places where vampires and humans can work in relative harmony. Now, Hunter is very much the trouble-maker of her school - after one more stint in detention and aone more parents - headteacher meeting, James accidentally agrees to let Hunter intern for the two weeks her year is meant to be doing work experience.

Of course, all is never that easy. Hunter adapts easily to life in the office, and makes good friends with two of the human employees - theatre critic Lucas and Jarred, who reviews books. Of course, there are also some people she's not so fond of - Alexei, an assistant editor who just doesn't seem to care, and Calvin, a really very creepy vampire who writes a column. Ah well. That, however, is not Hunter's main problem.

There are certain vampires who don't think vampires and humans should coexist. They think that vampires are, as a whole, a lot more awesome and brilliant then humans. They think that the vampires who do work with humans are traitors to their kind. Hunter's father's newspapers is the personification of everything they hate.

When they kill one of the staff, though, everything kicks off and the vampires become worried and the humans even more so. When most of the employees go to have a celebratory dinner for their one thousandth edition, they leave Alexei, Calvin and Hunter alone to wrap up the evening's work. As for what happens next? Well, I'm not that far in yet.

Writing Fairytales and Vampire Stories

2009-04-17T08:36:00.000-07:00

I find that I constantly move from one place to another; flitting like a honeybee towards another flower. Perhaps that's too sweet an image for me. I cannot stay still. I am like a restless child. Yes, that is far more me.

Sometimes I find that I am still stuck in yesterday. I can see things in windows of shops and adore them, only to be told they stopped selling them years ago when I ask. I may be seeing what was then as opposed to what is there now. I am that way.

I have moved here from Sugar Frosted Mayhem. I want to be sweet and act like a little girl and maintain a gloriously lovely blog, but the secret eludes me. I think I may be over compensating by flitting around too much.

The easter holidays have been lovely, I have been able to get away from the world and sit and write. For the last week I have found myself craving the physical comfort of seeing words on paper instead of a computer screen. Paper always feels so much more solid then pixels on my monitor, which have an insubstantial quality that makes me think they will flit away at any moment.

I spent all of today covering my notebooks in quotes and searching for pens, and writing over and over and over because I cannot seem to get a few simple pieces of dialogue right. Already my characters despise me and I equally hate them, yet I am clinging to them because I don't want to be left alone. I want to be able to write vampires - but I am constantly mocked by the overabundance of them.

I want to write fae the same way I did when I was nine years old, gone past seeing them as thumb-sized perfect human beings but not quite far enough to imagine them as monsters - I was to rewrite the perfect ethereal creatures in layers and layers of tulle murmuring into the blanket of night and sewing cloth stars into the night. Yet such description makes me feel wrong. I cannot help but feel the physical entrapment of publishing.

I wish I could write for pleasure like I used to. Some writers grow cynical and say writing is just a job to them, whilst some adore it. I want to adore it again. I don't want to think "would this get published?" I just want to write.

I am starting to sound awfully full of whines, so I shall stop now and merely hope for the rest of the day. I leave you with what I must confess is my favorite quote I found today. "If I don't write to empty my mind, I go mad." - Lord Byron.

I must confess I believe I am already mad.

Yo thar :)

2009-03-24T12:36:00.000-07:00

Seeing as I've been making an AWFUL LOT of book review posts and that's pretty much all of what I have, I'm going to use THIS as my personal blog and also have a book review blog. Hopefully it'll be easier to keep THIS blog updated regularly. Toodles~

Book Review - Ginger Snaps

2009-02-21T08:58:00.000-08:00

Ginger Snaps - Cathy Cassidy

I saw an advertisement for this book yesterday in my magazine, saying it was new, and I just thought "Hey, I've read this . . ." So I'm going to review-ify now! You see, my library are just brilliance personified in that they had this book a few months ago and I borrowed it. All Hardbacky and ribbony, it was AWESOME.
Basically, it all centres on Ginger, who used to be puppy fat and pigtails and has grown up into hair straighteners, make-up etc. - and her best friend Shannon! Then, Shannon befriends Emily and it all goes downhill from there! Plus, an odd saxophone playing boy in a trilby. . . Yes, I did go out and buy a trilby after reading it. Is that so bad?
It all seems pretty straightforward if we take away trilby dude. There have been hundreds of books about people leaving for others, etc. But this book was different because of trilby dude. I really can't say much more for fear of spoiling the plot, but suffice to say it gets veeery interesting. . . .
It's really easy to identify with Ginger - we've all been at the stage in our lives when we weren't liked very much, and we've all adapted ourselves. Not to mention Ginger doesn't do really stupid things to send us off her, which is GOOD.
All in all, Ginger Snaps was a really good book, for an hours reading or so. I loved it, obviously. Why are you still reading? Go out and buy it!

Badminton Comedy

2009-02-21T07:46:00.000-08:00

So, on Tuesday I went to stay at Ellie's house. Whilst there some really odd (but tres amusing) stuff happened.
~ Ellie dragged me through the back garden of Pizza Hut
~ Ellie fell into a lot of bushes
~ I hugged a lot of trees
~ We turned every Twilight buck we could find around
~ We tries on a lot of pairs of sunglasses
~ We stayed up nearly all night talking
~ We ate way too much chocolate and gingerbread
~ We filmed a webshow called Badminton Comedy.

Normal service will resume when the kitchen is done. Hold on.

Book Review - Ruby Parker Series

2009-02-08T12:49:00.000-08:00

Another review from my library trip! I don;t update my book review section often enough, and I might not return for some time, so enjoy these while you can!

I haven;t read all of the Ruby Parker books and I didn't do them in order. I've read the first three - up to Ruby Parker, Hollywood Star, and I've enjoyed them in the sort of way I enjoy these books.
Ruby Parker starts off as Angel MacFarley in soap Kensington Heights, becomes Polly Harris in a movie, and ends up with a snotty characters in an American drama by the end of Hollywood. All of the time the chapters are interspersed with letters, newspaper columns and emails; which occasionally prove a nice escape from Ruby's tumultous world.
I can't say I like Ruby very much - in fact she came off as a little snobby, just like Anne-Marie said she was. I much preferred her nice friend Nydia, who reminded me more of me then Ruby did.
I love books about stage schools and theatres and people getting big chances to be famous, but this book really wasn't for me. It seemed it was aimed a little below me, and sometimes I couldn't help but notice how mean Ruby was acting or how oddly written it was. I can't help it; I just always nitpick.
It's not the worst book, but it's not the best. If you like books about the stage and fame and acting, go for it. I can't say my opinion caters for everybody. It was alright - but to be honest, as a rabid musical theatre geek, I'm looking forward to reading the next Ruby Parker book - Ruby Parker, Stage Star!

Book Review - Airhead

2009-02-08T12:41:00.000-08:00

Another book review inspired by my trip to our library! Enjoy the book review of the most modern book I read and that I've actually been dying to read.

A few months ago, I was bought a magazine that came with the first five chapters of Airhead in a teeny book. At first, I figured it wasn't something I'd like - I only ever read The Princess Diaries for the Buffy references, for Richard Hammond's sake! Then I read further in and I thought, 'yeah, actually, this book is a little me'.
The plot of this book is that tomboy Emerson Watts is in an accident and then when she wakes up she just happens to be in somebody else's body - the body of teenage supermodel sensation Nikki. Oh yeah, add in the fact that she's in love with her best friend who ends up thinking she's dead and things just get a teensy bit more complicated.
I found it relatively easy to relate with Emerson; big surprise when you consider how hard it is for me to relate with anybody, let alone fictional characters. She seemed to be a little like me - occasionally obsessed with video games, average and in love with somebody who wouldn't even notice. It's nice to be able to relate with people.
Although Emerson certainly was easy, I have to admit I much preferred Nikki's 'celebutante' best friend, Lulu. She was awesomeness personified. And of course, I also preferred the afterwards when Emerson was being Nikki then the before when Emerson was being Emerson, or being Nikkie-but-not-quite knowing it.
It's not a ground-shattering book or probably even one I'll remember next month. But for two hours or so entertainment, it's good enough for me.

Book Review - Worse Than Boys

2009-02-08T12:24:00.000-08:00

On Saturday I did something I hadn't done for a long time; I got up early and went to the library to get some new books. Our kitchen is being redone so everything is being moved around, and I didn't really want to get caught up in all of the frenzy. Instead I borrowed eight books and sat down to read them. Coincidentally, the books I borrowed were: Ruby Parker Soap Star, Ruby Parker Hollywood Star, Tales Of The Slayers vol. 2, Bright Lights, Airhead, Vices And Virtues, You're The Best! and the book I'm going to review today, worse than boys.

Okay, first of all just let me say that this wasn't one I picked up because it looked fantastically interesting. I took it because I needed one more and its cover looked interesting; bright pink with black silhouettes on over it. The cover said "Worse Then Boys" and told me that it was written by Catherine MacPhail.
The basic premise for the book was that in this school, there were two rival gangs; The Lip Gloss Girls, made up of Erin, Hannah (the main character whom we read the story through the eyes of), Heather and Rose, and The Hell Cats. They get into fights a lot and generally cause trouble - in fact, there's a rumour going round that their ringleader the tough-as-nails Wizzie carries a knife and that they mugged an old lady.
Then, Erin reveals a MASSIVE secret to Hannah . . . and suddenly it's all around school. Hannah finds herself cast out by her friends and completely alone - with the Hell Cats circling ever closer. . .
I have to admit, at first I just thought it would be a good way to pass the time. I didn't like the fantastic, awesome group of friends that the Lip Gloss Girls had - it suddenly all got interesting when Hannah was cast out. I admit to shedding a few tears as Hannah was abandoned by all of her friends, and I really felt for her (having been abandoned by friends a few times myself). Things, of course, weren't helped by Erin's total inability to believe her friend.
The best thing about this book? Nothing turned out the way you thought it would. Everything was the total opposite from what you expected. I can't really say how because you haven't read it and hello, spoilers? But I can assure you it's probably not what you expect to happen. I've never heard of this book before; but I can guarantee you'll love it.
You'll really get caught up in the story and by the time it ends, you'll be wishing that it never did.

Lookalikes?

2009-01-16T09:00:00.000-08:00

Apparently I look like Lindsay Lohan, Ashley Tisdale, Sarah Michelle Gellar and Clara Bow. There's no resemblance, dudes. None whatsoever.
Still, it was funny.

Things That Make Me Smile!

2009-01-14T10:47:00.000-08:00

So, my New Years Resolution this year is to be more optimistic! As a mad pessimist, I tend to see the glass half empty, teeming with harmful microbes and with a dirty rim. I'd like to change my outlook a little and become one of those people who can light up a room. So I've decided that for one week I'm going to post things that make (or made) me smile for that day!
♥~ The Fear - Lily Allen. I've been playing this song on repeat for like days. I think it's a brilliant representation of modern celebrity. Lyrics ring true, much?
♥~ Candy Canes. Seriously, why are they only sold around one time of the year? They're sweet and sugary and my favourite candy. They taste like rock, but as I live in a dismal town there is no roch here either. Hard candy is the best.
♥~ Pink Hair! It's so gorgeous. I love the way it looks and makes people look, it's just one of those things you associate with sweetness and candy.
♥~ The Sims 2. I've jut got all my custom stuff reinstalled and I can do so much stuff now! I have an obsession with styling country rooms, and my phoneline is broken so if I tell the sim to use the phone they disappear, but it's cool nonetheless.
♥~ War And Peace. Trying to finish this faster then my mother did! I started yesterday and am at page four. My chances seem slim to none.
♥~ Individuality. I've decided not to care about not being able to afford Lolita. I'm just going for stuff I like and dressing however I want. If I like it I'll buy it.
♥~ My new penguin shirt! It has penguins sliding down in a diagonal pattern, it's white and the pengies are black! I love it so much!

Apology

2009-01-13T11:14:00.000-08:00

I'm sorry about not having been on the internet, alas it was disabled for a while. Expect more blogposts later~

Stuff Happened

2009-01-06T11:08:00.000-08:00

~Today was my first day at school again! After my Christmas break I returned back to my school. It was ridiculously nice to see everybody again.
This morning nothing really happened. When I arrived at school I had to go and be talked through the FAIR system, along with all the other Year 8s. Joe has done something odd to his hair. The sides of his head now seem to be shaven whilst his usual gravity-defying hair is still there on the top. We couldn't do any English because of how late we got into the classroom. At break I went up to Miss Mills' classroom with Joe and we talked about Twilight - the poor boy got the entire boxset of the books for Christmas!
In DT we're doing electronics. We're making a timer with an LED light . . . Or something akin to that. My memories tend to be FAILTASTIC. We have a small Dt group that consists of eleven or twelve people when they're all there.
I love dinnertimes. All of my friends get together, and today nearly everybody was there! Except Alicia, who is gone FOREVER D:. We took a picture of us all together. Ryan took it from standing on top of the skips. Awesomeness, much?
Love you all, sorry for the short entry xxx.

So, just y'know, writing . . .

2009-01-05T07:34:00.000-08:00

Current balance : £17.01

I'd like to share with you more writing today :). I sense your disappointment, nonexistent readers! If you do read this, please leave a comment. I love new people and I'm not going to bite your head off, promise!
This writing is probably more of my usual style, like The Darkness with Amelie and Khhayus was more of the sort of thing I write. This was one of my homework assignments, so bear with me on the rubbishness.

I have lived through many Christmases – however, one stays in my mind more then most. I suppose it was the worst Christmas I ever went through. It started innocently enough. It was the middle of winter and a thick blanket of virgin snow covered the ground. It was morning as I walked through this, revelling in the fresh new footprints my boots left behind. It gave me an odd sort of satisfaction to know that I was the first to walk upon the sugar-dusted cobblestones.
I was barely nineteen at the time, young and foolishly trusting. As the youngest member of the family, albeit the only male, I was babied by my elder sisters. I didn’t know many of the dangers the outside world presented – just the few that my sisters decided I should. I wasn’t given the chance to take my education into my own hands until much later.
It being the middle of winter, early morning was still dark. Above me, the sky was still indigo, the moon hanging like a pearl on velvet in the midst of a great see. Hundreds of stars glimmered and shone, like the diamond studs my eldest sister Maria had warn to be married in. My other sisters would all wear them too, though (and I did not yet know it) I was not to be present at their weddings. I had to deliver a package to Maria now – she had moved in with her husband now and my mother and sisters wished their presents to be given to her on the proper day for receiving them. That is how I came to be walking along the snow-covered cobbles early on Christmas day.
They lived in a sweet, small house on the outskirts of our small village. It wasn’t a great distance from our own modest abode; but I felt that I must play the gentleman for once and save my female family members from walking such a way on Christmas of all days.
I was not walking for long when I came upon the door of my sister and her husband. I walked up the path and knocked on the door a few times, waiting for it to swing open. I smiled as I saw Maria’s obvious touches in the front garden. It was filled with the flowers she so loved in colours that she adored. Even in the middle of winter when most had no petals, the garden still resonated with an air that was purely Maria.
When the door opened, I immediately could sense that something was not quite right. Tristan, who was Maria’s husband, was the one who appeared in the doorframe and there was something off about him. I was not so rude as to assume that Maria could have brought about the change, but it did look as though something had been keeping him up.
His face was paler then I had ever seen another human’s skin. It was almost white in the moonlight, etched with deep but few lines. His eyes seemed to be inhumanly bright. They had been warm and the colour of butterscotch. They had retained the honey, but the softness had gone and they were more like cold gold. They glinted with something I could not quite place.
“Good morning, Lucas.” He seemed almost pleased to see me. I had always had the distinct impression I was not well liked, yet here he seemed to be proving me wrong in that respect. A smile that at the time looked warm graced his features. “Would you like to come in?”
“I . . . I brought presents from my family for you and Maria.” I gestured at the bag filled with lovingly wrapped packages I held in one hand. He smiled that predatory smile again. I noticed his teeth were sharper then I remembered and his canines had lengthened and seemed to taper into a sharp point. It made me uneasy.
“I noticed. Come in! I’m sure Maria would like to see her brother. You can deliver the gifts in person.” As the door closed behind me and I heard the click of the lock, I realized I had made a terrible decision. I tried to turn away, but felt Tristan’s hand pushing on my back. The touch made me feel worse.
“She’s right through here.” He guided me through the hallway and into what I assumed was the kitchen. I stifled a scream.
Maria – my oldest sister, my confidante and my best friend – was dead. Her head had been almost severed, and by the pallor of her skin and the lack of blood at the scene of the death it was obvious what (and who) had killed her.
Behind me, I heard a low growl.
I made up for years of doubt and started believing in vampires at that moment. Tristan tackled me to the ground and for a moment we were a blur of flailing limbs. I seemed to go limp as I felt something sharp punch down over my neck.
I began trying every fighting technique I could think of. Kicking was a no, punching was a no, scratching seemed to irritate him. I did the only other thing I could think of. I bit hard at his cheek, which was the closest part of exposed skin I could get to.
“You want to know what happens when you drink my blood?” Tristan demanded in harsh tones as he touched his dripping cheek. The next thing I felt was cool skin at my lips, hot liquid dripping into my mouth and alerting my tongue to a brand new flavour.
It makes me feel weak to admit that I didn’t think as I grabbed his wrist. All I could think of was the blood at my mouth and the way it made me feel alive. It was as if I had never lived until this moment, this blood at my mouth, this exquisite sensation!
I passed out.
When I awoke, it was the middle of the night and Christmas was fast approaching its end. My tale has been without festive cheer. When my Christmas consisted of blood and death, it is only to be expected that I didn’t have enough time to open presents or wonder if anybody else had a nice celebration.
How many people can say that the reason they had a bad Christmas was because they died?
Tristan had abandoned me in the middle of a forest, leaving me to fend for myself. I knew I had become a vampire, and I knew now what sustenance I would need to stay alive.
I had one comfort. I may have been bitten – but I had bitten back.

Mmm. . . Rambles . . .

2009-01-03T07:15:00.000-08:00

Current money balance : £13.31
It's slowly going upupup. That's a good thing, right? My loli fund is slowly increasing and in a few months I might have enough to buy my dress and a petticoat~ It's nice to think that right now I actually do have enough money to buy a giant bow. It makes me remember I'm inching ever so slowly closer to my target :D.
So, to ramble on about something that isn't quite my usual today. I don't have a usual. I say whatever comes into my mind, alas I've been obsessed with lolita these past few days so that's what you've been lumbered with.
I talk to myself a lot. That's why I have a blog. I once got on a bus to school (I live just a bit too far away to walk) and I heard someone say "that lass is real weird, she talks to herself'. Ever think that the reason I talk to myself could be a lack of intelligent company whilst on a bus? Some people know nothing. I think all of them go to my school D:.
I'm wearing the necklace, earring and bracelet set that Sammi'n'Paige got me for the first time today. The bracelet's not quite loose enough but it's alright. Also the crescent moon brooch bought from lovelylatte, an adorable little etsy shop. I love the brooch.
Anyway, nothing else to say. Love youuu~

Mmm. . . Lolita . . .

2009-01-02T07:58:00.000-08:00

So, my money box stands at £12.01. I don't suppose that's too terribly horribly bad. I'm now, of course, deliberating over what I want to buy and from where. Today, surfing around for more Lolita (this appears to take up the entirety of my time nowadays) I found a couple of items I'd really like and might actually be able to afford.
The pound's dropping in value all of the time. So before, the Anna House dress I wanted cost less then forty pounds, it's now closer to sixty including shipping. I'd like to buy from Candy Violet or In The Starlight, I find their shipping costs much more affordable. I also love Fan+Friend, but again find shipping expensive. *sigh*
My mother, who actually likes lolita and wouldn't mind me wearing it (which is in direct contrast to a lot of people's parents) likes the split skirts from La Dauphine. Eerh, whatever, she wouldn't be the one wearing it.
Most probably I'll buy from In The Starlight or Anna House to start with so I can order a petti with them. This is basically a wish list of what I want and how much it costs. I won't strike out stuff, but I'll probably make a raving WOWAWESOME blog post when I do acquire stuff. So look out for the WOWAWESOME blogposts.
Starting with Fan+Friend, because that's the first Loli shop I have open in my tabs. It's highly likely this won't fit me anyway, I being of a larger persuasion. Still, a girl can dream, right?
Classic Gothic Lolita: 3 Frilled Long Sleeves Cotton Dress - Hey? Guess what? This'll actually fit me. Alas, it'll cost about seventy pounds which will take me four or five months to acquire, even including shipping costs (eighty plu shipping costs) moving ON.
Dolly Gothic / Sweet Lolita: Frilled Cake Dress *Lavender - This dress is gorgeous. I love it to pieces. Hey! It's only about seventy with shipping. We're getting closer and closer. Let's hope I'm awesome enough to get the twenty pounds for the end of the month, eh? Lovelovelovelovelove.
After those pieces, moving on to La Dauphine. Thanks for that, Fan+Friend.
Nothing I like that will fit me here, moving on.
In The Starlight. Gah, I love this place. I can order my petti from here too if I see anything I like.
I like skirt 171. Pink and bowfilled and awesome. About £33, which isn't bad at all. Still more then I've ever paid for anything in my entire life, though. Then again, a coat from BABY would cost more then the entire contents of my wardrobe are worth so maybe I'm just luicrously cheap.
However, then I'd have to buy a blouse too and I'd be ruined.
Moving onto Candy Violet, then.
I love the Rococo Dream Dress. Gorgeous colour, alas I can't get any other details on it at the moment. I'll wait til tomorrow to look at the rest of Candy Violet's stuff.
Megan Maude.
Coreopsis Skirt - Mint - I like this skirt. It's ridiculously pretty for being green. It wouldn't match a single thing in my wardrobe. I need a frilly white blouse - that goes with EVERYTHING. It would fit me and it's not disgustingly expensive. Much love.
To Anna House!
Hang on, wait a second - everything on Anna House is gorgeous and inexpensive. That's okay then. We'll leave that.
Much love.

Resolutions

2009-01-01T07:39:00.000-08:00

I have a few New Year's Resolutions:
1. Actually finish my novel.
2. Become more helpful around the house
3. Keep rooms and stuff tidy as opposed to BOMBSITES.

Anyway, I've started saving up for a dress from Anna House. By the end of the month I'll have about thirty pounds, which is about three quarters of what I need. I'm just hoping they'll have the size I need in store <3.

Peace Out xxx.

Wishes~

2008-12-31T05:32:00.000-08:00

When you wish upon a star~
There are some things I need again. I need a new parasol, a new pair of school shoes, a new petticoat and a new dress that isn't ridiculously black. I want something white and pink and marshmallow and ludicrously frilly. But we can't all have what we want and I like what I have, so I suppose I'm just whining again.
This is a wish list.
~ White Mary-Janes (Chance of getting: nil)
~ Frilly white parasol (Chance of getting: vaguely higher)
~ New petticoat (Chance of getting: nil)
~ Anna House Dress (Chance of getting: beyond nil)
~ Giant White Hair Bow (Chance of getting: pretty high, actually)
~ Haircut (Chance: NONE.)

Late~

2008-12-30T11:40:00.000-08:00

This is an incredibly late post, but:

Happy Holidays, Everyone!

Book Review - Twilight

2008-12-20T06:58:00.000-08:00

So, yeah - Claudia loves to read, oddly enough :D. So I felt now would be a perfect time to introduce you to this part of my blog - book reviews. My first book review will be about a book that's become popular in the last few years and has inspired a cult of really really really rabid fans - Twilight.

I first picked up Twilight when I was wandering around a bookstore searching for a book I wanted for Christmas. Recognising the name and the 'Edward Cullen' it spoke about on the back, I though that I would buy it and I could join in the hysteria surrounding the book. I bought the book, and inside of me knew that if it was half as good as the other vampire books I had read, I would love it. How foolish I was.

When I began to read the book, I was hit by the uncomfortable realization that this wasn't really very good. Hoping it would pick up, I finished the book - whilst all the while, my inner editor was yelling at me to put the book down and never read it again. Sadly, I didn't listen to him.

Let me explain - Twilight is a book about 'average' human Bella Swan, who moves to the rainy town of Forks and falls in love with the vampire Edward Cullen. So it's not the most interesting premise in the world, or the most original. It still could have been a decent book. But it wasn't.

First of all, we have Bella Swan. Bella Swan, I'd like to point out is a Mary-Sue. Not only is she apparently 'fantastically average' but she manages to have five (count'em) boys lusting after her by the end of the book, including the unreachable Edward Cullen. She isn't selfish, or vain, but 'brilliant and kind-hearted'. Her only flaw is what I shall now be referring to as her 'cutesy-Sue flaw' is clumsiness. This, coincidentally, is found endearing by all boys who meet her.

Then we have Edward Cullen. A ridiculously flat, but OMG HAWT character who has all of the personality of a cardboard cut-out. He also exhibits some darn creepy stalker characteristics - appearing mysteriously wherever she is and watching her while he sleeps. Is that romantic if Jed the ninety-year old janitor does it? So why is it romantic when a hundred and eight year old vampire does it? That's right, it's not. Plus, he sparkles. Enough said.

I could go on for hours about the grand lack of plot that was sleeping until a hundred pages before the end. I could go on about the mad anti-feminist undertones. I could go on about the SPARKLING. THE SPARKLING. I'm not going to. Just, trust me when I say you'd be better off reading Anne Rice.

Ten Facts Meme~

2008-12-08T10:14:00.000-08:00

I love doing memes like this. <3. Be prepared for some stuff you never wanted to know about me.
~ I collect penguins. I collect anything remotely penguin like - penguin soa, penguin toys, penguin bags. . . People can recognise me in school because I walk around with a penguin badge pinned to my blazer.
~ I have a mortal fear of trampolines. I hate being bouncy and feeling everything move around inside me, and I hate knowing that I could fall through it at any minute. In PE I stay away from the trampolines.
~ I'm a total fangirl for vampires - Buffy, The Vampire Chronicles, The Lost Boys. Whatever. Just make sure it has fangs and is blonde <3.
~ I used to want to be an actress in musical theatre when I grew up, and even now I still imagine myself doing it and still sing songs into my microphone. I then promptly lol over the failiness of my voice.
~ One of the most dear things to me in the world is Lestat : The Musical. It was the musical that first opened up my mind to musicals themselves.
~ I love stand up comedy, and Jo Brand is one of my idols in life.
~ I own the S Club Juniors album. And I still listen to it and still know all of the words to it.
~ Another of my life's idols is John Barrowman - Actor, Singer, Presenter, MT Actor . . . He's fantastic.
~ I've never watched an episode of Hannah Montana, nor anything on Diseny except Recess. That's just the way I am.
~ A sure-fire way to contact me is to use my kupika username, ZeClaudiaDoomThing.

I Love . . . Online Shops <3

2008-11-28T07:36:00.000-08:00

Here's a collection for you of all of the totally awesome online shops you just know are out there - some are adorable, some are mad kitsch, and some of them are just the most rocking thing out there. One thing's for sure, though - they're all fantastic.
www.atomicflump.co.uk - I just love their penguin earrings - I'm an avid collector of penguin related items and I would love to have those little guys in my jewellry box. Plus, Mighty Boosh jewellry! What's not to love?
temporarysecretary.bigcartel.com/]Temporary Secretary - I love the cute little duck ring - ducks are some of the most awesome animals ever!
www.shanalogic.com/ - These are a little more expensive then I'd usually pay, but they do have some lovely stuff! My favourite is most definitely the cupcake necklace! It ties in so well with Sugar Frosted Mayhem, actually :D.
www.heidiseeker.com - This place is pretty inexpensive, and I love their sunglasses and especially the bow-shaped rings.
www.dollydagger.co.uk - The cute little chocolate-shaped goodies are fantastic, and this place are pretty good value for money too. I'm in love with all of their brooches too.
www.store.retrorebels.com - A little punkier then what I'm used to, but I love their gloves and most of their sunglasses.
www.ladyluckrulesok.com/index.php - Such a cute little place! They sell less expensive personalized name jewellry - I'm thinking about buying one of the artists pallete ones!
www.elsiebelle.com - As well as being the nickname for one of my friends, this place sells the loveliest little necklaces, not neccesarily in plastic (which is what the current trend seems to be.)
www.babygirlboutique.com/ - I love this site - their Bohemian clothing is fantastic! And it makes such a welcome change when I convert from dollars into pounds and find it so inexpensive<3. href="http://helplessromantic.bigcartel.com/">helplessromantic.bigcartel.com/ - The key to my heart necklace is lovely<3 and I admire the flutterbye ring.
I have a feeling I'm going to be spending an awful lot of money.

Amused

2008-11-26T09:30:00.000-08:00

I can smell pancakes! Pancakes are yummy <3.
Today I'd like to share with you some ridiculous statements that came out of some people's mouths in school today. Most of these quotes probably come from Chloe, Cameron or Graeme - as they are the certified jokers of the class. These were extremely funny in context.
(Answers given when the teacher asked a good way for a king to control his country)
Chloe: Start his own fanclub!
Cameron : Start a band and travel around the country selling his own merchandise.
(Answers given generally)
Teacher : Alright, so what came after the barons? I'll give you a clue - they wore helmets and weren't that important . . .
Grame : RATS!
Grame, who produced such classics as
"Are you a spasticated chicken?" and
"Are you a retarded sausage?"
Yes, this is the sort of thing that goes on in a Year 8 Classroom.

Short Story :D~

2008-11-25T09:47:00.000-08:00

"Do you know?" she asked, and her voice was a small tinkling melody resounding in the abyss of my mind, clear and silvery like a flute's. "Do you know what it is to break?" her hands were clutching at my hair, soft and golden in her hands in hundreds of tiny curls.
She played with it, twisting it around her fingers and pulling the curl to watch it spring back into space again. Her eyes expressed an myriad of emotions, not all I could even begin to comprehend. Her eyes always seemed countlessly older then her face, and yet they belonged to someone who was all but a child."I cannot say I do." I told her, depositing her on a small chair where she sat with her ankles crossed neatly and her hands folded in her laps, so tiny and perfect they could have been made of porcelain. I answered her truthfully, for who was I to deny her the truth after what I had put her through? She tilted her head and stared at me, her eyes inscrutable and yet with an inexplicable vulnerability that nothing that was not a child could even start to convey. It startled me, this potent defenselessness that exposed the weakness she showed so little. I made my way to my chair and sat down opposite to her in order to talk to her more. I had not realised it, but the child had become my best friend, my confidante and my light. Not that light was any association for her, my nightmare in filmy black lace with her dark curls spilling down to her waist.
"Then," she said and there was a hardness in her voice that chilled me and yet made me love her even more, "You can not begin to imagine how I feel. You cannot begin to imagine to what lengths I would go to be fixed." It tore me, her words that resonated with a perfect clearness and understanding that my mind did not want to register. Her sagacity was incomprehensible for her frame. If you had looked at the tiny, china doll figure in the mahogany chair you would have mistaken her for a life size doll. There was a perfect stillness and serenity that could be found only in death in her face, her eyes wide and clear like two perfectly sculpted glass orbs, her mouth a red heart in the whiteness of her face. Her hands were rounded slightly, clenched tightly as she spoke to me in a tone of voice that was simply a facade for the woman's voice that lay beneath it. She was perfect in every way, her flawlessness eerie and disturbing in a right. Perhaps she seemed too perfect.
I wanted to reach out to her, to stroke her dark curls and whisper to her that the world was cruel and she would be alright, just like I used to be able too. I wanted to lavish her with gifts of satin and dolls, soft stuffed animals and tiny trinkets that I thought she would appreciate. I knew these days were gone. In a way I felt her sorrow and her hopelessness at all of it, but I could not help her for she was experiencing other things I could not understand. A longing for mortality that I had never once thought about. Much less expected from her, the quiet unassuming child who had all of the wit and intelligence of myself and all of the blood lust.
She gave me a small, wistful smile like a butterfly that had only been glimpsed. In a way I suppose she was a butterfly ; a caterpillar mortal, ugly and unable to see the true beauty of the world into a glorious new creature that had been able to experience swirls of silk brocade and freshwater pearls that gleamed when the sunlight hit them. There was a string of pearls about her neck now, each tiny but massive to her, spilling down onto the bodice of her dress to contrast against her black lace. In her hair were threaded pearls that looked like glorious pinpricks of light. I felt for her, wistful as she was. I suddenly wished that she had not been made this way, that I had carried on revering her after my first glance at her instead of taking her straight away. That I had waited until she was older, fifteen maybe sixteen.“Amelie.” I pleaded. There was no need to bother with the common courtesies with Amelie, she understood far more then someone could conceive from her physical appearance. She looked at me and a sadistic smirk that looked like an out of place jigsaw piece took it’s place over her lips, a grinning horrendous mask. It dropped quickly.
She stood up now, glaring at me with eyes full of malice that cuts at me like wild little blades, making pockmarks on my soul. She turned on her little white button up boots and set off across the floor, her heels making an eerie clacking on the cold floorboards, echoing around the high arched room. I followed her into her room, a tiny masterpiece in miniature to match her stature. In here it was easy to think of her as a woman, easy to feel ungainly. I felt like Gulliver in Lilliput, shunned away. She sat down on her tiny stool in front of her dressing table, staring at her own reflection is dissatisfaction, as if somehow this vision of loveliness before her that was her was wrong and the thing she least wanted to see. Her eyes drifted to one of the many porcelain dolls. This time it was one the image of her, down to her childlike wonder and wisdom in the glass eyes and the tiny pout of her mouth. The doll maker had made smiling dolls, smiling dolls, a shop full of vacant smiles, until Amelie had went in and said to the doll maker she wanted a sad doll.
Suddenly she swiped a hand and the doll fell on to the floor, smashing into porcelain shards aside from the occasional full piece like a thumb or glass eye. A gilt backed brush and mirror lay in a small decorative dish patterned with rose petals, a tiny decanter of rose petal perfume with a rose as a stopper and some scraps of ribbon lay discarded on her dressing table over a table cloth of white lace that she had made herself. Suddenly she was at me, pulling at the lapels of my coat and sobbing so that tiny little bloody rivulets slipped down her face and on to the filmy black lace of her dress. My arms went around her out of habit more then anything else, comforting her as any good father would. I buried my face in to her soft dark curls and breathed in the smell of the infant death, her lilac shampoo and rose petal perfume. But through it all, the sobs and the burying of her head into my neck, her voice rang out as clear and silvery as a little bell.
“Promise me, Khhayus!” She sobbed into my neck, “Promise you will never leave me!” I did not know how to answer this, so I carried on rocking her backwards and forwards and stroking her hair. She was my dark angel, my darling and my lover and she needed comfort, so how was I to resist her helpless allure? As I did not know how to answer this, I also did not know where this idea of my leaving came about.“What makes you think I would leave you?” I asked her softly, now that the tears were ebbing away to a flow and she was not holding on to me so tightly. I took her in my arms carefully and tenderly, nestling her into me like she was a baby who needed rocking, and lay her down on her bed. She pulled herself up so that the soft lacy pillows were beneath her, so she was propped up and supported without her having to waste any energy on keeping her back straight, and again folded her hands into her lap. She stared into my own ice blue eyes with her inscrutable liquid silk ones, the contact between our minds making up for lack of actual words and contact.
“The letters.” She said matter-of-factly. Her words rang clear and true, words that were in no way ugly and yet made my heart plummet and bile rise in my throat. The tone of accusation she was using was unbearable, an ugly twisted child’s tone that nobody should never have need to hear. I tipped my head to the side and frowned, a wrinkle coming in my forehead deep and my jet black hair falling into my face to obscure one eye’s vision. Not that I needed both eyes.
I knew what she was talking about, of course. Last night I had refused her everything, an event that is very unusual especially for I, who can resist my angel nothing. She had seen the correspondence I had with my other children, written on yellowed parchment in an elegant manuscript with red ink tied with purple satin ribbons, and her mind which was so old but so in a child’s mindset, had set to thinking the worst possible conclusion. I sat down on the bed, the pale gold blanket creasing beneath me as it supported my weight where before it had only had a child on it. The canopy fell over me, making me look like a faded ghost whose true colors had started to show through. I reached out to her, but she remained distant with a great, decided contempt in her eyes for me. This hurt me more then she could no, bruising me inside and terrifying me all at the same time. There was a beauty in the malice, a dreadful beauty that can make your blood run cold and yet you feel rushes of heat and delight at. This was the beauty of a vampire’s wrath.“You misunderstood.” I whispered to her softly, my voice sounding wrong so soft and passive. I sounded affable almost, something a vampire cannot afford to be. When I had given her this devil’s gift, this crimson kiss, I had sensed in the sweet innocent child the faintest trace of a killer, the soft furrows of anger in her brow and perhaps the slight red tinge to her grey eyes to make them seem brown in the dark. Th killer’s nature is something all vampire’s must have, and when I had revered my infant death she had had no compassion whatsoever, the only show of affection I had ever seen her give a hug and a kiss on her cheek for her mama. “Those letters. They were sent to some old friends who you had not known.” She pouted deeply and stared into my own eyes yet more angrily. I felt myself wince back, almost as if she was scorching me simply with her eyes.
“They were to your other children!” She said. Although at this point I have used an exclamation point at the end of Amelie’s sentence she said this all in a passive voice as if she was resigned to her nonexistent fate or an actress who was playing her part wooden. “To that beautiful gypsy woman with the roses in her hair, the self destructive teenage boy who when enraged had the apocalypse in his eyes and the old woman who whispered to you her life in words that touched you so you felt driven to repay her. You mean to join up with them and leave me.”
I could not stand this, her accusations and her suspicions. I had wanted to leave her many times, as she was jealous and protective. And yet I found myself ever more bound to her, my little companion who was as much as anyone had ever been to me. My beautiful china doll who was trapped in her own prison. If I were to make a childe for her, a young boy of nine or ten, then perhaps she could feel better and more at peace. If she could share her pain then perhaps we would once again live in the harmony we had once had before she had begun to ask questions and curse the wretched ‘ gift ’ I had bestowed upon her.I remember that far back, how each night after a splendid hunt we would return home and rejoice together, sharing memories. The nights at the theatre and the concert houses, afterwards she would sit at her baby grand piano, made to scale, and pick out tunes on the ivory and ebony. Her brushes against the soft canvas, a look of utmost concentration on her face as she guided the sable along her pencil sketches and her delight when the people came alive, such was her talent after a few years. Her tutor was most pleased with her progress in her music and her mature style of self expression. He began to grow suspicious after four or more years, though, so I bade Amelie she could have him for her supper. After that her talent increased threefold on the piano, and she would sit there night after night picking out clear, ringing melodies that sounded like her own voice.
“I mean no such thing.” I assured her quietly, and placed my hands on the black lace of her skirt, feeling the black silk beneath it. She seemed unconvinced, and stared into my eyes with a desperation unlike anything else ever seen from a child, much less one of her age or stature. I felt so broken to stare at her, because in a way she was a part of me that I could not envision living without. If she was to go I would feel like a jigsaw with one of the pieces missing, or a book with no pages. My emotions enveloped me in this respect, overshadowing even my killer instinct and constant lust for blood. This was something I had taught her never to do, and yet judging by the intensity of her begging and her sobs I think she must have picked it up off me as a bad habit. In those first years I was an eager teacher, proving to her that we were like animals that must kill to live, that we were to take human leave and marvel in the beauty of it at the same time, to revel in this splendid relationship between the unwitting mortal and his flirting with death. I took her to balls to see the elegant finery, where she was fussed and treated like a darling doll. I took with her two twin aristocrats, a boy and a girl, fiery in passion and their struggles so that the hunt was a thrill. But then I took her to houses of the stinking dead where corpses rotted in their thousands, to orphanages where the children were so starved they looked no better then walking skeletons and then to a house where the twenty nine occupants were living in poverty, with one bathroom and three bedrooms, a kitchen and an open space.
She began the most wonderful obsession over actors and actresses, whose blood was always hot and passionate. She delighted in seeing their shows, talking to them behind and then leading the unwitting actors to a tea shop where they would take their delight in buying her thick, fine teas, milk and honey and steaming hot chocolate. She would drink these and like any good child drink them to her doll. To me they would whisper what a vision of loveliness my child was, and how she would surely grow up into a most beautiful, refined young lady. Only when hearing this did I feel a pang in my chest, small as it was. She was a familiar sight at doll shops, adoring ladies and gentlemen choosing the doll she was looking hungriest at and buying it for her. The things she gained from people who adored her was phenomenal. And then after ten years or so there was suspicion and we had to leave town. Why does the beautiful child never appear in the daylight? Why does the man dress in such an odd fashion in black and only black, and why does he insist on his daughter wearing it when such a pretty young thing should be out in the sun to let the sun golden her hair and skin, and in pretty lilac gowns to compliment her eyes instead of the black that makes her look like some baby crow. We had left quickly after those remarks started. Now we were in London, a city ravaged by pollution but where nobody cared to look after the wellbeing of strangers. We had been nearly robbed plenty a time, but each time we had managed to combat it.
“Do you promise?” She asked me, like any child would. She smiled shyly as her eyes met mine, and I felt a sudden rush of love for her. Her smiles were rare, so this I must treasure with all of my heart and whatever there is left of my soul.
“Amelie.” I said. “You have been my companion, my confidante and in some cases my mentor, for over two hundred years. I love you so much, that is why I have not left you. In some cases you have driven me to madness and yet I have continued to stay with you when in so many cases I have wanted to leave. I love you. You are my light. You know I can remember every detail of how I took you, why I took you?” “Then tell me.” She said softly.
“Very well, Amelie. I had been watching you for weeks, revering you and worshipping you in my own way, admiring from afar. It's not something I'm fond of remembering, because it often makes me think of myself as rather a coward." I laughed hollowly at myself. "You were beautiful, as beautiful in life as you are in death. Like a perfect little doll." She stiffened at this, how stand offishness suddenly palpable. "I had thought to myself that I would watch you age until you were seventeen, eighteen, and turn you in the peak of your strength and beauty. Now, as you would know, I am an impatient vampire. I could not wait for eleven years for you to turn eighteen, so I took you one night. It is not something I am proud of." I placed a hand over hers, she looked up at me, her eyes hard. Poor child, isn't she?
She stared up at me and there was a flash of venom in her eyes, like the blade against a throat, before it was once again overtaken by love.
I frowned at this. It would be another long decade.

Writery Stuff

2008-11-24T11:48:00.000-08:00

I love to write - that's no secret, I'm unashamed of it, and I'll quite happily write about the failing escapades of my main characters or those plot bunnies that won't get off my tail. So, seeing as these guys will probably feature in quite a few blog entries, I'd like to introduce you to the current members of my novel's party.
Plotline : Basically, Taey is a child who was abandoned when she was three or four, but remembered nothing of her previous life. Two hippies found her wandering around a forest dressed in decaying finery and took her in, treating her as their daughter. Now, fifteen years later, she wants to find her real parents - problem is, Taey is reallya changeling child of the seelie courts, left alone as she was promised to Hecate as a lampade at an early age. However, the seelie queen had other ideas for our heroine and left her in the forest, hoping to collect her at an age where she could make her own choice (In this case, sixteen). However, that adds up to a whole host of other problems - a cambion from the unseelie courts named Jarred, a couple of lampades on her tail and a really not very nice member of the seelie courts sent to get her. Suddenly Taey has a lot more to worry about then what she's wearing for prom.
Basically, that's all I have.
Still, chances are I'll be ranting about them eventually and now you know what I'm on about :D.

Wintery Goodness

2008-11-23T11:46:00.000-08:00

Good evening, come in and have some hot chocolate. Do you know why? Here, have some little marshmallows too - hot chocolate is never the same when it doesn't have some floofy mallowy goodness. Yes, because today it snowed.
I'm still a little girl at heart, and when I woke up this morning and looked out at the window it was white over. Everywhere you could see it was like the path had been covered in mountains of sugar - the best part was, since I wake up early in the morning, the snow was virtually untouched. The entire street was pristine and I couldn't help having a little excited thrill considering that it didn't snow at all last year!
Maybe this means that we'll finally get a white Yule? I sure hope so <3.
In other news, the horror that are Christmas songs are rearing their heads again - as long as I never hear 'Fairytale Of New York' again in my life, I could just survive! :D
It's so nice to hear all of these festive treats, especially so early. It warms you up inside without the need for cocoa, don't you think? Fabulousness personified!
My personal favourite winter song for the moment is 'Baby It's Cold Outside', with Cerys Matthews and Tom Jones. I adore the dress Cerys wears at the beginning (although I'm not so enamoured of the black number). I suppose I love all things glittery and floofy, but who can blame me? <3
I've been up to a lot this weekend - I've bought some lovely Christmas presents for my friends (lots of nummy soaps and smelly stuffz), baked peppermint creams and gingerbread daleks and finished a job I've been waiting to do for ages - all this means I now have enough money to actually buy stuff! Five pounds on my phone, five pounds for cinema with my friends (Hoping to see the trainwreck that will be Twilight) and some money to buy a hat!
Sayonara for now, my friends ~
I'm deciding whether I should go for my weekly Richard Hammond fix or my monthly Seth Green Fix.

Hello There~

2008-11-19T09:46:00.000-08:00

I see you've stumbled upon SUGAR FROSTED MAYHEM - a quiet little blog in the corner of the web hung with pink drapes. Come in, you shouldn't just stand there in the rain and get soaked to the skin. It's pretty warm in here and we never bite! At least, not hard enough to hurt.

This place is Sugar Frosted Mayhem - and this is one place where you can never have too much sugar. Have a flump - you're in the intranetz now, no need to watch your weight. It'll all go onto the bottom of your computer instead.

What is Sugar Frosted Mayhem, you ask. Though it's pretty hard to hear in here with all of that music blaring out from the kitchen - sorry about that, by the way. We're just baking gingerbread and we don't like to hear ourselves think. Well, Sugar Frosted Mayhem is a blog. We're a quiet bunch who are in love with books, writing, fashion and music. Come in and have a look around - if you hate it, at least you can say you tried. We're a pretty nice bunch here, though - I fail to see how we could be disliked. Still, come in and have a look around - you won't be disappointed. And who am I?

Hello there cupcakes, I'm Natasha - and I run this carnival. Have some candy-floss, it's on the house. You'll love it - it's pink and fluffy and sweet. I think this candy epitomises how I want to be. I'm quiet, shy, loud and outspoken. I can do all this at once because I'm a walking contradiction. I grew up around books, and my love of them was kindled from an early age. I'm a pretty awesome person to know.

Leave a comment, send a message - all of this stuff is appreciated. You're all totally fabulous, you know - I'm not going to judge you by a couple of words you leave behind.