Miss Eccentric's Blog

I'm Okay...

2012-01-22T22:14:00.000-08:00

I've been wanting to do this blog for quite some time now, but for some reason I haven't...Now I know I am brave enough, strong enough, and I'm just gonna come out and say it. Everything I have written here in the past that has to do with “my parents” and any mention of my so-called “father” was a lie. That man is no more my father than I am a flying pigmy. My mother was never in love with him, and he was never a father to my brother nor I...Not by blood, and not in our hearts. But I had to keep an act up, for my mom's sake and for the sake of the household...Now I will no longer keep this act going. I am who I am, and I will never lie about my life again. Which brings me to something more that I wanted to say...Let me elaborate.

The thing about life that many do not realize until it is too late, is that all too often, we are handed a pile that most others wouldn't be able to handle. Only you can handle what you are handed --if you are lucky-- and even then some have a harder time than others with just that...Trying to handle your own life.Trying to handle what pile you were given...

I, like many before me, was handed quite a lot for someone my age. I grew up in a household where my “father” abused my mother mentally, physically, financially, and in many other ways...He abused my brother. He abused even myself. I grew up in a house where I was afraid for my mother, afraid for myself...And afraid to tell anyone else about what went on behind closed doors. Afraid to even tell my own mom half of what happened behind her back...I am no longer afraid.

Fear...That is a whole other subject. Fear can manifest itself in so many different ways. Fear, to me, is like an old scar: It can either be something you look back on from time to time, remembering what has happened to you but knowing that you are past that, knowing that those wounds have healed over through the years...Or they can be a constant reminder of what you feel every day. For me, they are both, in a way...Although more the latter than the former.

About one year ago now, my life, thanks to my courageous mother, changed forever. She finally had the full strength of the Goddess I know she is at heart, and she used that to get rid of that abusive “man” once and for all. We erased him from our house, our lives, and we try every day to erase him from our memories...But in the process, those scars that healed over through years of denial opened once again, and it has taken more to close the wounds this time than the before. I kept things from my mom to protect her, and at the age of nineteen I finally told her everything. I used her strength from leaving him as my own strength, and I confessed more to her than I had to anyone. It was a large, painful, gnarly scar that I had opened once more, but I knew this time the wound could heal over nicer than before.

I have said this before, and I will say it again...2011 was our year. It was the year of freedom for my mom, brother, and myself.

In 2011, my mom freed herself from the tyranny of her previous “marriage”. She put her foot down and made him leave her home whether he liked it or not. And it finally worked. She was reunited with the love of her life, a man she had fallen for back when she was still in high school...Sadly, the timing was not right back then and their lives had gone in different directions before they even had a chance to try being together. But now she is not only happily in love with her man, but she has bought a house with him in a new County, she has lost all the weight she had put on in sheer depression living with her ex, she has become happy, healthy, and more radiant than I have ever seen her in my lifetime...She now shares a young son with her love, and my brother and I have finally found a man in our lives who is, although not by blood, more of a father than we've ever known. My brother has a steady job. I am employed myself and –due to this job not giving me the hours I need-- I am even looking for a second job.

In 2011, I accomplished more than I ever thought possible of myself...I published two novels online myself, and have been writing a third in my spare time. I have grown in so many ways...I have even found a love so strong that I find myself forgetting the things of my past at times...Although, as I've said, those insistent scars will never go away, and they keep reminding me of what has hurt us all. But I'm working on it. And for the first time in my life, I have found someone who I actually feel safe around...It's no secret that I have trust issues. For the longest time it was only my mom to whom I trusted. But when I am in the arms of my love, I feel warm, and safe, like no nightmare from my past can reach me. It's amazingly comforting to have that...And I have shared things that only my mom knows, and you know what? It's okay. Because I love him, and he loves me, and I know he will always be there to protect me...And since I told him some of my darkest secrets, I have felt a healing begin deep inside, and I know those gnarly wounds are becoming scars once more, only this time, they will be small, almost invisible to the naked eye...And I'm okay now. I'm okay with what I was handed in life...Because I now know that 2012 will be full of new memories, great ones that will drown out the old ones...And it's all thanks to my gorgeous mom, for making the choice to free herself, and the rest of us from that nightmare. And although our beautiful Nana is no longer with us physically, at least she got to see us freed. She got to see us all happy, finally. She even got to meet my love...And I couldn't have asked for a greater outcome in the year 2011. And I look forward to 2012, and many more years of happiness after that...Because it's okay to enjoy life, and to work for what we want. It's okay to be happy.

And I'm okay. Better than okay, actually...I'm happy.

-Alexandra Marie Shaw

...or as you know me better,

Miss Eccentric

I've been inked!

2011-02-12T21:00:00.000-08:00

Alright, so I know it's a bit redundant to blog two days in a row, but hey...It's not my fault awesome things keep happening to me...For this awesome thing, I must tell you two other things first.
One: I might have mentioned this in the past here on this blog, but too bad. I'm going to tell you again. When I was little, I had to have my immunization shots three times. The first time was the normal shots that every youngster gets. The second time was because my Mum's idiot mother had my records and didn't tell us, and my doctor made me get them again because I wasn't on record. The third time was because my idiot doctor lost the records, and again, I endured yet another butt-load of shots just to prove that I had them. This is the reason that I absolutely hate needles. I literally could not move my arms after the third round, and I was in cheer at the time, so that totally sucked. So let me reiterate: I HATE NEEDLES.

Now to the "other thing" number Two: My 2010 New Year's Resolution was to finish my novel. As of December that same year, I did just that. This year, 2011, my New Year's Resolution was to get published. I have also accomplished that (at the bottom of this post I'll put a plug in for ya, Captain). I have a wonderful friend on Facebook who is helping publish me on Amazon, he even got the art department to do a cover for my novel now. This is simply awesome. Another stipulation to my New Year's Resolution, was that if I happened to get published, I was to get a tattoo.

Now we're getting somewhere, eh?

I've been wanting a tattoo for a while. I wanted a single feather, on my left arm, to symbolize my novel. My novel is one of the most important things to me besides my loved ones, and the feather is a way to imprint that on my body forever, so I would never forget, not even for a second. Last night I conquered my fear of needles, I checked another thing off my Bucket-List, and I did it. I got the tattoo I wanted, and I could not be happier about it. It's bloody brilliant. I took a picture of it this morning, so everyone could see how great it looked, so check it out!

It's positioned on my left arm, just as I had wanted, right below the crook of my elbow. If you want to see more, check out my Facebook Profile.

Alright, so I know there are some controversies concerning tattoos. Some people think that marking your body permanently like that is stupid, that some day you will not feel the same way you did about it when you first got it, and then you would regret it. I don't believe that. I believe that when you care about something so much so that you do want that permanently marked on your body, you will never forget that, and it will always be with you. Upon hearing of my tattoo, a wise friend of mine (holla at the Captain!) said to, "remember that what's inside is really important, too...not just the outside". I completely agree. Who you are is not what you look like. However, I had to add to that, to show that what I did to the outside of my body was for the inside as well. So I replied, "of course! But the outside is a reflection of the inside, like in the case of the tattoo, it was an outward projection of what I was feeling on the inside..." And I completely believe that as well. When someone feels a certain emotion so strongly that they have to project it outwardly so that they --and everyone else-- can see it, that is a strong force indeed. And I have now vowed to live my life to the fullest. I'm gonna ride roller-coasters (may take some warming up to, but it will happen!). I'm gonna sport my ink. I'm gonna say what I want, do what I want, and live for today and tomorrow (very wise words from the Sandman...Hey, Apple!). Life is too short, people! Have fun with it! You know, that three-letter word that starts with F? 'Cause you know what, I'm not dead yet. So why start acting like it?

Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.

The Captain's Plug:
You will find the publishing company who helped me at Nightfire Publishing. I won't use the Captain's name here, because I don't want a bunch of people to bug him, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind y'all checking out his site. The people there at Nightfire are simply awesome, so if you need help with your publishing needs, please pay them a visit.

The Curse of the Ghostrider

2011-02-11T20:56:00.000-08:00

Okay, so anyone who knows me knows that I am like, the biggest chicken when it comes to heights. Therefore, it goes to show that I would also be terrified of roller-coasters. When going to Knott's Berry Farm the biggest thing I'll go on is the Jaguar, and that thing is like, the most tame ride there. Except for the stuff in the kiddie-area, of course. You see, this fear all started when I was about eight years old, and my family talked me into going on the Ghostrider, the big, rickety, wooden dinosaur that those stupid theme-park people have dubbed an "amusement ride". In my family's defense, they had ridden it before and had said that it wasn't that bad. And in a normal circumstance, I believe them to be right. It certainly isn't the worst ride there, and there are a lot of younger children that love the ride. I was not one of them.
We must have waited in line for an hour, I swear. It was a hot Summer afternoon. We got up to the cars finally, and we had decided that I was just barely tall enough to ride. My Mum and I slipped into the car together, because riding with my mom was the most logical decision in order to make me feel more comfortable. Next we had to put our seat-belts on. Now, one thing you must know about Ghostrider seat-belts, is that there is one regular belt for each person, like in a motor vehicle, and then there's a bar that locks down on your lap. One more thing you must know about the Ghostrider seat-belts, is that when I was eight-years-old, that was not the case. When I was eight, there was one single belt restraint that went over both passenger's laps, and it didn't really tighten up that much. So as my Mum and I sat and tried to tighten it enough for me so that it actually touched me, we started to doubt our decision to get on that damn ride. We both knew I wasn't secure, and my Mum, being the responsible, loving parent she is actually tried to inform the Knott's idiots of this restraint error. Unfortunately for her, they did not pay heed to the panicking mother. Instead, they started the ride, and there was nothing more she could do about it. The first hill you climb is the biggest. As you can imagine, the tiny little eight-year-old with no restraints on was not a big fan of that first big drop, and surely I was not a fan of the following drops, twists and turns. I had to sit in the fetal position, holding on to the belt and any bar I could get ahold of. My Mum also had to help by holding her arm around me, as the force of the ride was too much for a wimpy eight-year-old to completely handle by herself. By the time it was over, my Mum's arm was bruised and numb, and I was scarred for life.
Fast-forward eleven years, to a nineteen-year-old me, who is still terrified of roller-coasters, especially that particular one. I nearly died on it as a child, so there is no judging me on this standpoint. When you have a near-death experience on a roller-coaster, then you may tell me whether or not you might have a complex about it. Until then, back off. So there.
Anyway, went off subject a little there...Okay, so there I was, eleven years later, and I had finally worked up the courage to say, "okay, let's go" when my Mum suggests we ride the Ghostrider. I had made up my mind, and there was no changing it. It was just yesterday, in fact, on a Thursday, which surprisingly was a really good day to go, because there was virtually no line. We just walked up to the cars, waited for it to empty out, and got in. As I've said already, the restraints are considerably better than eleven years ago. So Mum and I sat, put our separate belts on tightly, and locked our --also separate-- bars over our laps. It seemed secure, so we were both feeling pretty confident. The ride started, we made it to the first big drop, and then we started climbing. The ride click, click, clicked loudly, but then suddenly, clunk, squeeaak! We stopped in the middle of our climb to the drop. My first thoughts: "Oh my God, I am cursed!"
And I just so happened to say this aloud. The people behind us cussed and said something along the lines of, "I don't want to ride this now". The people in front of us turned around and exclaimed, "oh, so this is your fault?!?" Mum and I explained how I nearly fell to my death when I was eight. They completely blamed me for this second freak accident, because as I had so wisely exclaimed, I was cursed. This was it. It was time for the Ghostrider to exact its revenge on me for surviving the first time. And this time, it was out for blood...
But then, as if a miracle had been sent by God, the ride started, and soon we were plunging down that first big drop. I screamed and closed my eyes. But for some reason, after that, I started laughing and yelling hysterically, as if I had lost too much oxygen and gone completely mad. My Mum tried asking me if I was having fun mid-ride, but all I could do was laugh and shake my head, saying "this is crap, I don't like this...!"
By the end of the ride, I was dizzy from my lack of oxygen, and I was shaking with adrenaline. As we walked off the ride and down the exit lane, I said to my Mum, "that was friggin' crazy. Wanna go again?"

Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.

"WHATEVER"

2011-02-05T20:33:00.000-08:00

The word has many meanings, to say the least. It's used in everyday life, by all kinds of people of different ethnicity's and generations and genders...All in all, I hear it way too often. It's like a filler-word. It's used when no one knows what else to say. For me, this word is used as a, "I don't want to start anything, so I'm gonna just let this go and I won't talk about it again."
I know I am guilty of using this word, but I am trying to stop myself now for future situations. However, to other people, this word takes on a whole new meaning. As mine is simply a way to keep the peace, others have used it in a way that suggests harsh dismissal. Sometimes when it's used in such a manner I imagine that the user of the word simply wants to say something along the lines of, "I don't care what the hell you're saying, I'd really like it if you'd shut up now. If you don't, I'm going to go all homicidal on you and murder you with a straw, then I'm going to do a voodoo dance on your grave to bring you back, just so my gerbil minions can eat you and then burn themselves alive. 'Kay?"
I don't always know why these thoughts go through my head, but it's nothing but the truth. I've always been the type of person who thinks if you have something to say to me, say it. Don't bull$h!t me with your nasty comments to which you try and disguise as a surrender. So you can imagine why I'd really rather know the true meaning behind a word such as "whatever", instead of just taking it as "they have nothing more to say". Because I know from experience that everyone always has more to say. Just in the beginning of this year I read in one of my favorite books that when people want to say something, are about to say something, but then hold themselves back for reasons such as not wanting to say anything socially unexceptionable, holding it on the tip of their tongue for a second and swallowing it...Well, these are called spill-words. I wholeheartedly believe in spill-words, however there are two types in my mind: Type one, the type that almost comes out but again, gets swallowed, and two, the type that comes out in one dismissal-word instead, a word that is loaded with spill-words. I'm more inclined to either just say what I mean, loud and clear, or I will use the type of spill-word that almost comes out but doesn't. This is because I know when to be loud, proud and opinionated, however, I also know when to shut my big fat mouth as to not hurt someone that I love. But be that as it may, I know far more people that use the other type of spill-word, the type that comes out as a nasty, snapped comment that is loaded with the true and crude meaning. Like the word, "whatever". Which brings me to my last point (I think, hehe). Words are just that: Words. People are the ones who put meaning behind them. Now, let me explain this so you don't take it the wrong way. Yes, I am a writer, and therefore find meaning and put meaning into every word I read and write. A story is not a story unless it has meaning. However, a word does not have meaning unless you tether either an emotion to it, or you act on that word, show it more than you say it. Take the word "love", for instance. I have heard this word in several different ways. Depending on who says it, it can either take on a profound meaning, or it can simply mean nothing. But it's not the act of saying the word itself that gives it meaning. It's what you do that counts. I find more meaning in someone silently looking you in the eyes, telling you that they understand you, or gingerly holding your hand, or hugging you when you need it, or making you cry with just one glance...It's the actions that love is truly shown in. When the word is thrown around so much you do not find meaning at the sound of it anymore, you know it's just empty sounds coming from someone's mouth. It's like that saying, "actions speak louder than words". We put meaning into words, and unfortunately they mean nothing unless you can back them up with your actions. And I don't know about you, but I can back up every word I write, and every word I speak. Because I mean each one, and I can prove it with my actions. How about you?

-Miss Eccentric.

P.S. Yes I know that some of that was crazy-rant worthy, and may not make complete sense, but sometimes I need to say what I feel. This was one of those times.

The Art of Writing a "Popular" Blog for the Ages:

2011-01-28T00:19:00.000-08:00

The art of blogging is a lost art indeed. Once upon a time, young people such as myself took on blogging as a way to get their word out there, a way to share their love of things, their frustrations, and occasionally to share their own stories as I do. These blogs were lengthy, and the contents were to some extent of good quality. They meant something, especially to fellow American's who just love to take full advantage of our right to Freedom of Speech. Blogging was a healthy way to learn, to laugh, and to share. That did not last very long. The age of technology has seemed to ware on the young people of this earth, and frankly they take advantage of the swiftness of "getting what they want". We all know that the English language has suffered the most from this, what with text-speak becoming the native language of the US. I am not here to preach about that now, because I'm sure everyone is tired of hearing it. And I don't think it's all bad all the time. When I'm just messing around with friends and family, I don't mind spelling things funny on purpose for humor, or adding a "lol" or "lmao" etc. at the end of a sentence, or even a fitting smiley-face instead. This is just for the enjoyment of my friends/family and I. Other than that when blogging and story-writing, I prefer to use the language that our ancestors created in order to allow us to fully understand each other during speech and reading/writing. However, this is not a "popular" way to get one's blog noticed by "blog walkers". So, I have comprised a small demonstration of how to make your blog more popular, by imitating what I have read during my own personal experience in blog-walking.

Step One: As the years go by, I have noticed a very dramatic decrease in the attention-span of the average teen. This might be because "evolution" is trying to tell us that we must keep up with the speeds of the computerized devices in which we live on. They get bored easily, thus, they do not enjoy reading lengthy paragraphs that stay on one subject too long. They prefer to read small tidbits of one subject, and then move on to the next in another, equally small paragraph. So do not write large paragraphs regarding one subject!

Step Two: Do not use large words. Although schools (I'm sure) are still trying to teach the youth words that make them sound more intelligent, they honestly do not understand most of what they are taught. For instance, if you were to ask a young person to use "judicious" in a sentence, it would go something like this: "when i judicious alot my hands get wrinkly". So keep your words simple, and to the point.

Step 3: Do not spell numbers out. It's much quicker for them to understand "3" rather than actually reading "three". And besides, who wants to take the time to spell out a five letter word when they can just hit one key and it will mean the same thing?

Step Four: Text-speak is, as I said, the native language of most young American's. Thus, if you are to get through to such an audience, you should speak their language! Words such as "okay" must be shortened to something more simple to read, such as just a "k". Also, if you are to say "with", instead go for the much simpler version, "w/", which granted, is only two characters smaller, but still. It's very taxing to press two more keys in a rush. And they're always in a rush.

Step Five: Italicizing your lettering as a way of adding emphasis on a certain word as I did above with "always", is completely unnecessary. Simply writing it in ALL CAPS is good enough. It wastes too much time to click the Italic button, and besides, no one knows how to read anything other than the fonts on a computerized screen, and the slant of the Italic lettering might throw them off and make them think that it was written in cursive, thus losing their interest immediately. Instead stick with caps, or simply add emphasis by repeating your important word or sentence more than once.

Step Six: Punctuation is unnecessary, and should be ignored altogether. A sentence such as, "let's go out tonight, I'll buy", should be more like, "lets go out tonight ill buy". Yes, in a normal society the "ill" could be construed as a word describing a feeling of sickness, however, in the context that it is used, they will assume that it was meant as an, "I'll". So again, I say, ignore punctuation. Unless, of course, you are to use excessive amounts of Periods and Exclamation Points instead.

Step Seven: Capitalizing letters in the appropriate places is a no-no. Do not capitalize "I", or the first letter in someone's name, or the first word in the beginning of a sentence. Who cares? No one. After all, it means the same thing when saying, "james rocks" rather than "James rocks". Instead, randomly capitalize letters in the middle of a sentence, just because it looks cooler. And maybe add a number in there. "jam3s rOcks!!!!!!"

Step Eight: Subject-matter matters. It's everything, really. If you don't pick the right subject, you'll lose your readers by the first ridiculously-small paragraph, no matter how many times you do tHiS. For instance, subjects such as politics, whales being hunted to extinction, the growing concern of the US Government trying to boot religion out of everything, or perhaps even a review of an intelligent documentary you saw on Discovery are not welcome. They're boring. No one wants to read of such things, because really, their brains are too full of video games and who-hooked-up-with-who as it is. It's a delicate balance in their small minds, and if their worlds are shattered with the knowledge that Florida is actually full of giant snakes in people's backyards instead of all fun-in-the-sun, they might have a System Failure. You must instead feed their need for knowing useless information, such as why Lindsay Lohan was arrested again, or what "Snooky" did on "Jersey Shore" last week. Paris Hilton is also a good subject. But remember, don't stay on that subject for too long!

Step Nine: Do not title your blog anything that makes sense. If you blog about Brittany Spears, her name must not be anywhere near the title. Instead, come up with something random like, "bald chick" or something. This also goes for your Labels. Don't add any Labels that have anything to do with what you said.

And finally, Step Ten, putting it together. Here is an actual-sized sample of what your new-and-improved blog should look like as to catch the attention and adoration of the young people today:

"ch33Tos r goood lmao

k so i was out w/ jess lasT weak and she was all dev hooked up w/ tiffany & i was all noooowaayy an it was epicness....lolz

then we yaked more an u know we was All talkin bout how we wached the kardashian's yestrday an heres my thots

1...it was funny wen khloe was all bring it on!!!! & kim was all wtf shut it iiiighttt???? and then kloe was all HOld ma earRINGs....!!!! i mean realy!!!she was al hoLd ma EARINGS! frreakin made ma day,,,,couldnt stop lmao all nite.......

;) tHen we got to tha mall an maed fun of the G33KS it was huge pwn..!!!!

.....holla at yall....ttfn!!!1"

Simply put, 'tis a masterpiece! Honestly, I think that I have just cracked-the-code on what the young people today enjoy. I have revolutionized what it is to create a blog in which every teenager can understand and relate to...

Now, on a more serious note, I am ashamed. The above content of this blog post is truly atrocious, and I promise you all that I will never post anything like that again. Grammar-Freak's honor! But I think I got my point across here.

-Miss Eccentric.

Feelings of Inadequacy...

2011-01-19T19:43:00.000-08:00

Alright, so obviously I haven't been really diligent with my postings for a while now, and this honestly bothers me...I used to post every three to four days, whether I was busy or not. I would always find the time, but nowadays it seems that I just don't really know what to blog about all the time, and I'm always worried that when I do have an idea, it's not going to be humorous, or have one of my infamous paranoid rants in it...So needless to say, I've been wanting to try and change this attitude. Also the fact that I have finished my novel, and therefore have more free time to blog, really makes me want to try again. However, the real turning point here was when my dear friend Saphira (holla at you girl!) sent me a link to this really funny blog. It's called Hyperbole And A Half, and truly the woman who writes it (Allie Brosh) is a humor genius. She uses this plain-old Paint program to illustrate her funny stories, and really, this just makes me feel completely inadequate. So, to show you all just how this has made me feel, I have decided to somewhat mimic (not steal, Allie Brosh said herself that if someone was to do sort of the same thing it's not stealing unless I completely copy a post or idea of hers, but to make a Paint character is not copying) her style by creating my own Paint illustrations, with my own style and my own story and my own words. Just for fun, and to put me back in the mood by changing-it-up every once in a while. So...

Okay, before, when I was writing my novel and blogging regularly, I felt like I was on top of the world, like I could tackle anything and come out the other end as the victor...

(Yes, my hair really has green streaks in it. I tried to make it bright turquoise, but my hair hates me and decided to be faded-green instead)

Then, I became so caught up in my novel and finishing it, because I wanted to win at writing and being young and having my first novel, so I took a break from blogging. And I felt good at first! That is, until I finished my novel, and I got the post-novel letdown...And to top it all off, I was just recently at a bookstore, buying some books that I've been wanting and browsing for new authors, when I found this really interesting book. It's called Halo, and it's written by an eighteen-year-old girl named Alexandra Adornetto. And to top that all off, this girl was first published when she was fourteen. Yes, you read right. Fourteen. This shook me to my core, and completely burst my little ego-bubble.

This worried me. I mean, if this girl was published at fourteen and now has a reputation and is making her way across seas from Australia, what's so amazing about a nineteen-year-old who wrote a novel in America? I mean, I'm an adult. It's quite amazing when young teens do stuff like finish novels because they're young, and really, the young people don't often do grown-up things like that. But that no longer applies to me. It's not so amazing now because most adults have accomplished stuff like I have, more even! It's quite disheartening, and quite frankly made me feel completely inadequate...

(To show just how bad this made me feel, I have purposefully spelled "inadequate" wrong in my illustration, indicating that I was so upset that I didn't think I was worthy of trying to be perfect anymore...)

I didn't know what I should do. I mean, I wanted to be accomplished! I wanted my two years of novel-writing (which I could have used for being a bratty-teen, but didn't because I wanted to make a difference) to mean something! I wanted people to recognize the fact that not all girls my age had the maturity and the determination to do something as amazing as writing a whole fiction novel that is quite large indeed! But I just kept thinking, "it's too late, I'm too old now..."
This changed when I saw Allie's blog. It was so awesome that I just had to go back and read her earlier posts. I read all of 2010's posts and some of her 2009 posts. And it turns out, not too long ago she wasn't even that popular! All she started with were some funny stories and some dorky little drawings, and that's all she had! She didn't even have a job, she admits it herself! But through perseverance and humor, she somehow managed to become so popular and accomplished that she has several thousand followers and now gets money and is super awesome and (as she would say) has almost won the internet. And it got me thinking...

And it's true! I mean, how many nineteen-year-old's do you know that have committed their lives to one thing at such an early age, without changing their minds a million times? I have written a whole novel. I am nineteen, and I have done something that most people my age and sometimes older have no attention-span to actually finish. And you know what? I'm proud of myself, and (to quote my new fave blogger) I want to win the internet, too! Or, if not win, at least come in a close second behind Miss Allie Brosh!!! So, in conclusion, this is my way of saying that I want to blog more. I might not blog all the time, because I want a life too, but I want to make it a habit to come up with more than one blog a month. It's the least I can do for myself as a young writer, to spread my fingertips and type! So wish me luck, fellow bloggers, and Happy Reading!

Blog ya undoubtedly sooner rather than later, Miss Eccentric.

P.S. I apologize for the last drawing here being too large and hanging over the edge of the post like that...However, if I made it any smaller you wouldn't be able to see the writing on it, so I suppose it will just have to do.

My New (or rather, old) Underwood Typewriter!

2011-01-18T00:19:00.000-08:00

This blog post is reserved for anyone willing to help tell me what model/year this Underwood typewriter is! I've cleaned it up and successfully unstuck every key, but I'm not sure how old it is or what it could be worth (other than personal worth, since I am a writer and this is my first real typewriter). Please help if you can!

Oh yeah, I found the serial number on a little metal tag to the right of the ribbon, if that will help:
11-7388886
Thanks =)

-Miss Eccentric

Battle of the Eight Legged Demon...

2011-01-09T15:01:00.000-08:00

Last night, was possibly the scariest night of my life. Why the melodrama, you ask? I'll tell you.
There I was, minding my own business, reading a book before slipping into a peaceful slumber, when all of the sudden, something in the corner of my eye catches my attention. My head jerks to my right to see what it is, and there, standing proudly on a pillow right beside me, is a spider. And not just any old tiny, clear, jumping spider that you find in your shower. No, this one was huge, dark brown and hairy, with big vampire teeth and the demeanor of a werewolf during a full moon. And it wanted me. It was hungry, and I was on the menu. For a moment I sat in pure stillness, in fear that if I moved too much, it might jump on my neck and start sucking my life away, but then I worked up the courage to attempt to smash it with something. But the moment I got near it, it jumped to life, and with some fancy tactical maneuvers that a ninja would envy, it escaped me, stealthily sliding away into the crack between my bed and the wall. I tried looking for it, worried that it would come back for more later, but could not find the little bugger, as it had put its camouflaged body-suit on during its escape, therefore disappearing into the background. I sat back against the wall once more with my book in hand, deciding that it was just a stupid, tiny little spider, and what harm could it cause? It probably got distracted with something else down that crack that spiders like, so why would it come back up just to get revenge on me for trying to smash it? So I continued to read, and Joey (the cat, not the character from Friends) began to clean again, apparently finished with giving me strange looks for spazzing at seemingly nothing a moment ago. However, after a few minutes of blissful reading, all homicidal thoughts forgotten, the nightmare returned. Only this time, the ninja-spider was on, my arm. I spazzed immediately without conscious thought, waving my arm about, trying to get the beast off me. I paused in my frantic waving as the spider in question dropped off my arm, somewhere onto my blanket instead. I froze, staring at the place where I could have sworn I saw it land, but I did not see it on my navy-blue blanket. And then, to my horror, the reason for its absence on my blanket revealed itself.
It was on my arm again.
This time my instinct to kill set in, and instead of spazzing like an idiot, I began to swat viciously at my own arm like an idiot, trying to vengefully kill the damn thing once and for all. I then proceeded to jump out of bed, and with careful precision, I smacked and banged on my bed as a monkey might. At this point Joey had obviously had quite enough of my spazzing about, so he jumped of my bed and went to casually lay on the ground in front of the little heater in my room. Finally my brain kicks in a little, and a thought breaks through my murderous fog of panic.
"Eh, maybe I should do something useful and try finding the little bugger..." I thought, and my body responded by ceasing the embarrassing swatting-of-the-bed. I paused, breathed, and recovered my pride enough to calmly reach to my covers and peel them back, searching in between each blanket for the beast of a spider. Now, this may seem like an easy task, however, I have like, eight blankets and a sheet on my bed due to the very cold conditions of Southern California in January. Alright, that sounded completely ridiculous, but hey. It's very cold in my room this time of year, okay? Anyways, where was I? Ah right, searching for the demon with eight legs. Okay, so I peeled back every single one of my blankets, one by one, twice, just trying to find that damn spider. I would have just let it go, because really, how much damage can a tiny little spider cause? It worked the first time thinking this, when it had escaped through the crack beside my bed, so why wouldn't it work again? Why couldn't I let it go? Well, maybe because it came back last time on my arm, so why wouldn't it do it AGAIN? This reasoning seemed perfectly rational at the time. So, I continued to search. Finally, after a few more frantic flippings of my blankets, I spotted it, sitting quietly and unharmed on the side of my mattress, waiting to strike. I froze, afraid that it would escape once again. Then, very slowly, I reached over to my desk, grabbed a paper towel that I had been using with my paints the other day, and I approached the creature. It sat perfectly still, daring me to do something. Daring me to even try and kill it. At that moment I summoned all my courage, reared my hand back, and swiftly and efficiently smashed where the spider was sitting. I then carefully pulled back the bundled paper towel, trying to see if I had indeed smashed it, and I found remnants of spider guts on the murder weapon in question. However, there was no body. I glanced down, wondering if it had somehow survived, or, perhaps, maybe it had just fallen to the ground under my bed. I weighed my options: Either I could take the guts on my paper towel as a sign that it was now dead somewhere underneath my bed, or, I could continue to let the horrible thoughts run through my head, telling me that it was now under my bed bleeding to death somewhere, and that in its last breath it would jump up once more and come after me again, so at least its last move in life would be to eat the human who had killed it. Let's just say that I chose the latter option, thus, I knew that I had to find the body before I could ever even think of trying to sleep again. So I carefully pulled a few things from underneath my bed, using a paintbrush to pick through some of the things. And finally, as if God had decided to give me a break on this one, I found it. A tiny, twitching, grotesque carcass on the carpet, clearly either seconds away from death or, hopefully, already dead. I disposed of the body using the murder weapon, and it was as if a weight had been lifted. I could finally sleep. I could finally lie in my own bed, without the fear of a hairy little monster eating me from the inside out in my slumber. I laid back in bed, in the peaceful darkness of the night, cat deciding that I was sane enough to sleep on again, thus jumping up and lying on me. I was warm, comfortable and ready to relax and sleep.
And I thought, at that moment, "what if it wasn't alone? What if spiders are like rats, if you see one, fifty more will be hiding in the shadows, waiting for you to kill one of their own so they can avenge their soldier with malice...?"

...Sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs bite...Muahahahahahahaa...

-Miss Eccentric.

BTW: Notice how I added that the cat was basically disgusted with my behavior? Yeah, well, I'm a little peeved that fatty didn't pull his weight last night! His job as a cat is to kill the critters that get in their people's way! But no, he just sat around like, "what, Mom? I'm not getting that spider. You can get the spider, I'll just sit here and watch with a look of amusement on my fat little face."
...Yeah...Just a tad annoying...

Small Announcement:

2010-12-29T11:40:00.000-08:00

Last night, the 28th of December 2010, I officially finished my novel, proofreading and all. After I sat and stared at the last words of my novel, amazed at what I had accomplished, I decided to use that dreaded Word Count in which every writer must use at least once. Now, before I finished writing my novel and started proofreading, I had been reading up on how large a novel should be. I read that to make it technically a novel, it has to be at least 50,000 words or more. Average novels run anywhere from 70,000 to 90,000 words, and a good sized novel (such as the later Harry Potter novels) run anywhere from 100,000 to 150,000 words. 200,000 words or more is a bit excessive, and very few publishers will even bother to read it. As the Word Count on my own writing program did it's thing, painstakingly counting my 262 page novel, I waited in worry. Earlier, before I was finished writing it, I was worried that I would have to fill it with too much nonsense to make my quota. Luckily it was in the 170,000 word range already, so I finished it how I wanted to, but then I had to worry if it was going to be too much, and would I have to downsize...I did not want to do that. Everything I wrote thus far fits in my mind, even the little things that seem insignificant mean something to me. They add something in there that helps tell the story, and without them something might not feel right. Might feel empty. So finally, the word count was in, and the end result: 176,723 words altogether, 14 chapters (not including Prologue and Epilogue), and 262 pages of novel-ly fun. Now all I have to do is write out a query letter, and send it to as many publishing companies as my little mind can think of! Wish me luck, and if you have any helpful hints please leave a comment! Thanks <3

-A.M. Burnshaw, Future Published Author

P.S. I posted this on my other blog too, so the deja vu you are feeling if you've read both blogs is not just in your head. Or maybe it is. What do I know? Teehee...

The One, the Amazing, the Awesome, the Legendary, the Coveted, and the Best, the Number Two Pencil!

2010-11-07T20:12:00.000-08:00

Legend has been told that there is a one and only most wanted pencil, one that is not even one to begin with: It's the Number Two Pencil. Throughout the years this fabled pencil has gone down in history as the lucky pencil to pretty much everyone who wants a pencil. For some reason all who spot the pencil claim to love it, and then they must have it. Say there's a Number Two Pencil sitting in the middle of the street, for instance. Inevitably, one person will come along who spots the pencil, notices that it is indeed the great Number Two Pencil, and scream's "STOP! Don't move, it's a Number Two Pencil!!!" whilst running in the middle of the street. And if that person were to be asked why they ran in the middle of the street to grab a stupid pencil, they will again inevitably say, "it's my lucky pencil!" as way of explanation. 'Tis the curse of the Number Two Pencil, it seems...Everyone thinks that it is the best pencil in the world, and will do anything to get their hands on one. It's like a conspiracy! I mean, how else do you explain it? It's like the company who makes the pencils ingrained some kind of mind-control device inside the pencil, one that tells people that it's the best pencil ever, and that YOU WANT THIS PENCIL ONLY, IT IS A SPECIAL PENCIL. That way, people will always strive to get their pencils, no matter how great the competition is! It's like they want everyone in the world to carry around a Number Two Pencil, thinking that it's some kind of special talisman, so they can later activate the mind-control device inside the pencils and brainwash us into doing exactly as they say like giving them money and recruiting other countries and polishing their shoes and making more pencils and getting their coffee and giving them more money so they can TAKE OVER THE WORLD!!!

Okay, so maybe that's just a wee bit improbable. But it could be possible! Heck, even I, the one sitting here typing away about conspiracies, will admit that I have a certain fondness of the dreaded Number Two Pencil. Why, you ask? Well, I don't know why! All I know is that I may have been brainwashed by the pencil company to love their pencils, but I still have my free will, and I will not carry around a pencil of theirs like a crazy person and get them their coffee! I will strike against the Number Two Pencil movement! If I see a Number Two Pencil in the middle of the street, I will not run and grab it for the sake of having it, I will leave it lying on the ground to get run over! And I advise all of you to follow my lead! Do not fall into the trap of the Number Two Pencil! If you see one, just stick your chin up in the air, and keep walking! And spread the word about the Anti-Number Two Pencil Act (ANTPA)!!! You can do it, I know you can. Just resist the temptation and allure of the Number Two Pencil!

Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.

House: Massage Therapy

2010-10-12T23:49:00.000-07:00

Okay, I just wanted to do a very brief overview of last night's House episode. First of all, might I just say, it was awesome as usual. Second, I liked it because this time they addressed the fact that House and Cuddy were still procrastinating over the whole moving-on-to-the-next-step thing. In this case, it was Cuddy letting House spend the night at her place, and House giving up his old massage therapist because she was a hooker. Literally. Plus, the whole thing with the patient was really cool because he totally made the connection and diagnosed her so easily without hardly any help. It was fun, because they were trying out a new female doctor on the team, and she was totally stupid, and she had just finished a residency in psychiatry, but she could not see that the patient was actually just Schizophrenic and that all her symptom's were caused by the medication she was taking to handle that. No, instead House, the one who was not all into psychology, figures it out himself in one brilliant light-bulb moment. Anyway, so in the end House gives up his massage therapist, and Cuddy lets him spend the night, and have dinner with her and her daughter Rachel and everything. Cuddy leaves the room for a brief moment at dinner, and Rachel grabs House's cane and puts it in her mouth, and he gets all worked up and gets it back and wipes it off, and then he's all, "aren't you just the cutest thing" even though he was clearly being sarcastic. It's kind of lame how bad he really is with kids, but next week supposedly he's going to babysit Rachel, so that should be interesting, and let's hope that he bonds with her and gets over his thing about kids. Yay! So all and all, it was still awesome, and I can hardly wait till next Monday as usual!
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.

Happy Birthday, Big Bro!

2010-10-06T11:09:00.000-07:00

Today my brother turns twenty-one. I know, right? It's really quite a big deal, and I can't believe it's happening! Today he has the right as an American citizen to drink a beer with his buddies, or like he wants to do today, with his parents. It's kind of cool, if you think about it, how one day you are not allowed to drink, and the next, poof, you can drink. Well, I wish only the very best to my brother today, and I hope he has a blast with his carne asada for dinner and his beer.

Happy 21st Birthday!!!

Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.

House: Unwritten

2010-10-05T11:31:00.000-07:00

Alright, so I was too tired to do this last night, but HOLY CRAP THIS EPISODE WAS SO BLOODY AWESOME IT WAS EVEN BETTER THAN THE LAST ONES WERE AAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Okay, so I am so liking this new dynamic with House being happy with Cuddy and everything. It's actually really fun! This time he was trying to find something that he and Cuddy had in common, because he thinks that once the honeymoon stage of the relationship is over, she's going to realize that they have nothing in common and dump him. He took her go-cart racing, and that was fun til she lost to Wilson's girlfriend Sam and hurt her neck. The funniest part of those scenes was when House avenged his girlfriend by beating Sam's butt in the race. And how he beat her? He used his cane to unplug her go-cart. He totally cheated, but it was bloody hilarious! In the end Cuddy told House that they didn't need anything in common but each other, and that she liked their relationship the best because it was not common.
Also a really great thing about this episode was that the patient was a famous author, and House was totally obsessed with her books. He even went so far as to steal the lady's typewriter ribbon and send it through an MRI to see what was written on it, and then print it all out and put it together to read her latest book. And the best part? He mostly diagnosed her using nothing but her book, and how she wrote it for the characters. It was sweet. And not, "awe, isn't that sweet?" more like, "holy crap that was sweet!". I think the funniest part though was at the very end, he was talking to the patient that he had just healed, and he was all upset because she didn't answer anything for any of the characters in the end of her book, and she planned on not writing any more books for that series. So he was all, "you have to finish it better!" and she was all, "I think my ending was perfect because each person who reads it can come up with their own ending", and let me just tell you I agree with House, thank you very much! I hate it when an author ends it without answering any questions, because then you just wonder forever and ever and you never get an answer and it SUCKS! Anyway, so House was pissed because of what she said, and like he always does when someone hurts him, he was planning on hurting her back. He was going to tell her that her son (who she based her main character off of, and who died in a car crash and that's why she was sick) didn't have aneurysm like he originally told her, but then he saw Cuddy in the background watching, and he switched gears and said that her son was very luck to have a mother like her! It was so strange, really, that he completely stopped his track of evilness because he wanted to be a better man for Cuddy! Amazing...Anyways, as House left the patient's room, Cuddy said that he did a really good thing in there, and House just kept walking saying "shut up" as he went, causing Cuddy to smile fondly and me to friggin' laugh my fool butt off as I watched. It was truly epic, and if this season continues to go like this, I am going to be soooo sad when it finally ends...But at least if it ends good, I won't be pissed off that House is miserable and they ended it horribly. So anyway, I loved this episode. It might just be my favorite episode now.
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.

House: Selfish

2010-09-27T23:51:00.000-07:00

Okay, I hate to sound a bit repetitive here, but House was AWESOME!!!
...Again...
Yeah, enough of that. Anyway, I really was happy with this episode! House and Cuddy told everybody about them being together, and that got a different and funny reaction out of everyone (Wilson didn't believe it at first, but then Cuddy kissed House, and that wasn't enough so in the end she had to put her hand somewhere private and the look on Wilson's face was priceless), and at first it was sketchy because House and Cuddy kept agreeing with each other over medical decisions even though they didn't really agree, but then they worked it out in the end by agreeing to be completely and brutally honest with each other about their opinions in the future. Which is good! They get to be happy about being a couple, and then they get to go to work and be exactly how they used to be with all the tricking each other and stuff to treat the patients! Which is fine with me because I always thought it was funny when House would come up with a crazy idea that Cuddy would turn down and then he would figure out a way to do it behind her back anyway. So...All and all, it was all good, and hilarious as usual, and I can't wait til next week!!!
So...That's all I got.
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.

Validation

2010-09-22T21:08:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I found this video a few years ago, and I loved it so much I just thought I'd share it with y'all! It's kind of long, but I guarantee you will not be wasting your time if you watch the whole thing! It's really an inspiring short movie. Enjoy!
-M.E.

House: Now What

2010-09-21T01:17:00.000-07:00

Alright, just as I thought, tonight's season premier was AWESOME! It had the usual sarcastic humor, and House actually said the L-word to Cuddy! The main points that worry me are that when James (Wilson) came in through House's window to check on him, and House tried to tell him that he was in there with Lisa (Cuddy), and brought him to his room to show him and everything, Lisa hid in the closet and House had to make up a lie to not sound crazy again. Which gives a nice opening for "House is hallucinating again", because logically speaking, if he were hallucinating, his mind would create a scenario in which to explain why House was the only one who could see her, in this case that Lisa hid in the closet because she "didn't think he was ready to make them public yet". Also I was having a bit of deja vu with the whole "this isn't going to work because I can't change and I'll be a jerk to you and you'll realize you hate me and we'll break up" thing House did with Stacey when she left Mark for him. But Cuddy handled it perfectly by saying that she didn't want him to change, that she loved him because he was an amazing guy and she wanted him to stay the same amazing guy. And she left for work with a kiss and a smile from the both of them, and they were all happy again, but the minute the door closed behind them, both Lisa and Greg's (House's) smiles disappeared. Also I'm a tad worried about Thirteen (Remy Hadley), because she lied that she was going to Rome for experimental treatment for her Huntington's, but then just disappeared instead. Which basically makes me think that she might be going somewhere to die, because her disease has worsened and she just doesn't want to be seen at her worst.
But despite my worries that they will completely ruin the last season, I'm trying to stay optimistic and just look forward to the next episode! Which I am, because I still currently love that show the best, even though it has the potential to go south. Because it also has the potential to be quite awesome!!!
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.
P.S. Maybe I'll post again next week after I watch House!

House is BACK!!!

2010-09-20T14:35:00.000-07:00

Today is the season premier for House, my favorite TV show ever!!! I am so excited, I can hardly wait till later when our DVR records it and we can watch it! I just hope they don't totally ruin the whole show...'Cause the season finale from season six was great and all, but what if they mess with it? In case you didn't catch the season finale in question, House lost a very important patient, one he actually got real close to, and he was on the verge of going back to taking Vicodin because of it. You see, he quit his therapy because he tried doing everything the therapist said, but it didn't work. Everyone else in his life ended up happy, and with someone, but he was just as miserable. Wilson was moving in with Sam, and he kicked House out, and Cuddy was not only moving in with Lucas, but she had also become engaged with him, and she totally was a witch with a B to House saying that she didn't love him and that he needed to get over it. And then House's patient dies and the only thing he thinks that will make him feel better, is if he numbs himself with pain meds. So he was in his bathroom, about to take the pills, when Cuddy shows up and tells him that she broke it off with Lucas, and she wanted to take a chance and be with House. She also says the words, "I love you", and then House drops the pills on the ground and they kiss. It ends there, so they left us all thinking, "are they a couple now? Will they get married? What's next season going to be like with them together?". This worries me only because I have read that there are rumors that either House or Cuddy will die at the end of this last season, and that would greatly piss me off. And we're also not sure whether House is hallucinating again or not, so that's worrisome...I mean, House asked Cuddy if he was hallucinating, and she asked if he had taken the pills, and he said no, but does that really mean that it's real? It wouldn't be the first time they tricked us into thinking that Cuddy and House were together but then turned it around and said that House was hallucinating. But I don't know...Why would they go through the whole explanation that House didn't take the pills so therefore wasn't hallucinating if it wasn't true? I just don't want to watch this LAST season, and be completely peeved about it forever because they ruined it by saying that House was either dead or miserable in the end. But I also don't want them to change his whole character and make him all lovey-dovey with Cuddy twenty-four-seven, ya know?
*acain*
Well, I guess I'll just have to wait till tonight to see what happens, eh? I'll try to post something about it after I watch it, so expect another post from me!
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.
P.S. Cross your fingers that the episode is epically awesome!

The end of an era...

2010-09-13T22:17:00.000-07:00

I just saw on the news today, that the New York Times newspaper is going out of print. No, you are not hallucinating, I really said that the New York Times is not going to be printed anymore. Not because they're going out of business, but because they're doing it all online now. Gone are the times when you could pick up a newspaper on your way to work, or outside your home in the morning, and actually read the news on paper. Now they expect you to log on to your computer and read it online! What has this country come to, when you can't even hold a newspaper in your hands anymore? This is just like what they're trying to do with books. They think if they provide us with electronic book readers, we'd rather buy that instead of buying an actual book. I have said it before, and I will say it again: I will never, ever give up my way of life, the way in which I read things on paper, not computerized screens. Where I go to an actual book store, pick a book I like, and bring it home with me, stashing it on one of many bookshelves. Where I can physically touch a book bound with paper, and glue, and printed in ink. Or regarding the newspaper, what will I do when we can no longer fight over who's turn it is to read the comics? Or do a crossword? Or read an article? What is happening to society to make them believe that words printed on paper should be obsolete? Are they just too lazy to do the printing, or is it the consumers who are too lazy to leave their computer-caves and get the paper? Or (and this one makes the most since in this day and age), is it because they think we're "wasting too much paper" and they want to "go green"? Personally I don't think that paper is our problem here when it comes to the environment. I think its bottled water companies who continue to manufacture plastic bottles that -when left in the sun for a period of time- cause Cancer, not to mention that no matter how many times they claim that the plastic is completely recyclable, they are lying, because they can only melt down and reuse a percentage of the plastic on their bottles, and the rest most likely goes to some dump somewhere to sit and pollute our air for several years. Or how about the so-called "green" cars they just love to push on us? They may be nice for our air, because they don't use gas, but they always forget to mention that the batteries they use in those cars have mercury in them, and mercury is the opposite of "environmentally safe". They can not dispose of mercury. They can only dump it in some landfill somewhere away from society (hopefully), because it literally will create dead-zones wherever they dump it. Do you know what mercury poisoning can do to you? Well, just in case you don't, here's a list of some of the symptoms, so you know just how dangerous it really is:

You can develop Psychological and Neurological problems such as: Short term memory loss, angry fits, suicidal tendencies, inability to sleep, low self esteem, Belle's Palsy, Multiple Sclerosis, Shingles, Epilepsy/convulsions, Nervous Tension, the shakes of hands, feet, head, etc, twitching of face or other muscles and more, headaches, vertigo, tinnitus, speech and visual impairment, Glaucoma, etc. You may also get Cardiovascular problems, like arrhythmia, high blood pressure, heart attack, weak pulse etc. Also you can get digestive tract problems, oral problems, respiratory problems including asthma, skin problems, certain blood diseases, allergies, and different Cancer's including Hodgkin's disease, Leukemia and more. The list goes on and on, but I think I'll stop here, since I've gotten my point across well enough.

My main point here is it would be stupid and hypocritical to stop printing newspapers and attempt to replace other paper products such as books just because it's not "green", when the use of mercury in batteries or plastic's that cause Cancer will most definitely kill us all much, much faster. So what is it? Why on earth would they stop printing newspapers? I mean, it may only be the New York Times now, but that will not be the end of it. Next it will be all newspapers, and then what? All books? All magazines? All paper products altogether? Next thing you know we'll be living in a world of technology, with no more human contact at all. It's bad enough that people rather text each other than talk on the phone. I mean, I will admit that it is fun to write messages to your friends and family on the computer, but if I had a choice, I would rather talk to them in person, or even on the phone!
I guess what I'm trying to say here, is that it seems like an end of an era to get rid of newspapers, and there is more of this crap to come. It saddens me to think that my children will not know what a newspaper actually printed on paper is, but I know I am right. And there's nothing I can do but stand by and watch, and maybe complain and plea about it on this here blog...
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.

In loving memory of the ones we lost...

2010-09-11T13:50:00.000-07:00

Today marks the ninth year that we have all managed to live through since the 9/11 tragedy. On this day, I'd like to send my thoughts and my prayers out there to the people who have lost their loved ones, and to the amazing people who survived, and who continue to feel the pain of that tragedy to this day. I send prayers also to the volunteers who risked their own lives to help after the Twin Tower's fell, and who also feel the effects of that day nine years later. They all deserve more than just a "thank you", but since that is the only way I know how to honor them, I would like to say, thank you very, very much for helping to take care of that part of our country in it's time of need. We are all forever in your gratitude.
Besides the men and women who risked their lives that day (and so long after) to help at the Twin Tower's wreckage, I would also like to thank the men and women who continue to fight for our freedom even today: Our soldiers, who die for us every day in a foreign land to help protect us from further terrorism. Many people hold grudges against those noble men and women, but may I remind those people that it is not the soldiers who declared war, it is not the soldiers who send more troops out there to fight, it is not the soldiers who decide what actions to take, and it is not the soldiers who are to blame for the war. It is our government, and the people who run it who decide on such things, and our soldiers are merely doing what is right and what is necessary to protect their loved ones' freedom back at home. And for that, I say they are brave, and noble, and deserve thanks as they return home, not protests and dishonor.
So again I must say, one more time, to our soldiers, volunteers, family, friends, and fellow human beings who have all suffered due to the 9/11 incident: Thank you.

-Miss Eccentric.

Inspiration

2010-08-23T12:52:00.001-07:00

We all find it in very different things, don't we? I've known people to become inspired by many things that I may not find inspiring, yet at the same time the product that person comes out with in the end is quite inspiring despite me not really agreeing with them. For instance, I'm not a huge fan of abstract art. I'm a perfectionist, so anything I do must look like something from real life, or I believe it to be rubbish. But despite my feelings about abstract art, I still find it inspiring when I see someone create a work of art that is considered abstract. Not because it's necessarily my thing, but because it's their thing, and I can plainly see that they truly love it.
My Mum finds her passion in things like cooking, or carving wood, or even sculpting clay. She loves the ocean, and anything to do with it. She gasps at the magnificence of a giant wave, and cries when she hears bagpipes playing, with the beat of the music vibrating in her chest. She brags about her children's talents, and she will do anything for her family. She is a passionate person, and she inspires me.
My Dad finds his passion in working with computers, writing (much like me), and providing for his family. He loves old fashioned music (the good kind), and if you catch him in a good mood he'll sing along with the song. He turns green when my brother or I get hurt, and he tries to keep things light and humorous at all times. He is a passionate person, and he inspires me.
My Big Bro finds his passion in computer work as well as my dad, although his is more artful. He loves to design art in graphics, and if he can help someone at the same time, he'll do it in a second. He despises men who take advantage of young women, and he lights up if you sit and listen to him ramble on about his graphic work. He is also passionate, and don't tell him this, but he inspires me as well.
Most of all, my family as a whole inspires me. They keep me going even when I'm doubting myself. So much in life can be inspiring, it's hard to believe anyone can feel as if they don't have passion in their lives. I find my passion in everyday things, things like a really good book, a painting that takes your breath away (Monet does that to me to this day), a sunset that lights the sky with oranges and pinks and purples, shining brightly and colorfully. Music. Any kind really, as long as it's good. But the most inspiring music for me is piano music. My favorite song is Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. I also love bagpipes, and the feeling I get as the beat vibrates through my own chest. Just thinking of my ancestors, two very different, very Scottish men who found their passion in writing just like I do, makes me swell with pride. But the most inspiring thing of all for me, is witnessing someone enjoy something I've created. I get a rush like no other when people tell me they love my story, or a painting I've made. Just knowing that what I do is not all for nothing keeps me fueled and ready for more. Inspiration is funny like that. One minute you're living life as usual, and the next, your own inspiration trigger hits you, and you have to do something you're passionate about or you'll explode. I've learned what triggers my feelings of inspiration, and I suggest that everyone find their own trigger, and use it to create something beautiful!
-Miss Eccentric.
P.S. Okay, yeah this post was all romanticized and everything, but I'm in a really good mood today. And there's no way I'm going to apologize for that. So there. And yes, I know I've done a post similar to this before, but whatev. I wanted to do it again.

Translation from Artemis Fowl: The Atlantis Complex

2010-08-12T14:19:00.000-07:00

In the seventh installation of the Artemis Fowl series by Eoin Colfer, the made-up fairy language is Gnommish (as it is in the previous installations as well), and it is written on the bottom of every page, holding a secret message in the alphabetical characters. And like I said in my last post, this code is quite easy to crack, as it is basically no more than a replacement of our own alphabet. The grammar and spelling of words are the same. Which is why it was not hard for me to memorize the series of characters used in the Gnommish alphabet, thus making it super-duper easy for me to translate the code in the books, more specifically this latest one. So, without further ado, here is the translation:

Note: In the Gnommish code, a dot is used as a space, and an arrow is used as a period. However, other than that there is no punctuation. Which is why I have added the punctuation in myself, as I see fit. And just so you know what the Gnommish alphabet looks like, here's a chart I got from The Artemis Fowl Files:

Also, when I use parentheses during the translation, it means that I'm adding a note myself, and it is not part of the actual translation.

"From the V-diary (video diary) of Artemis Fowl II, commentary by Dr. J. Argon, LEP (Lower Elements Police) consultant and grand probemeister (not exactly sure what that means, but that's how it's spelled in the book) of the psych brotherhood.
Artemis Fowl appears on screen. He is disheveled and toys incessantly with a small coin. Both the untidiness and the fidgeting are most unusual. Artemis Fowl is known for his attention to detail, especially where his own grooming and presentation are concerned. His voice too is cause for worry. Stress readings are in the nineties, and his lower ranges are skewed a full third of an octave below the norm, based on comparisons with interview-room recordings.
Artemis holds the coin between his thumb and forefinger, and we see that there is a circular hole in the center. The coin obviously holds great significance for the boy. He slams it onto the desk, then picks it up again and spins it - unable, it would seem, to let it be. Early signs of compulsion. Worrying...
He speaks.
Artemis: 'People called me a boy genius. A wunderkind. Perhaps I was a prodigy. But I will be fifteen soon, and too old for that label. So what am I then? A teenage criminal mastermind, perhaps. Or just a common thief. Who can a thief trust? There were a few I thought. But could I have been wrong? Is that possible?' Artemis taps the coin against the surface of the desk precisely twenty times before speaking again. Perhaps there is no significance to the number twenty. Artemis Fowl frowns and rubs the deep line between his brows.
Artemis: 'I thought I knew everything. Now I think I know too much. This new knowledge: These compulsions are taking me over. Soon they will drive my very speech patterns.' He taps the coin on the desk. Twenty taps again. He seems not to want to do it, but is compelled. Oh dear. It is just as Captain Short said. I am worried now, very worried...
Note: Check legality of using Insulin Shock Therapy or possibly Psychosurgery on humans."

(Note that every-other sentence, Artemis counts his words in fives. Such sentences include: "Perhaps I was a prodigy", "So what am I then?", "A teenage criminal mastermind, perhaps", "Or just a common thief", "Who can a thief trust?" and "I thought I knew everything". This observation may seem insignificant to most people, however, I know that Artemis' compulsive behavior includes counting things -including his sentences- in fives, and any number that can be derived from five, such as ten, fifteen, twenty, and so-on and so-forth, thus making this small observation completely relevant to Dr. J. Argon's analysis of Artemis, and of course anyone reading this.)

It ends there, on page 91, and continues to repeat itself four times starting over on pages 92, 181, and 270, finally ending on the last page (page 357) with a cut-off "psyc-" at the end, making it 19 characters (including spaces and periods) missing from the last message-repeat. And don't hold it against me for being that specific. I am a very thorough person, and determined as well. So I didn't want to leave anything out, not even the amount of times it repeated and on what pages the repeats started on. So there. No judgment allowed, thank you.

Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.
P.S. Haha, my sign-off has five words in it=D

Artemis Fowl: I AM FINISHED!!!

2010-08-10T15:17:00.000-07:00

Alright, so my last post was a bit on the crazy-stalker-fan side of things, but I was super excited and I have every right to be, because the book really was that cool.
Artemis Fowl: The Atlantis Complex (the seventh in the series) arrived on the fourth, and I finished reading it yesterday. Which is a good omen (you would know what I'm talking about if you read it). Eoin Colfer really did knock himself out writing this one, and I simply did not want to put it down until I finished it. But I forced myself to slow down, pace myself, that way I didn't finish it in like, two days instead of five. 'Cause then I'd be disappointed that it was over already. But five days was as slow as I could go. And like I said, if you were to read the book, you would know that finishing it in five days was a perfect tribute to the story. Anyway, I immensely enjoyed this book, and I might even go as far as to say that it was the funniest in the series yet. You see, one of the main plot lines in the story is that Artemis has contracted a mental illness the fairies call Atlantis Complex, which usually only guilt-ridden fairies contract. But since Artemis has meddled in fairy magic so much, and he lived a life of crime for many of his younger years, he was vulnerable to the illness. This Complex is described to be sort of like OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder), with a little paranoia mixed in. And in extreme cases, the patient may develop Multiple Personality Disorder.
In Master Fowl's case, he gets all the symptoms. At first it's just an obsession with straightening things, and counting (it's always fives, because five is a nice round number whereas four is the bad number because it means death. Literally for the Chinese community, since four sounds a lot like there word for death), and of course the paranoia, but then when he is electrocuted (I won't give away exactly how), his alter-ego, Orion, emerges. And Orion is nothing like Artemis. He may have all of his memories, but he is a completely different person: He is dumbed-down, innocent, fanciful, and loves to profess his love for a certain feisty LEPrecon Captain by the name of Holly Short. He drives his former friend Holly and Foaly crazy themselves with his delirious rants, and the fact that he calls them, "my fair maiden" and "goodly beast".
Now, while Artemis and friends are battling inner demons and a rogue space probe of Foaly's own design, a former enemy of Holly's, and her deceased Commander's (Julius Root) is planning a break from prison and a ghastly plan to kidnap yet another friend of young Master Fowl's to use for his own gain. From start to end, Artemis and friends must endure things like giant squids trying to crack Arty like a nut (and him exclaiming loudly, "I'm the nut! I'm the nut!"), explosive gas bubbles from a certain dwarf who now calls himself Tombstone, zombie wrestling fans who are under a bad fairy's mesmer, a dark-magic Rune called a Thrall, random spouts of number poetry from Artemis Fowl himself, and of course psychotic ramblings of an alter-ego named Orion. Really, this book truly made me laugh out loud the whole time, even to the very last page. And Mr. Colfer left the end on a great cliffhanger, so I am hoping and praying that this is not the end of the story for Artemis Fowl II. Honestly, he left it more open than a dwarf's cavernous mouth readying himself to tunnel. And in the end of this small evaluation of the story, I really only have five words left to say about the book: Bloody hilarious and ridiculously awesome.

On a related note, all previous Artemis Fowl books have a Gnommish code encrypted at the bottom of every page, and of course the new book has it too. The code is quite a simple one (it's just a series of symbols used to replace our own alphabet, nothing special), easy to learn and understand, and I happen to be fluent in both reading and writing it. Thus, I shall be translating the message in the book at my leisure, and will be posting it here when I'm done. I might take my time with it, as I have some writing to catch up on, but who knows, I also might just finish it in one day and be posting it tomorrow. Who knows. It depends on if I feel like straining my eyes to see it and writing it down at the same time. And yeah, I know this makes me sound like a total super-nerd, but at his point in life, I don't really care. I love the Artemis Fowl series, and if that makes me a nerd, fine. Bring on the pocket protectors.

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE! COUNT TO FIVE, STAY ALIVE!!!

-Miss Eccentric.
P.S. I was totally kidding about the pocket protectors. I'm not that much of a nerd.

Arty countdown: ...I'm wait-ting...!

2010-08-02T16:37:00.000-07:00

Alright, so if you happen to keep up with my Facebook page, or if you know me even a little, you will already know that the next book in my favorite series ever is being released in mere hours. In case you don't know, MY FAVORITE BOOK SERIES EVER HAS A SEVENTH BOOK COMING OUT IN MERE HOURS AND IT'S CALLED ARTEMIS FOWL: THE ATLANTIS COMPLEX AND OMG IT'S OF COURSE WRITTEN BY MY FAVORITEST AUTHOR EOIN COLFER AND IT'S GOING TO BE EPICALLY AWESOME AND I'VE BEEN WAITING ALL YEAR FOR THIS EVER SINCE I HEARD ABOUT THE RELEASE DATE AND I EVEN HAVE A TAB UP ON MY BROWSER THAT IS A COUNTDOWN TO THE RELEASE DATE AND IT'S BEEN UP FOR AT LEAST NINETY DAYS OR MORE AND NOW IT ONLY SAYS 4 HOURS AND SOME-ODD MINUTES AND HOLY CRAP I BETTER STOP BECAUSE I'M SO EXCITED I MIGHT HAVE A STROKE OR SOMETHING CRAPPY LIKE THAT OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Anyway, I've added this later the same day, and right now the book is officially released and I can hardly wait 'cause it's going to most likely show up in the mail today or tomorrow aaaahhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
...I'm contently happy...Even if that sounded a bit redundant...
Blog ya later (when I've finished reading Arty!!!), Miss Eccentric.

Happy Bloggiversary to Moi!

2010-07-22T20:57:00.000-07:00

It has officially been a year since I have created this very blog, and posted for the very first time. I see this as a major milestone for me, and I thought it would be nice to go back and revisit my first month of blogging, the very beginning of a blogging era for me.
My journey with the written word over the past year has taken me far, starting out with a Blog about Vlogs, and going on to everything from mascara that vibrates, to venting out frustrations, my Nana not respecting my privacy, electronics hating me (and yes that's so true), people being illiterate and not writing letters anymore, news casters acting just like each other, idiotic people who think sanding my skin will help get rid of unwanted hair, to the makers of Harry Potter killing Fleur, and finally haunted records finding a dead mom's son. And all this in my first month of being a blogger-extraordinaire. I have learned so much in this past year, and I feel blessed to know that my writing skills have grown since I started this blog. Since I graduated high school and got my very own laptop, and got talked into making a blog account by my big brother. And not only have I learned how to write better, to express my feelings through words alone and live my greatest dream, but I have also gained responsibility, and confidence enough to not only share my thoughts but to also create another blog to share my heart, my soul, my stories. Which to me seemed an impossible feat before this blog.
I have grown. I am no longer just a young girl who likes to read and write, I am now a young woman who loves and appreciates everything about the written word and aspires to become a published author. I am not afraid. I have acknowledged some of my greatest fears and insecurities (the ones that prevented me from sharing my work for fear that I would be criticized), and I have overcome them. I am a bigger person. And, I am no longer electronically impaired. Well, okay, I'll admit that I'm still electronically impaired for the most part, but I've branched out and learned everything about blogs, and have even become a Facebooker. Whereas before I couldn't even type without hunting-and-pecking.
And now, after a years worth of blogging, I continue on, venting my thoughts and learning more and more as I go. And hey, maybe some day (sooner rather than later, I hope) I'll come to this blog and post about my first published book. So until then, I wish a very Happy Blogging to all (if any) of the people who have followed me from the beginning! I hope to never cease the paranoid rant that is this blog.

Au revoir!

-Miss Eccentric.
P.S. I wanted to make this Bloggiversary tribute a lot longer, but I said everything I needed to, and I didn't want to rant on and on boringly.

Mushy-deep-thoughty-thought-train-of-thoughts...

2010-07-15T23:32:00.000-07:00

I don't know what got us on this subject, but today my parents and I were out in the back yard, in our bathing suits just chilling after a hot day, and we all got to thinking. Now, when we think like we were today, things can get a bit confusing and deep. You see, we were thinking and discussing what happens after you die. You know, one of the big questions in life and beyond. And this particular question has been asked so many times over the years that of course this train of thought is not very original, and we've even talked about this a few times in the past, but sometimes things like this just get stuck in our minds and we need to air it out. So anyway, one of the big questions we discussed was what happens to your husband/wife when they die? When we (and by "we" I mean humans in general since I've obviously never been married myself) take our vows to get married, we say "till death do we part". Does that mean that when you die, and you happen to make it to heaven, God gives you someone else to love while you're "up there"? Or if your spouse dies first, and you get remarried down on earth, what happens when you and that new spouse die and go to heaven? Do you get to stay with your old spouse, or the new one? Or since you're all dead, does that mean you're single, because death did you part? Do you have to choose between spouses? Because that would be insanely hard. But the Bible says that there will be no reason to be sad or upset, so obviously you won't have to go through heartache trying to decide. Which brings us back to: Do you get the first person you married, or the last person you married? Which love, if any, do you spend eternity with?
These are some very good questions, I think, and there are most likely a lot of answers for these questions, depending on your beliefs. I personally think that there are many great loves out there for each of us, but there is only one "soul mate" per person. Only one person that you are meant to spend eternity with. And if you don't meet that person on earth, you get to spend that eternity with that person when you die. And yeah, I know this is getting a bit on the mushy-deep-thoughty-thought-train-of-thoughts side of things, but hey. I can't help but sound a bit deep sometimes. I have a serious side, ya know. But, of course, my silly paranoid-rant side tends to come out more, which I have proven by writing "mushy-deep-thoughty-thought-train-of-thoughts" as a sentence. But whatever.
Anyway, I guess what I'm trying to say is that there are so many things out there that I would love the answer to, but I guess I'll have to wait till I get old (hopefully) and die to get those answers. And maybe I'm okay with that. Maybe a little mystery in our lives adds excitement, because if you think about it, if we knew everything now, there would be no room for error. No room for excitement, or learning, or anything else that makes us human. We would no longer have a child-like fascination with anything, because we would know exactly how and why things do the things they do. If that even makes any sense. It does in my head, at least.

Just something to attempt to try to wrap your head around (and yes, that was a bit redundant)! Keeps us intelligent when we use our brains to actually think about things, ya know.
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.

Stuck in my own thoughtful thoughts...

2010-07-03T18:28:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I was just ranting my thoughts on my Facebook page a moment ago, and for some reason, I caught myself ranting on and on about being thoughtful. But as I explained in a very crazy-woman-rant kind of way on my Facebook, not the kind of thoughtful that means I care about something, or I did something nice for someone, but more like the evil-genius-thinking-up-a-diabolical-plan-to-rule-the-world, kind of thoughtful. Well anyway, I was saying on my Status that earlier today, when I was standing next to my mum, I felt shorter than usual. Which is strange, given the fact that there is no way I could have shrunk over night. Which got me thinking how strange the human brain can be...I mean, one moment you feel normal, and the next, you perceive yourself as shorter, or taller, or whatever else. Yet you know that there is no way you changed so dramatically in one night, so why would you feel as if you had? My theory is that our brains play these tricks on us as a way of telling us, "oh, I know you haven't noticed because you live with me every day, but I've been changing through the years!" And then one day you wake up and you realize that your brain is right, that you have changed and simply haven't noticed because you see and feel yourself all day every day. Like, if you meet up with an old friend, and they say something along the lines of, "wow, you've changed so much!", and you can't figure out why they would think that, because you feel the same as you always did. When in reality, you've been changing and growing gradually through the years nonstop. Yet, even though I know all this, I can't help but asking myself: Has the process of shrinking as you get older already begun when technically, I should have more growing to do? I mean, what else would explain the feeling that I'm shorter than usual? Perhaps my mum just so happened to be standing straighter than usual, or perhaps I had a bad night's sleep and was slouching a bit more than usual, although both are unlikely because first, I stood real straight to make sure it wasn't that, and second, my mum always stands normally. Neither of us have ever really been slouchers. So what is it then? Whatever it is, it's quite strange indeed...

Moving on...Don't mind me, when I'm in thoughtful moods like this I tend to analyze and question everything. It's as if I get stuck in my own thoughts, and they can't help but think of strange things like feeling shorter when I know I'm not and then ranting on and on about it when I know I sound like a madwoman from a crazy-bin but really if you think about it I can't help but rant like this because I am a bit crazy at times and it's just in my nature to lock myself in my own strange thoughts sometimes and really confuse the people around me because I sit there staring off into space for a while and then all the sudden come out and say something completely random like "I feel kind of shorter today than I did yesterday" and then go on and compare my thoughtfulness to the inner workings of an evil genius who is thinking up a diabolical plan to rule the world and then clarify that my thoughtfulness is indeed not in the slightest like caring about something or doing something nice for someone when they didn't ask but instead more like the inner workings of an evil genius who is thinking up a diabolical plan to rule the world and then repeating myself just to get the point across or maybe just because I can and I somehow think it's amusing to act crazy and rant on and on about nothing in particular except for my own crazy thoughts in which I think thoughtful things that are not thoughtful but evil thoughts of taking over the world and oops I've already said that a whole lot but hey at least I said it slightly differently than last time and ooh look at the time I've been sitting here ranting for too long I should stop this before I sound too crazy and annoying but I don't know how to stop this oh my God I can't stop this is getting ridiculous but boy am I typing fast right now this reminds me of the episode of House when Dr. House thought that Wilson was taking antidepressants and he wanted to prove it so he slipped some speed in his coffee and then Wilson was so hyper he couldn't even put his gloves on to examine a patient and then when he confronted House he asked him for one of his Vicodin 's because he thought his heart was going to explode otherwise and oh great here I am still ranting I'm not even using periods or comma's holy crap I can't stop this is not good someone stop me hey this reminds me of a blog I did a while ago where I was ranting sort of like this and I got going like this and I couldn't stop like this and wow I'm saying like this a lot and anyway I said I wouldn't ever be able to stop unless I went cold turkey so maybe I should just-

(Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric)

Argh...This is really pissing me off right now.

2010-06-28T17:17:00.000-07:00

Alright, so I'm sure you've all had this conversation at least once, and now it's my turn. The subject? Gay marriage. Now, I have nothing against gays, nothing whatsoever. My family and I have known many people who were gay, and all of them were very nice people. In fact, they weren't any different from you or I. The only difference is their sexual preference, which has nothing to do with me in my opinion. And yeah, it says that being gay is a sin in the Bible, but it also says that Jesus died for our sins, so anyone who asks for forgiveness will be forgiven. So why would the church or anyone for that matter have a problem with gays? It's none of our business what they do behind closed doors, and it's also none of our business to judge anyone, because it also says in the Bible to leave judgment to God. So what's the problem? Some say that by allowing gay marriage to become legal, we are allowing our government to dictate what is right and wrong. But I say too late, they've been doing that for years. Longer than that, even. What about when marrying outside your race was illegal? Now they allow people of all colors to marry whoever the hell they want, and I think that's the right thing to do. We have freewill, and if our government took that away, that would be an act against God. Gays and lesbians are people too, and it's not our place to say whether or not they can love each other, and seal that love with a marriage. I mean, they're not hurting us, are they? No. Murderers are hurting us, and we should keep them all locked-up, but gays aren't doing anything to hurt anyone, so why continue to allow their love to be illegal?
Now, I'm not saying that I'm gay and that I agree with what they're doing. But my main point here is that we shouldn't have any say on whether or not it's right, and condemn them to hell without even taking into account whether they believe in God and ask for forgiveness. I mean, my brother spends a lot of time online, and he comes across gays who are Christian all the time. They know what the Bible says, but they believe that God will forgive them for their sins and allow them into heaven. And I agree with them. And it doesn't mean I'm necessarily on the gay's "side", it just means I'm on the side of humanity. I'm all-for the rights of a human to love another human.

Okay, so now that I've got my word out, please do not bite my head off and spit it back out with your own opinions attached. What I've said is only one person's opinion on a very controversial subject, and it doesn't matter what I've said anyway because my one vote won't count anyway. And if you happen to be gay, please do not take any offense to what I may have said that can be construed as "hateful" or "judgmental". I meant it only to express my feelings, and if you don't agree with what I've said, then just ignore me.
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.

You just got brain ninja'd!

2010-06-11T12:20:00.000-07:00

Okay, so my brother did the funniest thing last night, and I just had to share this.
So I just happened to walk by his computer, and noticed that he was watching Family Guy on it. I paused and looked, and then proceeded to tease him a bit. I don't know why we tease him when he watches Family Guy, but that's just how it is, and we don't question it. Anyway, I said something like, "you're watching Family Guy?" in a teasing tone, though we both knew it wasn't a question, instead more of a statement. And of course, he tries to hide a smile, and then denies it completely. This is not a surprise, 'cause he tries to deny things that we all know he can't deny all the time. Just like my mum taught us when we were little, if he got chocolate all over his face from eating it, he would just come out and say, "I didn't have any chocolate", when we all knew he was lying.
Anyway, after his denial, I continued to tease, "then what's that?" I asked, pointing at the screen where he had paused the video. He said it was an image, not a video. And, "oh, is that a Family Guy image? I wouldn't know, I never watched it before." He barely holds back his laughter then, and I burst out without even trying to hold it, and ask, "then how come I heard the Family Guy theme song through your earphones?" He starts giggling like we were little again, and I know I've got him there. I mean, there was no way he could deny that. But true to his nature, he tries anyway. "That's called 'brain image-sound matrixing'. It's when your brain sees an image it recognizes, and it makes you hear a sound to go with the image." He said, nodding his head knowingly and then bursting out into laughter. I of course laughed my fool butt off too, but that goes without saying. I mean, really. Wouldn't you laugh if someone said something so ridiculous to you and pretended it was real? And this isn't the first (or last, I hope) time that he's made something up like this just to tease me. In fact, now that I think of it, he probably got that from our dad, who makes crap up to tease us all the time. Like the other day, my bro made us all breakfast, and took it to us and everything, and then brought us all drinks. We found this unusual, to say the least. I mean, he's nice and he helps us with meals sometimes, but it's a true rarity to have him make us all a meal by himself. So naturally, we all thought that perhaps he wanted something. And we couldn't figure out what he wanted, and that's what scared us. And everything new he brought us, our worries intensified and then we started thinking that whatever it was must cost a fortune or something. So when he comes in and sits down with his own food, we all find ourselves staring at him, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He starts laughing and says, "what?" And we ask him what does he want. He denies wanting anything, just saying that he wanted to be nice and give us breakfast. That's when my dad chimes in and says that my bro was only being nice to confuse us, and that we just got brain ninja'd. And this is my point exactly: My dad and bro come up with the weirdest crap at the most random of moments. But of course, I shouldn't be talkin', 'cause I do the same darned thing, all the time. I can't even count how many strange accents I throw into conversations at random moments, or how many times I brain ninja my family, or come up with a dorky knew character, or run around the room screaming something completely random and acting like a total crazy person in one day. Hell, my bro was nice enough to serve me a piece of chocolate cream pie the other night (made using Jello chocolate pudding), and then he brought me a glass of milk with a straw, and again I turned that into a joke. Now, to give a little background, I have this ongoing joke where I tease that some day I'll be in an insane asylum, and that I'll be happy there as long as I have my padded walls and chocolate pudding. So naturally, when he brings me pudding pie and milk with a straw, I insert my crazy girl voice and say, "yay, I'm all ready to go! I got my pudding, and my milk with a straw, so I can drink it even if I'm wearing my straight jacket!"
Yeah...Okay so maybe some day I will be in a crazy joint, and then y'all will be reading a blog written by a crazy girl livin' in a crazy joint...And now I'm rambling about being a crazy girl in a crazy joint posting a crazy blog while still in the crazy joint where I and everyone around me are all crazy!
*acain*
At least I'll have my pudding.
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.
P.S. In case you don't know what the heck "acain" means, it's the Gaelic (Scottish) equivalent of a sigh of annoyance. Random, yes. But funny, so it was worth it.

Stop those bastards from killing our whales!!!

2010-06-10T14:07:00.000-07:00

Did you know that very soon the International Whaling Commission will be having their annual meeting, and are going to try and overturn the ban on commercial whaling? Yeah, they're trying to make a deal to allow Japan, Norway and Iceland to legally kill whales again. Does this not surprise anyone else besides me? Does this not horrify you? And to top it all off, the US Commerce Department representatives of the Obama Administration are backing this, and trying to make a deal with the whalers. This is ridiculously absurd in my eyes. I can't believe that our own government is even thinking of making such a deal with anyone. Do they not realize that the very existence of whales and dolphins is endangered even now, when it's supposedly "illegal" to kill them? And what about the proof that we have from that show Whale Wars that clearly shows the illegal killing of whales on video, yet we still do nothing about it? I mean, don't they ever think that maybe we want the next few generations (my future children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren) to know what a real whale looks like in the wild? Because at the rate we're going, they will never get to know what it's like to have a pod (or whatever they're called) of dolphins swim next to their boats, or witness a great big whale splash it's fin in the water so close that their boat rocks. I have not yet had that pleasure, but I pray that one day I will still have the chance to, and my fears are that that won't happen. That I will never see a whale in person unless it's in an aquarium. And that sickens me. So I have decided to leave a link here to a petition that you may sign on Facebook, if you happen to agree with me. Don't let them win. Don't let them slay those proud beasts of the sea.

Alright, all dramatic cause speech aside, I think I've got my point across here. So click here to sign the petition. But act quickly, because the petition closes June 22nd.
Blog ya later, Miss Number 6,460 On The Petition.

Random cats of grossness

2010-05-22T13:46:00.000-07:00

Let's talk about gross things today. Now doesn't that sound fun?
Anyway, I'd like to start by saying: The other day, I realized how truly gross my cat is. I mean, when he showed up last October, he was dirty. He had grease from sitting underneath cars, he was always covered in dirt, and he would eat anything you gave him. But once he started getting used to eating regularly at our house, and we fixed him, he starting really cleaning. Post-fixing he became a very clean boy, with a shiny black coat and a routine-clean after every meal. He rarely leaves our back yard, and likes to think of himself as a house-cat, always taking naps on my bed. I thought he was a clean boy, with clean morals. I was wrong.
My first hint that he was truly quite nasty, was a few weeks ago when my mum dropped a piece of cheese on the ground for him to eat, and he left it there for a few days before actually eating it. I was like, "eww, he'll only eat three day old cheese, that's been left outside in the sun?" but I chocked it up to it being a normal cat-thing to do. Two weeks later, he's still licking at the cheese on the ground. Gross yes, but abnormally nasty? Hardly.
The day before yesterday I believe was the day he crossed the line from moderately gross to "eewww!!! Joseph, you are nasty!!!" (I call him Joseph when he's being a stinker, or when he's particularly gross)
It all started with a smashed snail. I had accidentally squished a snail with my chair earlier that day, and the guts were all gooey and stuff. Well, Joey sat in it. It was really not very sanitary, and it was all matted in the fur on his back and stuff, and I was totally grossed out. That wasn't so bad, but boy did it get worse. We let our other cat (we have three altogether, Daisy and Bosco being inside cats, and Joey being an outside cat) Daisy out, and she got all-up-in the grass. She loves to eat it, 'cause it helps with fur balls. So anyway, Joey is quite obsessed with her little tushy for some reason. Probably because she doesn't really clean it, being as fat as she is. Gross yes, but we've known she was gross for years. Well, Joey's obsession with following her around and sniffing her butt escalated, and he tried to lick it for her several times. And of course she would get pissed off and whip around and smack him. He didn't really back down, though. He just kept following her around, sniffing even the ground where her butt has sat. This was gross, and we all laughed about it. And then we got the idea that maybe it would be a good thing if Joey were to help her clean it, so we held her down and let him clean a little. And I know what you're going to say, "it's your own fault that he was being gross, you let him lick her butt!" but I swear we didn't think anything of it. Daisy was growling and carrying on, so we went ahead and let her down. Then we proceeded to watch as Joey stood above her, biting the back of her neck and trying to "mount" her, if you know what I mean. Now, all three of our cats are all spayed and neutered, so there is no reason for any of them to try and have babies, to put it politely. But he was totally trying to get comfortable on her, and she was letting him. We didn't want to watch that, so we pushed him off and let her run away to the grass again, where she proceeded to mow for us and he merely followed her to sniff where her butt had been again. Next thing we know, she coughing up a fur ball and he's trying to go smell it. We all get even more grossed out and wash the kitty-puke with the hose, so he can't get all-up-in-that and lick it or something. After a while we let Daisy in the house again, yet the grossness continues when Joey decides it would be wee-fun to scoot his butt in the grass like a dog. Now we're all thinking, "first he eats nasty old cheese, then he sits in snail guts and leaves it, then he licks our girl cat's butt, then he tries to mount her, and now he's scooting his butt across the yard? Eeeewwwwwww!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
And he just puked in our kitchen yesterday, to top it all off. And it was like a projectile, landing in a nasty heap at least five inches away from where his face was. And now, we all look at him a bit differently...But I still love him, grossness and all.

Okay, so I just got bored and decided to talk about something completely random and unimportant. So sue me, I had fun.
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.
P.S. Did I just happen to mention that Joey, after licking Daisy's butt, then licked my leg? No? Well, let's just say that I scrubbed the crappa out of my leg later that day in the shower.
Also, the picture of Joey at the top of this post is of him in a doggy-rain-coat. We saw it at the pet store and we couldn't resist the idea of him in the yellow rain coat with reflectors on the back. And it was worth it, 'cause although he played dead and wouldn't move, he was the most adorable little thing on the entire earth. And don't argue with me on this note, 'cause I will fight you to the death, and I guarantee I will not be the one dead in the end.

The English language: Say what?!?

2010-05-16T00:36:00.000-07:00

They say that if English is not your first language, then it is the hardest language to learn out of any other language. That's because we have so many different meanings for the same word, and so many different words that mean the same thing. It's quite confusing, really, especially if you happen to be a foreigner just learning our language. Take the word "there", for instance. It can mean so many different things depending on the way you spell it: There, they're, their (there once was a girl who wrote a blog, she said, "they're trying to use their strange language to take over the world!"). And the funniest part about that word in particular, is that most of us who actually speak English as our first language don't even know how to use the correct spelling in the correct context. "Huh?", you say? Well that's not the only stupid thing we who speak English do. What about the word "lead"? Do you know that that word can be used and pronounced in two completely different ways, yet spelled the same?
Example: "My dad's mom has a lead foot" or "I like to lead people to strange conclusions".
See what I mean? Or how about words that if you add punctuation in the right spot it completely changes the word? For instance, you can change "its" (meaning "my cat likes turkey, it is its favorite food), by adding an apostrophe in between the T and S, making it "it's" (meaning "it's time for me to stop giving English lessons and get to the point already"), therefore giving it a whole other meaning than "its".
Or "ill" (as in "I am ill"), which can be changed with an apostrophe to "I'll" (meaning "I'll go to the doctor").

Are you keeping up with me, or are you falling asleep yet? Let's move on...

Also, we American's who speak English seem to have forgotten how to spell things as we used to, before we became "American's". I mean, have you not noticed that in Brittan and elsewhere (there's another one: Where, wear, ware) in Europe, they spell certain words differently than we do? Like "color". They spell it "colour" instead. Or "favorite", spelled "favourite" in Europe. Did we not get the memo on how to spell correctly? Because I do believe we American's are the only ones who spell words like that the way we do. I could be wrong, there could be people outside of the United States who spell color the way we do, but most people from Europe that I've ever seen do indeed spell it colour. Or how about how we greet each other?

Anonymous person: "Hey, what's up?"

Me: "Uh...The ceiling above my bed, currently."

Do you understand my point, here? My point being: Why do we say things like, "what's up?", when we clearly mean something other than the literal sense (sense, since, cents, all pronounced the same) of what is directly above us? It does not make any rational sense to me.
So, besides our language being the hardest to learn, I also find it to be the strangest of them all. Especially in the past few years that I have been writing, which has given me plenty of examples of how strange our language really is. Because although we all speak it on a daily basis, the strangeness of it can be hidden until we have to write it all the time. Then we notice, "hey, 'there', 'their', and 'they're' are all spelled differently, yet sound the same when spoken!". And it truly is amazing how many words we use in our daily lives that turn out, aren't even words at all (in the technical sense)!
But, I suppose there is nothing we can do but embrace our strangeness (funny, you can add a "ness" to just about anything and it's still a word) the best we can, by continuing to confuse innocent foreigners just by saying three simple words: Hey, what's up?

Just something to think about, everyone.
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.
P.S. Long time no blog, eh? Here's hoping you'll get to see more of me after this here blog. We'll see though, 'cause I don't have all the free time I used to.

The Nothing conspiracy: Shall we continue to watch owls in a box, dancing dinosaurs and Shark Boys?

2010-04-26T15:07:00.000-07:00

Not too long ago (when she was here), my Aunt (AKA BBB) left a link to Ustream on my Mum's Facebook. Well, when we clicked on it, it sent us to a live feed of an owl box, one with a mom (Molly), a dad (McGee), and four babies (Max, Pattison, Austin and Wesley). At the time, the babies were only wee little fellows, and they just sat around and bobbed their heads at the camera. Which for some reason was very endearing, and we just couldn't stop watching it. I mean, really. All we did was sit there by the computer together, and watch the owls sit there and do nothing. And it was during the day, so they really were just sitting there doing nothing (we even sat for at least five minutes waiting for one of them to cough up a seed). Now, I don't know about you, but don't ya think that would just be a big, boring waste of valuable time? You would think, wouldn't you? Well no, apparently people all over the world also like to sit around and watch owls do nothing as well. In fact, I have Ustream up in a tab now, and they are once again sitting around doing nothing but bob their cute little heads at the camera, and all the regulars are still watching. Granted, they're starting to get their feathers, and they're actually looking like owls now, and that's pretty neat to see, but really. It shouldn't be so damn interesting. It's like they're brain washing us, or something. You know, now that I think about it, it's kind of like those shows, or commercials, etc. that you really don't want to watch because it's really boring and really stupid, but you continue to sit there and watch it anyway. It melts your brain in a way that renders you immobile, and you just sit there staring at the TV and/or computer screen with a blank or disgusted look on your face. And there's nothing you can do about it, either! Even if someone comes in the room saying something like, "why are you watching that crap?", you still sit there and continue to watch. And do you know why you still sit there watching the brain melting program? Because the person who came to rescue you with the witty comment gets sucked in as well, rendering them useless in the "rescuing" department. In fact, a while back my mum and I got sucked into one of the Nothing shows (that's what I'll call them, 'cause they melt your brain until the only thoughts left are Nothing). My mum was flipping through the channels, and she happened to stop on the Hannah Montana show, and for some reason, we just could not stop watching it, no matter how much our brain tried to tell us that we really didn't like it. And one time, we sat for two hours or however long watching the movie Shark Boy and Lava Girl, which was even more stupid than Hannah Montana.
(Funny thing is, that was before the Twilight phenomenon, when the guy who plays Jacob was still dorky Shark Boy. And now girls everywhere think he's hot. Funny, huh?)
Ooh, or how about those commercials for Baskin-Robins? You know, the ones with all the ice cream cakes and the little dinosaurs and the super annoying jingle that just goes, "ice cream and cake, ice cream and cake, ICE CREAM AND CAKE, ICE CREAM AND CAKE, ICE CREAM AND CAKE!!!!!!!!!!" the whole bloody time (or something along those lines, I don't remember exactly how it goes, I just know it says ice cream and cake over and over)?? Yeah, that's a Nothing commercial, and it shares-the-joy at the same time. It's a two-fer. But not a win-win, that's for bloody-well sure.
It's almost like these people are all trying to brain wash us so we are oblivious to the happenings around us. So we don't stand and rise against them when they try to TAKE OVER THE WORLD!!!
(Come on, you had to know that one was coming.)
So anyway, do you have a Nothing show and/or commercial that sucks you in? Just curious. You know, 'cause I want to start cataloging which shows and commercials (or even songs and movies, for that matter) are Nothings, that way when they all try to take over the world, I'll have a list of Nothings that I know not to watch.
Or, I'm just being paranoid and in reality I just want to know so I either don't get stuck in it myself, or so I can use it against you when you least expect it, and then I can TAKE OVER THE WORLD!!!
Just kidding. ...Sort of...
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.
P.S. I really do like to sit here and ramble on and on about Nothing. I should do it more often again.

Doctor Who. No, really, doctor who? What the heck is your name, damn it!!! No one's name is actually The Doctor, and you know it. So what is it!

2010-04-19T16:17:00.000-07:00

Okay, so this is a bit belated (in two different instances), but the new Doctor Who season premiered this last Saturday, and I wanted to talk about it a bit.

Now, I'm not sure if I have blogged about this yet, but you should know (even if this is a refresher and nothing more), that when I heard about David Tennant (the last actor to play as The Doctor) leaving Doctor Who, I nearly had a serious tizzy-fit. It was bad. I mean, they say that everybody's first Doctor is always their favorite, and they're not kidding. The very first time I watched Doctor Who, it was the Titanic episode in God-only-knows-what-season, with David as the Doctor. I fell in love with the series then and there, and went back and watched every episode from the beginning, when Christopher Eccleston was The Doctor still. He only stayed on for the first season, and then came David Tennant again, and he remained my favorite despite all the time I watched Christopher. So when David regenerated into the new Doctor (Matt Smith), I was sure that Doctor Who would never ever be the same for me again, no matter what the next season was like. But as I watched the new Doctor in the season premier this Saturday, I found myself chewing my own words. I couldn't believe myself, that I liked this new guy almost just as much (emphasis on the almost) as Christopher and David!!! And his new companion, too! Amy Pond is like a strong mix of all the past companions, Rose Tyler, Martha Jones, and Donna Noble, all of which had their own fiery personalities. She's a lot of fun: She's Scottish, she's redheaded (and therefore even more fiery), she tells it how it is, and she doesn't let The Doctor push her around. That's for sure. All-in-all, I really think I'll be enjoying this new season of Doctor Who, despite my favorite Doctor regenerating. Which is a huge shock to me.
I guess what I've learned here, is that if I really like a series, I should trust the creators to keep it just as good throughout, and stop having tizzy-fits when they make a big change that turns out to be okay in the end.
...Or...I can have another tizzy-fit when they change something again. Yep, that works for me.

In other news...A slightly belated Birthday shout-out to BBB!!! Luvs, and Happy Birthday!!!

Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.
P.S. To the TV peoples: Just because I can get used to having a new Doctor, don't go and think I'll forgive you for ending House! Because I will never forgive that, no matter how awesome the finale is!!! So there.

Amazing guitar prodigy

2010-04-16T13:15:00.000-07:00

This kid is amazing. I found him a few years ago by accident, using my brothers computer at the time, and since then had forgotten about him. Until the other night, that is, when my mum showed me a video of some kid playing the guitar. Then I remembered when I found this kid that time, and I had to share this with you all. So check it out: This prodigy will truly amaze you, I guarantee it!

Doesn't this kid amaze you? I don't know, something about a child his size and age playing more beautifully than a grown man just gets me. Gives me goose bumps, that's what it does! I can't help it. I truly do love some good music, no matter who plays it.

So anyway, remembering this kid after, like, three years has me runnin' curious: What's your favorite song, band, singer, or orchestra (etc.)? There are so many different types of music, and so many people in this world who each like a different type than the last person, so it got me all curiosity-killed-the-cat (but satisfaction brought him back!) and stuff. So go ahead and leave a comment, and let me know what kind of music you like! Heck, you can even send me a link to a video of said music that you like!
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.

Bitter-sweet...But sweet indeed

2010-04-12T16:37:00.000-07:00

Long time, no blog, eh? Well, eight days isn't that long, but it's the longest I've ever gone without blogging. My reason for not blogging that long is a good one, though. Wanna hear it? Okay, are ya ready?
We had company over.
Well, okay maybe that's a stupid reason, 'cause I should have been able to blog anyway, but I didn't blog because they (BBB, that is) were here for a week and none of us wanted to just leave them sitting there alone, when they came to visit us in the first place. So we all had a blast together, without any blog-breaks. And yesterday, they left...But despite the bitter, I still managed to keep the day sweet!
My wonderful mum and dad took me to my very first book signing! It was awesome, too. My mum and dad and I went to Barnes and Noble, and bought Christopher Moore's new book (Bite Me: A Love Story), then proceeded to listen to him talk about it. Only he didn't really talk about it, in fact, he said himself, "what is there to talk about? It's a vampire book. That's it."
It was funny, 'cause it wasn't really what one might think of a book signing. It was more of a comedy routine about his life as an author, with some answers about his books thrown in at the end. Once he was done answering all the questions thrown at him by his fans, everyone was instructed into a line to get their books signed by him. The line moved quickly, and before I knew it, my dad and I were standing in front of him as he signed our books for us! We got two books personalized, which basically means that he signed them, and he wrote our names and a saying in them. One was his new book Bite Me, which he made out to my parents, saying "OMFG!" as the personal message in that book, and the second one (Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal) was made out to me, and it said, "blessings!" in it. Which was totally awesome. If I haven't said that enough yet.
But the best part yet? He was totally nice to us and totally funny. I mean, the funny part was not a surprise because his books always make me laugh out loud like a total idiot in public, but I didn't know what to expect in the "nice guy" department. But he was awesome. He even made a comment about my dad wearing the same type of hat as him, and that he liked it (he said that he could totally shop with my dad!). And he was totally jealous of my dad's IPhone cover. He liked that it was blue. He showed us his, and he said he wished he had the blue one instead of the gold one that he had. I personally liked the gold one, 'cause it was all, blingbling. I mean, that thing shined like no-tomorrow. It was like, "HIYA! I'M AN IPHONE, AND I AM SHINY!!!"
My mum even bragged at one point that I was going to be a writer, and he gave me some good advice (not going to tell you, teehee)!!! It, was, awesome! I can only pray that one day, if or when I become a semi-famous author myself, that I come off as cool and funny as he did to me. I can only pray that I can hang out with my fans like he did and not be so embarrassed that I turn as red as I did when talking to Mr. Moore yesterday. And I can only wish that a young, aspiring author will meet me and think that I'm really cool, just as I thought that Christopher Moore was cool.
And the part that's even better than the best part? We got to take some pictures with him! Which was really, really awesome. That's when he saw my dad's IPhone, 'cause one of the girls who worked at the book store took the picture with it. And you know what? It was (dare I say it yet again?) AWESOME!!!
Here's the photo taken by the girl who worked at the book store:
I'm the girl in the black shirt on the left, my dad is the Scottish looking guy in the blue and green striped shirt and the awesome hat on the right, and (obviously) Christopher Moore is the guy with the also-awesome hat and cocked head in the middle.

I can truly hardly wait to go to another book signing, and I don't even care who it is, really. Well, it had better be an author of a book I've read before, at least. Otherwise it wouldn't be very fun, now would it? I'm hoping that one day I'll have the chance to go to a book signing for Eoin Colfer (Christopher Moore: If you are reading, I am not cheating on you, if anything, I was cheating on Mr. Colfer by going to your book signing, since he does write my favoritest series ever, Artemis Fowl, thus making him my favorite author. Sorry).
And one more awesome thing: When Christopher was talking, he was saying how he developed the main character in his new book (a goth girl named Abby Normal), and he said that he went to a bunch of goth blogs to get the inspiration (because surprisingly, he said, a teenage goth girl's way of talking doesn't come naturally to him). He said that about three years or so ago when he was writing the first book, he found the voice of his character easily with the inspiration of these blogs, in which young people talked about their miserable lives in sort of elegant rants the approximate size of my own blogs. And then he said that when writing this third installment, he tried to go back to these blogs to get more inspiration, but they were gone, to be replaced by these short little things that only have two lines of illiterate crap. Which I find disturbing (but awesome that he noticed, and I'm not the only one that did). What is wrong with our young people today (people about my age) that they can't even string enough words together to actually sound like they're educated? It's not right, and if we keep this up, we will indeed become a bunch of illiterate idiots.
Anyway, I'll stop talking about our lack of writing skills these days now, just because if I continue, I'll ruin my awesome rant of happiness in going to my first book signing. Which was awesome.

By the way, did I mention that it was totally AWESOME?!!?!?!?!?! I'm not sure.
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.

P.S. Maybe in the future I should just hold off on blogging about book signings, because I have noticed a pattern of immaturity here that I'm not liking. I mean, how many times have I said "totally" or "awesome" or the two together in this blog? Too many to be properly educated. I swear, I never thought I'd be the type to get star-struck and all flustered and blushy (not a word, I know), but I guess I was wrong...Luckily for me, when my mum and the lady who worked there took the pictures, they happened to take them right before my embarrassingly bright-red Scottish-blood-blushing really got the chance to kick in. Which (again) is totally awesome.

Hoppy Easter!!!

2010-04-04T20:34:00.000-07:00

Just stopping in to wish you all a very happy Easter!!! Today has been very interesting, seeing as not only is this the day that commemorates when Jesus rose from his grave after three days as promised, but there was also a big earthquake here today. Well, it didn't originate from here exactly (it came from Mexicali, right by San Diego), but we did feel it. It was a 7.2. Not bad, eh? My family and I were all kind of dizzy by the time it stopped rolling, but luckily for us, nothing got knocked over or broken. Which is good. And now I'm boring myself, so...

In other news, BBB is coming tomorrow!!! We're all quite excited about that, of course. It's always nice to see them (shout-out! Luvs to Aunt and Uncle in big-damn-bus-of-a-home!). Any-way...I may not be blogging as much for the week that they will be here, 'cause I'll be spending time with them, so...Just warnin' ya.

Alright, that's it. Hoppy Easter again!
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.

You can't spell "families" without "lies"

2010-04-02T21:13:00.000-07:00

Should I even bother with this blog? Because I have to warn you, if I go through with this, things might get ugly...But I think I need to go for it anyway, so prepare yourself...

In the past two weeks or so, both my mum and dad have posted about our crazy families. I no longer can take it, therefore I feel the need to join them in posting my frustrations. I will however also post a link to my mum and dad's own blogs, that way you can read both of their opinions as well as mine:

Anal Seepage (my mum's blog)

Family, You Know It's Bad When...(my dad's blog)

Now, to get started, I think I'd like to explain a little about the two different sides of the family: My mum's side, and my dad's. Let's start with Fadda (my dad)...

Basically my dad was raised by wolves. Him and is older brother both agree on that point. Although his brother doesn't really know quite like my dad does, because he was the favorite out of the two. My dad, on the other hand, was the one who was left home alone at the age of twelve with a twenty dollar bill left on the counter as his parents and brother had the times-of-their-lives on a trip to Canada. And he was expected to live on just that for the several weeks they were gone. And when his parents were home, they tortured him. Especially his mother, who I must say is just about the Queen of all Nags. All the women in his family are like that, too. They drive all the men in the family so crazy they just all start dying-off. And of course the men in the family are not too great themselves, since they're all either drunk, high, or molesting another family member (or all three). My dad's family is so corrupt, so mean-spirited, so ungrateful, so creepy, whiny, and downright disgusting that my dad was actually relieved when his father finally passed away from cancer a while back. Now, that may sound harsh, because that was his father, but you have to put yourself in his shoes. His father was never a father to him, instead always favoring his other son. He was a complete creep and jerk. And yeah, my dad loved him in a very human way because he was his father, but he surly did not like him or love him as a person. And he feels the same about the rest of his family, including the crazy aunts and uncles and cousins and blah, blah, blah. And I truly do not blame him.

Moving on to Mum...

My mum is a whole other story, however. She grew up in a small family, just her, her grandparents, and her mother and stepfather. Her mother left her real father (whom my mum loved dearly, and whom loved her back just as much) when my mum was quite young, so she was stuck with her stepfather instead. My mum's grandparents were the only people in her life at that time who truly loved her and wanted the best for her, but unfortunately, she didn't get to stay with them for quite a large period in her life. Instead she had to live with her crazy mother who was in and out of the hospital all the time getting experimental surgeries, and her drunk and abusive stepfather. She always did her best to get through life unscathed, but unfortunately these people who call themselves her parents loved to play mind games, and beat their daughter for no reasons whatsoever, both physically and mentally. They even tried to convince my mum that she was crazy, taking her to a therapist and giving her meds that she never needed in the first place. They used to give her Valium when she was little just to shut her up when they didn't feel like raising a child. They also left her for dead several times, when she clearly needed to go to the hospital. For instance, my mum hit her head so hard one time that she blacked out, and didn't even remember how she got home. But her parents didn't take her to the doctor. And when her grandmother finally got a hold of her and took her to the doctor herself, they found out that my mum had been hemorrhaging in her brain, and was quite lucky indeed to even be alive. My mum also had to skip countless weeks of school to stay at home with her lovely (sarcasm) mother, who as I said, was in and out of the hospital all the time. My mum was like a slave. She cooked, she cleaned, she gave her own mother shots and medication, and she was expected to do her homework, even though she had to skip so many classes that she had no idea what was going on in school most of the time. Luckily, when she was at school, she was quite popular, so her friends would be kind enough to bring her homework and help her out. And did I mention that she (on top of everything else) also had to go to skating practice at the butt-crack-of-dawn, and cheerleading, and so much more? And to make it all seem even worse, every penny she made from her own jobs was handed directly to her ungrateful bastards of parents, including the money she received at the age of eighteen for getting hit by a two-ton truck when she was twelve. So to put it lightly, my mum's life sucked arse growing up.

You would think that after a lifetime of misery growing up, both my parents would have wonderful, normal lives of their own by now, wouldn't you? Well, you're wrong. Because to this day these lovely (more sarcasm) people continue to pester us all. My dad's mother now lives in Seizure- Excuse me, Leisure World by herself. She has Parkinson's Disease, so she can barely walk, she shakes uncontrollably, and has more recently started to hallucinate things like her dead husband in the middle of the street. And this woman thinks she can still drive, yet she wasn't even a good driver before the Parkinson's. Her doctor has even taken her driver's license away, and we took her car, but guess what? She called us up and insisted on picking up her precious car even after we offered to give up even more of our own lives just to help drive her around once a week. This, to say the least, was the last straw, and we no longer want anything to do with the backstabbing, ungrateful woman.
My mum's parents are both (unfortunately) alive. Her mum's completely bedridden now, addicted to Morphine, and has both cancer and diabetes, yet she refuses to do a thing about it. She was diagnosed with cancer about eight years ago now (give or take), yet she refuses to believe any of the doctors, instead ignoring it. She also threw a fit about being diagnosed with diabetes, and goes untreated today because she insists that she is "cured" of diabetes, which I can attest she is not (according to her blood sugar when we tested it for her). But there's nothing we can do about any of it, because my mum does not have the right to force her to do anything, seeing as her stepfather is still her caregiver, and has control over everything. These people continue to pester my mum, begging for money, food, help around the house, even a shower for her mother. Which is not fair to my mum, because not only do my parents have to take care of a house of eight (that being both my parents, two adult's including my brother and I, a handicapped and elderly woman that is our Nana, and three cats), but now they expect my mum and dad to shell out money in which we need for ourselves! Not to mention the helping-them-with-chores thing. I mean, come on. My mum is already taking care of her grandmother, but her mother expects her to come over and take care of her all the time as well? How is that fair in the slightest? It makes me want to shout at those people, "YOU HYPOCRITES!!! I DON'T SEE YOU TAKING CARE OF YOUR OWN MOTHER, SO HOW DO YOU EXPECT HELP FROM THE PEOPLE WHO ARE CARING FOR HER IN RETURN?!?"

I guess what I'm really trying to get at, is yes, there are some people in our lives to which we love dearly (our Nana, and the lovely -not sarcasm this time- friends who we adopted as our real family), but the rest of our "family" is crazy, and hurtful, and greedy. And no matter how many "second chances" we give these people, they never change: They remain just as crazy, hurtful, and greedy as ever. And what I would just like to know is, "why?" Why do we continue to be walked all over by these people no matter how nice, or even how strict we are to them?
But I suppose everyone has at least one family member like that, a soul-sucking leech of a family member who literally sucks your heart, soul, and sanity just by existing. And there's nothing we could really do to change that. All we can do is wait for the day when their evil deeds catch up with them, and God punishes them accordingly for their crimes upon humanity.

And now I believe this is the perfect time to stop, seeing as my eye is twitching, my neck tensing up, and a headache is coming on. So farewell for now, and good luck with your own crazy families.
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.

Dearest readers of mine,

2010-04-01T15:06:00.000-07:00

As you know, lately I have been busy, and therefore not able to blog quite as much as I would like. I used to blog every three days at most, and now it's been considerably longer in-between posts. I call it my "blog-funk", because I'm so busy with other things in my life that I just don't have the time to create enormously funny blogs like I used to. And this bugs me. I mean, I used to pride myself in crazy paranoid rants that could confuse even Lewis Carroll, but now I'm lucky if I even come up with an idea for a blog, let alone writing it out in a humorous way. Hell, I used to blog about the most random of things, such as vibrating mascara, House, cotton candy being fluffy, and even Chia Obama, but now I can't even manage that. So, in light of these shortcomings of mine, I have decided that maybe I just shouldn't blog at all anymore. I will still try and keep up with my short stories in my other blog, The Power of the Word, but I will be deleting this blog as of tonight, so there will be no more witty writings of Miss Eccentric. I'm sincerely sorry to all my readers, but this has to be done...I will miss you all so very much though, and I hope you will continue to remember me in a kind way, a way in which I am a witty, sarcastic, and paranoid writer, and you are the helpless reader who can not live life without my witticisms, and I hope you tell all your children and grandchildren about the wonderful blogger who changed your life. But please, just promise me one thing? Do not commit suicide just because I have abandoned you so harshly and unexpectedly...Farewell.
-Miss Eccentric.

P.S. April Fools!!! Did I get ya? Probably not, seeing as the drama was starting to get a little out of hand there the more I wrote...Well, just to clarify, everything I said in the above was all just a bunch of drivel. Just part of the joke, you know? So I WILL NOT STOP BLOGGING, AND I CERTAINLY WON'T DELETE THIS BLOG. So, now that we have that settled...See ya in a day or two for another blog!!!

Life can be fun, even when we don't realize it.

2010-03-28T21:12:00.000-07:00

We come across many little things in life that may seem small, but in reality are more enjoyable than many of the bigger things you might run across. Some of these things may even seem boring to some people, but quite the opposite to yourself. Here's a few of the small yet exceptionally enjoyable things that I love about life:

1. Waking up in the morning to my cat purring so hard he practically vibrates off my bed.

2. Finding my favorite flavor of Jelly Belly in a big jar next to all the flavors I don't like.

3. The smell of Vicks VapoRub. I mean really, that's just about the best smell in the world.

4. Breakfast for dinner (I know that's a bit redundant, 'cause I've blogged about that particular pleasure before, but it deserves to be in this list).

5. Dancing without a care to my favorite song.

6. Going out to the beach to get wet, and coming home to get wet again in the shower.

7. Watching my cat spazz when I drag his toy across the grass.

8. Sitting outback (or anywhere for that matter) with family and/or friends telling jokes.

9. Playing fetch with my old dog (before she passed...).

10. Laughing with my Best Bud, for no apparent reason at all. Just because we can, I guess.

11. Huddling in the bathroom heater with my Mum on a cold winter's night.

12. Kitty-lip kisses. I mean really, how cute are their fluffy little lips? So cute you want to bite them but you settle for kissing them instead, that's how cute.

13. Enjoying a nice cup of tea on a cool day.

14. The sound of a can popping when you open it.

15. Taking a nice long, hot shower after a hard day's work.

16. Finishing something. A story, a book, a job, a painting, anything. I just love a job well done.

17. Starting something (see above "somethings"). Nothing like a fresh start to get me excited.

18. Peanut butter. If I were allergic to peanuts, I would die (he he, I made a funny!).

19. Hand writing letters to loved ones using a quill and ink. Nothing else could be so personal for your friend/family member on their birthday and/or holiday.

20. Painting a room and getting it all over myself (which I do. It even gets in my hair, yet strangely enough I love it).

21. Coming home with my mum to find that the boys have fed themselves and Nana, and cleaned up after themselves as well.

22. Painting. I love the tranquility of it, and even the smell of fresh paint relaxes me.

23. Curling up in bed with a good book.

24 Writing. Anything really, it's all about my fingers flying on my keyboard, and my imagination flying high in the sky somewhere.

25. Watching someone laugh, cry or gasp in general amazement at my stories. I think that's just about the only thing better than the actual "writing" part of my stories: Someone enjoying the finished product.

I guess what I'm trying to say here in this blog, is that there are so many little things in life like the things listed above, yet not many people these days seem to really stop to enjoy such things. They take the little things for granted, not even noticing them because they're in such a rush to get through life. When in reality, we should all take a pause in our busy schedules just to enjoy the moment. Because these small little moments in life pass us by too fast, and if we don't enjoy them while they're still happening, they'll just fly by and we'll miss them. So take a moment, and try to think of some of the little things you like, and do one of them. It doesn't have to be a chore to have a little fun. Your little-thing could be something as little as a good cup of coffee in the morning before work, or (like my dad) a nice cigar in the afternoon, or a few minutes of reading before bed, or even just a whiff of your favorite smell.
So stop to smell the roses once in a while, dammit!!! Or I'll get you!!!
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.

Pokemon is addicting!!!

2010-03-25T19:54:00.000-07:00

And I'm not kidding. Now, I realize that I should not be saying so anywhere that the public has access to, but for all the nerds out there who still like Pokemon, I shall type out to the world, I STILL LOVE POKEMON, AND I ALWAYS BUY ALL THE NEW GAMES!!! Embarrassment aside, let's move on to the point of this blog: Pokemon is addicting. The day that the new Pokemon games came out (Soul Silver and Heart Gold) my mum and I went and picked them up. I got Heart Gold version, and my mum got Soul Silver. I have been playing mine whenever I have free time since then, and I can't seem to put the damn thing down. And this isn't even the first time this has happened, either. Through the years, starting with the very first Pokemon games such as Blue version, Yellow, and Red, we have bought each and every new game released, playing it well after beating the Pokemon League (or the Elite Four as they call them), and trading each other Pokemon for our Pokedex's and whatnot. It has gotten so bad that I actually have been neglecting reading, and writing. I mean, I don't play all day, that's for sure, because I have a lot of other things to do (I do have a life, ya know), but whenever I find that there's a lull in my day, and I have nothing better to do at that moment (except read or write, dammit), I run to my DS and start a-playin'. I can't help it, I just have to play that damn game as much as possible. My mum and I have even come up with a code for this addiction of ours. We call it the "Pokebreak" (uses: "Hey Mum, want to go take a Pokebreak?" "I think it's Pokebreak time!" "Leave me alone, I'm taking my Pokebreak!!!"). It's pathetic, I know...But the worst thing about this particular Pokemon game, is that there's a mini game inside the game, that is so damn addicting that I even agreed to get a certain amount of points in it for both my mum and my bro. It's called the Coin Game, and you can find it in the Game Corner in Goldenrod city (yes, I know the exact location without looking at my DS. What of it?). My dad took a look at it and he said that it was basically a Pokemon version of Mines, using Voltorb's as the mines. And I'm good at it, too. I can guess where all the points are, and so far I've even made it to level six, which neither my mum or bro have made it to yet (my mum catches on pretty quickly, so she'll figure it out, but my bro hasn't even gotten past level one, and he hates strategy games like that so he's just making me do it all for him).
I swear Nintendo does this crap to us on purpose. They put a mind control thing in the game so we all get addicted to it and want to buy more and more until they become to most rich company on the earth and use the money to buy atomic weapons and Starbucks shares and take over the woooooooorrrrrld!!!
Okay, so maybe I'm just in another paranoid rant here, but you never know. There could be subliminal messages in the music to the game or something.
...Now that I think of it, those songs really are addicting, and I even find myself whistling them from time to time...Nah, that's just paranoid talk.
...Or is it?
Well, either way, I think I'm done here. I have 2,100 points to gain for my brother.
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.

Golf ball mistresses

2010-03-20T21:34:00.000-07:00

I told myself that I would not blog about Tiger Woods, because really, who cares about famous people? I certainly don't. But this is getting ridiculous, and if I don't blog about it now, I'll probably be the only one to not blog about it. But I don't really follow golf (even though it's a Scottish-made "sport". FYI, I put "sport" in parentheses because I think it was meant to be more of a hobby than a sport), so the only things I know about Tiger Woods is that he's supposedly really good at golf, and he cheated on his wife big time.

Anyway, now to the point of this blog: My big bro found the funniest thing online! A golf ball collection, with Tiger's many alleged mistresses' faces on them! I found this to be hilarious, myself, but apparently one or more of the mistresses is offended by these golf balls, and is making a big deal of it. I don't pretend to know the details, but I guess the mistress in question seems to think that hitting golf balls with mistresses' faces on them may be promoting abuse to women. "Huh?", you say? Well, you're not alone. I too think that this notion is quite ridiculous, and can't believe what a big deal those people are making about a joke item! I mean, come on! During Christmas, you can find little animal toys that poop Jelly Belly's, but do you see a bunch of kids running around pooping Jelly Belly's all over the place? No. So why would people all the sudden think it's okay to beat women just because there happens to be depictions of women on golf balls? I think those people are splitting hairs a bit there. I mean, if a man is going to beat a woman, he's going to beat a woman. And it's not going to be because of golf balls, it's going to be because that man is a total a-

Moving on...

Here's a bit of irony for ya: During Thanksgiving time, when his cheating came into the spotlight, Tiger's wife (Elin something) chased him out of his home with...Guess. Go ahead, guess what she chased him with. I'll wait. In fact, I'll make you squint at the screen to see the answer.

A golf club!!!

Hahahahahaaahhhaaaaaaaaa!!!! Is that not funny? Oh, the irony! This man makes a living playing golf, and his wife chases him down with a golf club!!!
(You thought you had me there, didn't ya?
"Hehe, I'm going to wait till she's done giving the answer, then she'll just talk about it and I won't have to squint and get my glasses to figure it out!"
I think not! I would not give you the pleasure of finding out so easily!!! Of course, you might be able to see that perfectly fine without the usage of glasses, unlike someone currently writing a blog...)

Okay, so that's all I really have to say about that cheating bastard, except for maybe...He's a cheating bastard!!!
(Sorry, but I just have a thing about people who cheat on their spouses. It gets on my nerves big-time)
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.

Tall tales of a big fish...

2010-03-17T23:51:00.000-07:00

You ever notice how when we age, the stories of our lives before "the golden years" become our only conversation starter? Or how those stories become grander and grander every time we tell them? Well, that's how it is with my great-grandmother, at least. She started off with the usual: Telling us how she left home when she was eighteen, how she met my great-grandfather, how they got married and had kids, and even stories of how her own kids used to sneak out of the house in the middle of the night, and so on and so forth. This was okay, especially the first few times she told these stories. After a while it got a little annoying because it was the same story over and over, but we put up with it because at least she was remembering everything how it really was still. But now I think she's caught on to our boredom, or maybe she just gets her Love Inspired romance novels mixed up with her own life, but whatever it is, her stories are getting more and more dramatic, and impossibly, confusingly, even annoying intricate. My dad has touched on this before in his own blog, "Harlequin is rotting her brain!", but since then it has gotten worse. Now not only does she tell us stories of our own lives, using false information and inner monologue that even we have never told her, and talking in the third person when referring to herself ("she said", "then she thought"), but she also makes stories up in the middle of the night. For instance, a regular favorite of hers is calling in the middle of the night (by "calling", I mean ringing the little plug-in doorbell that we gave her to get in touch with us in case of emergency) just to tell us that she heard voices outside her window. Now, this may not sound very strange, because really, what's so weird about hearing someone talking outside your window in the middle of the night? But you have to put yourself in our situation to really understand:
First, we currently have no neighbors next door to us, so there is no way she could be hearing them.
Second, this is in the middle of the night, at anywhere between 2:30 to 6:00 o'clock in the friggin' butt crack of not-even-dawn-yet! Who's outside at that time? I mean, yeah, any time after five is probably people going to work, and sometimes even earlier than that, but who's going to go to our grandmother's window just to talk? And it can't be a robber or anything, because no one around here is stupid enough to break into a house of five, in a culdesac, in the city of Lakewood where if we call the sheriff, they actually show up. Plus this house is infamous for having loaded guns in it (my great-grandfather had a small collection).
And third (and this is the best one), she's deaf. At least she's been saying so since bloody forever. So how could she even hear voices outside her window, anyway? And it gets even better: She sleeps on her "good" ear, so if she really can't hear out of one, and that's the only exposed one, how could she possibly bloody-hell hear ANYTHING?!?

Anyway, now that you understand, let's get back to the people talking outside her window...This particular made-up story comes in several different variations, from two men saying aloud how they plan on climbing through our impossible-to-get-into-from-the-outside attic to steal from us, to a loudspeaker saying something like, "you need to evacuate your homes immediately" or "don't drink the water" and so on and so forth. Hell, just the night before last she said that there was something going on on the corner of two streets that you can't even see from where we live, and she wanted me to peek out the window to see what it was. Say what? Yeah, I would have had to get in the car, and drive over to these streets to see what (if anything) was going on. But she insisted, so I went into my room, pretended to check, and went back and told her that all was quiet, and nothing that I could see was going on. So then when I ask her where she heard that something was going on on (there I go with the double "on" again...) so-and-so street, she pointed to (get this) her clock, saying, "that told me" in a matter-of-fact manner. And yeah, okay, her clock does talk, but only when she presses the button on top, and even then it's a prerecorded "IT'S TWO, FIFTY FIVE, PM" (or whatever time it is when she presses it) in a robotic woman's voice. So I told her that. I told her that that was her clock, and that it told only the time, and that was it. She started to argue, so then I just said "okay" and went back to bed.

You getting the gist of it yet? Just wait, it gets even worse...

Some of her latest middle of the friggin' I-should-be-asleep-right-now night calls are some of the best. Like one night (at least a month ago now, I think) she called us and asked upon our arrival, "What's in my water besides water?"
*cue confused looks on our faces*
We told her that there was nothing in her water besides water, as far as we knew, but she was convinced that her water was poisoned or something, and said that it went "this way, and that way" in her glass. Are you confused? Well, I wish I could explain what she meant by that, but unfortunately, I can't explain something that even I don't understand. I mean, she seriously thought that some boogieman had sneaked his way into her room and poisoned her water. And we even asked her "who do you think would poison you?" after she started saying stuff like, "well, I've got no reason to fear death" and stuff, and she just danced around the subject, until we finally threatened to take her to the hospital to get her stomach pumped, and she quickly said that it was no big deal, that she didn't do anything to deserve to die, and that she would be fine. The next day of course we teased the crud out of her for this (our relationship with her is like that. We all, including her, have the ability to tease each other without anyone getting mad. At least most of the time), by putting green food coloring in her water, and handing it to her. She of course laughed, once she got the reference.
But I think that the one weird middle-of-the-night-call that can beat all others is one that I personally had about two to three weeks ago, though.
It started out the same as usual: Nana rang, I stumbled out of bed and bounced off the walls till I made it into her room, and I asked what was the matter. She starts the weirdness right off by asking if we had any purple cans ("maybe some soda?" she said) in the house. The only thing that was running through my sleep-muddled mind right then was, "why does she want a grape soda in the middle of the night?"
Instead I just said "not that I know of", and then asked why. She replies by saying (and I quote), "Well just don't drink out of the purple can, or you'll die."
At this point I know she has got to be dreaming, and I'm too tired to either tell her that or ask her where on earth she got this vital information, so I just said "okay" and went back to bed. Of course, once I sat in bed for a while, trying to get back to sleep, I got to thinking: Where in the hell did she get such strange information from? That and as soon as I was out of earshot from her I burst into laughter, knowing that I wouldn't be the only one to do so the next morning, when I told the rest of the family what strange thing she came up with that night, and how my story beat all of theirs. In fact, the first thing I said to my mom as a morning greeting, was, "don't drink out of the purple can, or you'll die."
And of course after the initial "huh?" and my explanation of what had happened the night before, she and my dad and bro all laughed just as I had. And when she got up, I surprised her with none-other-than a Pepsi can, with a piece of purple construction paper taped tastefully to it. At first she sort of had this horrified look on her face, like "oh my God! She's trying to kill me!!!", but then she seemed to get that I was teasing her, and she laughed with me.

So where does this strange behavior in our elders come from? Is it just because they get bored and decide to make crap up? Is it because they saw something on TV, or read something in a book, and they're just mixing it up with reality? Or is it perhaps their own strange dreams leeching into not only their subconscious thoughts (the place from which dreams are said to originate from), but also their conscious ones (when they're supposedly awake)? I don't think I'll ever really know, at least in my lifetime. Maybe sometime in the next fifty years or more we'll come up with a device that can literally read our conscious and subconscious thoughts like an open book. Hell, now that I think about it, it'll probably be sooner than that, because they do have a machine that can create images of our thoughts, like a blurry, poor quality movie (at least according to House). And once we can read other's thoughts, we'll finally know why we'll die if we drink out of the purple can...
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.

Happy Birthday, Mummy!

2010-03-15T00:48:00.000-07:00

Happy Birthday my awesomely sweet, loving, funny and brilliant Mum!!!

I hope your day was wonderful, and here's to another (not going to actually say it on my blog, jeez I know better by now) however-old-you-are more years of fun!!!

Love ya, your baby girl Pumpkin AKA Miss Eccentric (and don't forget Joey too!!!).

Facebook Creep: Help me take him down!!!

2010-03-12T20:04:00.000-08:00

Today I had some guy on Facebook try to set up a "meeting" with me. Are your ears ringing? Yeah, that would be the alarms in you head saying, "creep alert, creep alert! This guy is out to get you!!!"
Here's what happened: I was minding my own business online, trying to find some more blogs for my new Facebook group (MESGOB), and a Facebook chat thing pops up and it's this guy. He asked to be my friend a few days ago, and I -thinking nothing of it- accepted.
Anyway, this guy named Heart Hacker (I thought it was a joke name, not a creepy-Facebooker name! Don't judge me!) struck a conversation up with me, and it quickly went from "good morning" (according to his Facebook he lives in India, so although it's late evening here, it's morning there), to "If I came to California, would you meet with me?". That's when the siren in my head started wailing, and I knew this guy was a major creep. I mean, who asks to meet complete strangers after a simple "hey" on Facebook? Anyway, I immediately told this guy that "I don't meet with strangers", and then promptly closed the chat, making my way to his Facebook, canceling our "friendship" and blocking him at once. And all I can think is, "who does this creep think he is?"
I really wish I was close and personal friends with a police officer, because if I told them about this, I guarantee they would report this incident and possibly get this jerk in serious trouble. Although I'm not sure how the police would handle a situation like this if that guy is really all the way in India, since I'm pretty damn sure we don't have jurisdiction to arrest him. But I would like to at least scare the crap out of this guy, because if he doesn't get caught or at least scared, he'll just do it again to a more innocent, naive girl who will fall for his "friendliness".
So anyway, since I blocked this guy and am not friends with him, I don't have a way to post on his Facebook how creepy he is, so I was wondering...If what I've said is pissing you off as well, and you really hate it that people like him have access to the internet like they do, you can visit this jerks Facebook and leave a comment there, saying something along the lines of, "creep!" or "don't befriend him, he's a creepy jerk!". Or maybe you should just make up you own comment, since my suggestions are all me getting angry and not witty...Either way, here's a link, and let's all ban together to boycott this jerk! Just don't make friends with him, he might try to meet you in person and murder and/or rape you. Because what other reason could a complete stranger have for trying to meet up with a strange young woman? Jerk.
And hey Heart Hacker! If you're reading this, I have a message for you: You saw my Facebook picture? That's me demonstrating that I can KICK YOUR ARSE IF YOU TRY SOMETHING!!! Go ahead and try, I have a lovely Dad, Mum, Big Bro, Aunt, Uncle, Best Bud, and Best Bud's Mom who will kick you wherever I ask them to, including your downstairs!!! And don't think we won't hold you down and beat on you. Because we will, and we will also get away with it. Self defense is quite amazing in that respect.
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.

Miss Eccentric's Support Group for Other Blogs (MESGOB)

2010-03-11T23:25:00.000-08:00

Okay, so the title to this blog sounds ridiculous, but in reality the subject is indeed very serious. Just recently I checked in on a blog that I follow (and periodically check in on, obviously), and what I read truly touched me, in a tear-jerking kind of way. The woman who wrote the blog that made me cry goes by Bradshaw, and she posted on the ninth of this month that her friend at work committed suicide. I think you might have to read it to get why this touched my soul so much, so I'm going to put a link here.
Please humor me by reading this woman's post. If you do, you will see that at the end of her post she pleads to anyone in pain, anyone who doesn't know what to do other than take their own lives. She asks them to please contact someone, anyone, and talk it out. And I agree with her wholeheartedly. The fact that some other human beings who share this earth with us believe that there is no other choice other than ending their lives saddens me, and sickens me. What did these people do to deserve to feel this way? Even if they were an unlikeable person, no one should have to feel like they don't deserve to live, no matter what their life was like. Because everyone deserves to live their lives as best they can, and I think that if more people were to try and talk to people like that, people in pain, maybe they would realize that and decide that their life is worth living. So I'm now pleading to you just as Bradshaw did: If you are in pain, and don't think you can carry on life as you are, please, please talk to someone. A friend, family member, boyfriend/girlfriend, therapist, random stranger on the street, online support group, hell, even me if that's all you can think of. I just think it's a waste of life to end a life, by any means. And I don't think it's too late for anyone to turn their life around and continue on.
Also, I have decided to make my MESGOB support group on Facebook, so if you agree with me, please join my group to help some of these people who may need some kind of emotional support online. Here's a link: Miss Eccentric's Support Group for Other Blogs.
Thank you for your time.
-Miss Eccentric.

One hundred reasons to blog

2010-03-06T20:56:00.000-08:00

Happy 100th blog to me!!! Yes, you read right, this is my one hundredth blog post!!! For those of you (Mum, Dad, that's you!) who figured out my scavenger hunt without me telling them what to do the whole time, you already knew this, did you not? Because that's basically what all the clues led to. And sorry if my clues were a bit too difficult, but I wanted you to have to work to figure it out (or in my Dad's case, he had to literally be a genius to figure it out, and even then he had a hard time, hehe).
Anyway, moving on...I have decided to try and list a hundred reasons why everyone should blog, just so this one hundredth post of mine is extra special. So...Here goes nothing:

Reason number 100. Because blogging is just plain awesome in general.
99. Blogging is fun.
98. It's a good way to stretch your writing skills.
97. It's a good way to release your frustrations.
96. You can easily get your own opinion out there for others to see and share.
95. You can make friends easily by chatting up your followers and giving out good advice.
94. Helping others is just about the most amazing feeling in the world, and if your blog does that either with good advice, your own life story, or merely a good laugh, it's more than worth it to blog.
93. You can blog about anything. Really, I blogged about farts. Twice.
92. Gripping about random things is fun.
91. You can keep people informed on what's going on in your community.
90. When you're sick you can blog and it comes out sounding really funny the next day.
89. That's most likely the same if you were drunk (not that I've ever had an alcoholic drink. Come on, I'm only eighteen).
88. It's probably the only place on earth where grown people will actually listen to what a eighteen year old has to say, and actually think they're smart.
87. It's like therapy, only you don't have to sign your soul over as pay, and you don't have to listen to, "Hm...Okay, and how do you feel about that?" or "Interesting...And how does that make you feel?".
86. You can blog every day if you like.
85. You can blog once a year if you like (although if you do, your followers might get a bit peeved).
84. If someone does get peeved at you, you can tell them to take a hike and they can't do anything about it, because it's not like they can just punch you or anything.
83. If you aren't sure about something in life (like whether you should go out with the cute guy/girl at work, or what shoes you should wear to the prom, etc. etc.), you can ask advice in a post and chances are someone will help you out.
82. You can put pictures of your adorable kitty-cat's up (I so did that, don't judge me. They're really, really cute and I love them).
81. You can shout-out to people you know (hey BBB!), and they will see it if they read your blog.
80. You can spell things wrong and no one cares except me (I belong to the Spell-Check Police Academy, hehe just kidding. Sort of).
79. You can review things you like, such as books, movies, etc. etc.
78. You can post your own stories up, and it's not even that scary, 'cause no one is really mean about them.
77. You can review things that you don't like, no matter how controversial.
76. It's fun to try your best to confuse the crud out of people whilst blogging.
75. Blogging in a blog where blogs go is not not fun, but can also have not it's not perks when blogging on a none none blog on a site where you don't not blog to let others not see what your opinion isn't.
74. Having people laugh at your crazy phobias is quite healing. Although it most likely will not cure you of said phobias, unfortunately.
73. You can post about your life like a diary if you like.
72. It's a good way to keep in touch with long-distance friends.
71. You can add really cool gadgets on your blog, like a hamster, or fishies, or a quote generator, etc etc.
70. You can write about how much you like House all you want, and no one can stop you, muahahaha!
69. You can add a poll on your blog that can ask just about any question. Like, for instance, "Who is the hottest of hotties? (from my selection).
68. You can put a list of some of your favorite things, like books in my case.
67. You can advertise just about anything (like my other blog, The Power of the Word!!! Please follow me!!!).
66. You can attempt to make a list of one hundred reasons why everyone should blog.
65. And you can point out that you just typed 69, hehe (and act like an immature child in the process).
64. You can freak out and get all superstitious about typing "66".
63. Then you can remember that it's only bad when you type three sixes in a row.
62. You can randomly type-spout-out, "SQUIRREL!!!" any time you want.
61. You can put links up to other sites that you love and/or hate.
60. And then you can tell everyone why you love and/or hate said site.
59. You can brag about your kids, siblings, grandparents, parents, aunt, uncle, friend, cat, house, truck, computer, whatever, all you want.
58. You can post something twice if it tickles your fancy.
57. You can post something twice if it tickles your fancy.
56. You can talk about what you're going to do the next day.
55. You can annoy the crap out of complete strangers any time you feel like it.
54. Which is really, really my idea of fun, and I wish to be able to do it all day everyday, which is easy when having a blog at the ready.
53. You can spout random crap at random.
52. Peaches are not pineapples.
51. You can type as slow as you want, and no one has to know.
50. You can cheer till your voice gives out that you are finally halfway done!!!
49. Then you can grind you teeth and sigh because you know another 49 reasons is going to take forever.
48. You can gripe about having to go to the dentist after grinding your teeth.
47. You can ask people for ideas on what the hell kind of good reason they might have for blogging.
46. You can get no answer.
45. It's just plain awesome when people comment on your blog.
44. And if no one comments, you can comment on your own blog and it makes you feel slightly better.
43. You can go to other people's blogs and follow them.
42. And chances are they'll follow you in return.
41. And if they don't, you can annoy the crud out of them on their own blog till they do.
40. And if that doesn't work and they get annoyed at you and tell you to cut it out, you can stop following them.
39. And then you can boy-cot them on your own blog.
38. Hey, you might even find someone you "like" online while blogging.
37. Or you can reject anyone who "likes" you without feeling guilty, because they can't see you.
36. You could be a famous movie star and no one would know.
35. You can even pretend to be your own fan just so you could get accurate reviews of yourself from strangers.
34. If you're blind you can make the font really big.
33. Or if you wear glasses, no one has to know.
32. You can lie about your age. Not that I do, but sometimes I'm tempted to make myself older so people will take me more seriously.
31. You can use spell check. I swear it has saved my life in the past.
30. You can come up with seventy reasons why everyone should blog.
29. If you post pictures of ten really hot male actors, I guarantee your female/homosexual followers will go gaga.
28. Blogging is just plain interesting.
27. You can complain about movies that are completely disappointing compared to their book counterparts.
26. Blogs can make you cry. And not in a bad way, but in the good I-just-read-a-heart-wrenching-story-about-a-sick-child-who-pulled-through-and-is-now-an-Olympian-or-something kind of way.
25. When blogging, if you fart, you're the only one who will ever notice.
24. You don't have to get dressed up to blog.
23. In fact, you can wear your pajamas while blogging.
22. You can make your Mum laugh so hard her ribs hurt.
21. You can comment on how amazing you are for not mentioning just a moment ago that you just did your 23rd reason.
20. Then you can smack yourself in the head for mentioning it anyway, when you just said you didn't.
19. Then you can explain why it was that your 23rd reason was so important to not not bring up (because of the movie "The Number 23").
18. You can gross people out to the point of nausea, just with one sentence.
17. Or picture (and then not tell your readers what sentence it is that can gross them out so much).
16. If your writing is as awesome as mine you can give your readers a nice mental visual of you doing something really dorky (like slamming your knee on a doorway, yet for some reason having no idea how the hell you just did that).
15. You can end a blog with, "blog ya later" as much as you want.
14. You can skip a reason.
13. Or two.
12. You can pat yourself on the back for not mentioning lucky number thirteen.
11. Damn...Scratch that.
10. You can rhyme in a blog, even when you're in a fog.
9. No matter how stupid that rhyme was, you most likely will laugh at me anyway.
8. If no one laughs aloud at your blog, you never have to know.
7. Unless they say that in a comment, in which case you can delete said comment.
6. Woohoo, I almost didn't mention that the last reason was number six!
5. Oops...You can also retract that last statement, because the last reason before the last reason wasn't the sixth reason, but instead the next to sixth reason.
4. You can still be confusing, even when you only have four reasons to go!
3. God would want us all to have fun blogging.
2. My cute cat Joey blogs.
And the number 1 reason why everyone should blog? Because I said so.

Happy one hundredth blog day, and here's to at least one hundred more!!!
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.
P.S. This is a total afterthought: Not too long ago I found a site that had a widget thingy on it that said something along the lines of, "Congrats on your one hundredth blog!", but now I can't find it again, so I was wondering...If you run across something like that (a site which has a 100th blog post widget), let me know, and send me a link! If not, I guess I can keep trying to find it myself...

A hunting we will go

2010-02-28T17:16:00.001-08:00

I have decided to have a bit of fun...Heheheh...To do so, I have made a sort of scavenger hunt for you all! The question you will be trying to get the answer to is, "what will my next blog be about?"
The answer to this question will only be revealed if you follow the hints I have laid out for you. You may find these hints in this blog, or in my other blog, or even on my YouTube channel, but I wouldn't switch from one to the other unless the hint says to. Pay special attention to anything in the current hint you are trying to figure out that may be different: It may even be something as small as a change in color. Also, you may want to keep a piece of paper close by, and write down all that my hints tell you.
And now for the first hint: Starting here, don't hit the poll. Instead go directly to the second text from the top.
That's all I'm giving you for now!!! Happy hunting!
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.

OMG, Olympics!!! And first Vlog.

2010-02-24T19:49:00.000-08:00

Why have I not covered the Olympics yet? I mean, I blog, so why haven't I even mentioned something as big as the Winter Olympics? What is wrong with me? Maybe because I can never remember what the hell happened...
Anyway, I just wanted to bring up the woman's figure skating from last night (was it last night? I don't know now, I watched whatever it was that we recorded on our DVR last night, so...). More specifically, I wanted to bring up Joannie Rochette, one of the skaters for Canada. And yeah, I know since I live in America that I should be rooting for USA, but I felt for this girl, and I can't help but wish that she will do well. I don't think she placed last night, but her performance was beautiful, and her story was heartbreaking. And yeah, yeah, I know I gripe about cry-ee shows, but this one snuck up on me, and I couldn't help but cry like a little baby. This is why: Joannie Rochette's mother died just days before, yet she still sucked it up and skated. I started crying the moment before she stepped on the ice to perform, because she looked as if she was going to cry herself. Then she skated, and they say it was her personal best performance ever. The moment she was done, she burst into tears. And not just the happy, relieved kind of tears that you get when you know you've done something right. These were the gut-wrenching kind that almost made it so though she could just barely make it off the ice. I blubbered like a total wimp, and I'm not ashamed to say so. And no matter what place she gets this Olympics, I will always remember her as the best skater out there. Hell, the best skater I have ever seen. You go Joannie, don't go for the gold, but do it for your mom!!! And I'm almost positive that she is so very proud of you!!!

And on another note...
I have created and posted my very first Video Log (or Vlog) on YouTube ever!!! Yay!!! Here it is:

Okay, so it's really, really stupid, but that's my specialty, isn't it? I plan on making any future Vlogs way better than that, but I just wanted to get the feel of how to record using my webcam, and how to edit the video and stuff, so now that I understand how to do it, my videos will be awesomely awesomer than this one. And yes I know that awesomer is not a word. But I don't care, because that's the best way I can think to express my feelings of awesomeness. Hey, that's weird, spell-check seems to think that awesomeness is actually a word. Which is funny, because I could have sworn that awesomeness was totally a made up word. Apparently not.
Okay, that's it for now!!!
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.

M.E. in Wonderland

2010-02-21T15:22:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was a blast! Mr. Whiskers' birthday party was even better than I had expected. We left for his place around eleven thirty, and finished getting ready there. That's also where I got to meet a friend of Mr. Whiskers', Kyle. My brother, Mr. Whiskers, Kyle and I had a few good laughs, and then we left (I had to sit on the guys laps the whole way there, because we didn't have enough room in the car! That sucked...). Once there, we all found ourselves in awe at the huge room that Mr. Whiskers' parents had rented for the weekend. It was a villa, really, with at least four rooms, four bathes, a full kitchen, washer and drier, several TV's including a big flat screen TV, a pool table, and more. It was two floors, as well. So add on a staircase leading to the second floor to the list.
The girls stayed on the second floor, and the guys on the first, at least that's what I heard. I didn't get to stay overnight, but I did get to stay there till at least eleven o'clock before my mom came and picked me and my brother up. We didn't get to go in the park itself (just as I had expected), but we all had a blast in my opinion. Kyle and my brother explored the whole hotel (I think it was a six floor hotel, with balconies overlooking the lobby on each floor) together, leaving Mr. Whiskers and I to wander through Downtown Disney, looking through the shops. And boy did we run into a lot of Alice in Wonderland merchandise. It was like we were indeed in Wonderland, following Alice's story from a viewers standpoint. It was everywhere: T-shirts, tea cups, tea, toys, stuffed animals, playing cards, books, aprons, and other merchandise were strewn everywhere, not to mention that they had signs and posters in every window as well. And you know what? I wasn't that surprised, really. I mean, whenever Disneyland has something new coming out, they advertise overly so, selling the new thing like it was water to a bunch of people stuck in a sweltering desert for two weeks. Which is most likely why they are so successful, but whatever. It's also why they'll most likely take over the world some day. Oh yeah, the first worldwide president? Walt Disney, come back from the dead. Because if that happened, and he actually did come back from the dead, he would be the most loved man alive, especially sense he caters to the young, the people who will be running this world when the rest of the adults are too old to do so themselves.
Okay, so enough of my paranoid ramblings, let's just leave it at I had a good time, and I was happy to meet all of Mr. Whiskers' friends from school. And anyway, it was fun not going to the park, because we got to swim and play games like Marco-Polo, and tag, and water polo while in the pool.
And lastly, if any of you are reading (Mr Whiskers' friends, I mean), sorry I don't remember all your names, but at least a shout-out to Kyle, who ran around with my brother and I like a super ninja spy trying to hide from Mr. Whiskers on the various floors of the hotel lobby balconies (and no, we were not being mean to him, we were playing. And yes, I'm a bit too old to be playing like a kid in a hotel, but I don't care. I plan on staying young and fun for as long as possible, which means till I die or otherwise become incapacitated).
Happy birthday again Mr. Whiskers, and blog ya later!
-Miss Eccentric.
P.S. I am adding this on the go, as my reason for not spending the night at the hotel with Mr. Whiskers and his parents and friends is that I (and my family) had previous arrangements: Holy crap I am sore as hell. I knew that I would be hurting after a day of running around like a twelve year old and swimming the rest of day, but this is ridiculous. Everything hurts...Which brings me to my point: When did I get so old? I'm only eighteen, shouldn't I be able to handle this crap without regretting it too much the next day? I remember when I could go to cheerleading practice for several hours, then hike my butt to gymnastics the same day without a worry, then staying up past midnight just because I could...Ah, the good old days...
Okay that's all the complaining I'll be doing about that. Sorry about the whining for a second there.

Dizzyland

2010-02-19T17:54:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was my best bud's fifteenth birthday, so tomorrow...We're all going to Disneyland to celebrate! Unfortunately for us, our timing is quite off, since there's supposed to be a storm this weekend...But, at least we're all going to be together, which is really all that counts I suppose. I mean, we're going to celebrate Mr. Whiskers' fifteenth birthday, so it doesn't really matter where we go to do it. Although, if the rain lets up, we're most likely going to go swimming in a hotel pool (did I mention that the birthday boy and some friends are staying at the Disney Resort? No? That's probably because I unfortunately can't stay over night, as me and my family have plans for Sunday...). My Mum says that it wouldn't be a good idea to swim in the rain (like we did the time before last when Mr. Whiskers invited us to Disney for his birthday), because we could get hit by lightning. You know, 'cause lightning is attracted to water, and all that. And yes, I know that the chance of getting hit by lightning in a hotel pool at Disneyland is very very slim, but you never know, it could happen! Mum says that if I did get hit by lightning, at least she would get a hefty amount of compensation from Disney. She says that if they don't have a sign up at the pool warning you not to swim in the rain, she could sue them. I find this not only hilarious, but actually worth getting hit by lightning for. You see, if I get hit by lightning and die, it will be most likely instantly, therefore no pain, and my family gets a bunch of money for it. If I get hit by lightning and survive, no harm no foul, and me and my family still get a bunch of money. Win-win, no?
(Don't worry if you didn't laugh, my family's sense of humor is quite dark. Especially mine)
Anyway, I'm actually quite glad that we're not going into the park. And I know, you're probably thinking right now, "what?!? It's Disneyland! What is wrong with you?!? Everyone loves Disneyland!!!" But you would be wrong on that standpoint. Because I think that the kind of people who don't like Disneyland are either emo's, who don't like anything cheery (I'll admit that that is partly the reason for which I do not like Disneyland that much, although that is because I just don't like cheery that much, not because I'm emo), or, someone who has a lot of phobias. And I'm one of those people.
Shall I list the most important phobias related to the subject of not liking Disneyland? Well, there's that thing where I don't like germs. I really don't like germies. Their gross, and you would not believe the crap you could catch at a high traffic place like Disneyland. The germs are like the size of a bus or something (No offense to BBB, I do not classify your big damn bus of a home as one big germ. In fact, you're both very clean from what I've seen). And yes, the maintenance people at Disneyland wipe things down every hour, but just think of how many snot-nosed kids can wipe their boogers on ride seat belts, or bars or whatever in an hour. You're scared now, right? Well, you should be.
Then we have the classic fear of heights. This is a common one, but it doesn't mean that I'm still not scared to death to get on one of those stupid roller coasters.
And last but surely not least, we have claustrophobia. This can be very much a problem when you have to stuff yourself into a very small seat and then ride through a very dark amusement ride and then drop down an unexpected dip. This sort of ride kind of includes all three major phobias of mine, the small dark seating, the germs from the last few hundred people who rode before me, and the falling down a large drop. Which sucks, and eliminates quite a few rides, really (for me at least). Then I'm just the party-pooper who sits by the sidelines waiting for everyone else to get off the rides, which also sucks quite a lot. So let's just say that I'm not too disappointed that we're most likely not going into the park.
Any-ways...That's all folks!!! I'll be sure to update tomorrow night and let ya'll know how much fun I had that you didn't! Hehe...
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.
P.S. Besides, am I the only one who hates chipper people? Oh wait, I've already touched on that...Oh well, saying it twice will only get the point across faster. Also, It's A Small World drives me nuts, 'cause then I'm sharing the joy for two weeks afterwords with that stupid song.

Is it smokey in here, or did you put a cry-ee show on?

2010-02-17T11:12:00.000-08:00

Cry-ee show: A cry-ee show is a TV show (and/or movie, really) that makes you cry every time you watch it. I have run across many of those, and through the years, I have grown to resent them, and just can't understand why people still watch that crap.
BBB- I know you guys watch cry-ee shows, shows like Extreme Makeover: Home Edition, and others. I want you to know that it's not necessarily the show that I can't stand, but more the reaction that I get from watching the show. Also, I wanted to ask: what compels people to watch those shows? Why do you want to cry while watching TV?
Okay, so maybe I'm a bit of a hypocrite, because I have several shows that I like to watch that can be construed as cry-ee shows. In fact, I can think of at least two episodes of Charmed (I heart Charmed! I've seen every episode on DVD like, five times!!!) that are repeat offenders on the cry-ee crime of tears. They're both in season one.
The first, Dead Man Dating: Piper falls in love with a ghost while trying to save his soul from an evil Chinese reaper of sorts. Later she must say goodbye to him because it comes time for him to "move on", and I cry every bloody time. I just can't help myself. No matter how many times I put my stubborn face on and force myself to believe that I will not cry this time, in the end, I simply can't hold it in any longer...
The second, Love Hurts: In this episode, Piper (why do all the cry-ee episodes of Charmed include Piper?) finds out that Leo is a Whitelighter, but unfortunately, he's also dying. The only way to save him is for Piper to switch powers with him and heal him, but she can't figure out how to work his powers, so she thinks he's dead. In the end, she finds out that confessing her love for him was the only way to save him, and she cries and says "I love you" and saves him and I need to stop typing about this now because I feel like I'm gonna cry just thinking about the damn episode...
So anyway, back to the main point: Why do we all insist upon watching cry-ee shows, when we know they'll just make us cry like big babies? What is the obsession with crying while we watch TV? Do we like to cry all the sudden? Because if so, why don't we just go kick a wall really hard or slam our fingers in a door? I guarantee that'll make ya cry. Or laugh, if you're a guy (not kidding, my brother once laughed when a hammer fell off the roof and unto his head. Well, not right away, because he was busy trying to stay conscious I expect, but later he laughed his fool butt off about it. But that's a blog for another time...How many times do you think I can say But in one blog? But I guess that can by a butt-blog for another time).
But anyway, all I'm saying is that I just don't understand the reasoning behind deliberately watching a show that makes you cry. But I am curious to know what kind of shows you may watch that make you cry every time you watch it. So leave a comment, and tell me what kind of show or movie or whatever makes you cry! But just make sure you don't butt into other people's business and kick their butts till they tell you their cry-ee shows that make them cry but they just keep watching them.
Also (here I go again starting a sentence with "also"), another cry-ee show that is stupid but for some reason I still watch it but I can't figure out why it bloody hell makes me cry: Psychic Kids. Why do I cry like a complete idiot when those stupid kids start talking about being afraid of ghosts and crap? Why do tears well up in my eyes when they start crying and hugging each other because they finally understand a little of what's going on and they now have a friend who's going trough the same thing? I don't understand this, because I'm not even sure I believe half those kids are psychic, so why does it make me cry? Ugh...And people always wonder why I'd rather watch a comedy instead of a romance or drama or something...Because I hate crying at those stupid damn movie and/or shows.
Any-way (ever notice how much I start sentences with "anyway" and variations?)...Leave a comment and share the joy that is the cry-ee show.
Butt- I mean, blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.
P.S. But butt buttity but butt but, but but, butty butbut, buttata, but but buttbut, but.
(That and what's in my tags makes 55 times that I said butt, but or any variation of the word butt. Including when I said but and butt just now)

Kiss me, I'm...Scottish? Ah screw it, kiss me anyway.

2010-02-13T23:28:00.000-08:00

We had a blast at the Scottish Festival! It was all music (bag pipes, yay!), beer, Scottish memorabilia, and men going commando. And yes, when wearing a kilt, there is nothing but a stiff breeze beneath said kilt.
Anyway, while there, I got a few really cool things:
That's me, coming home from the Scottish games. You can't tell from here, but I'm wearing all the cool stuff I got, including a necklace that I swear is there. (P.S. My hair is not usually that curly, but by leaving it in a wet bun all night and half the day, it stayed sort of curly the rest of the evening, haha! )

This is the supposedly invisible necklace that I swear is around my neck in that picture of me. The image on the top is the Flower Faerie, which if anyone reading this knows me (hiya BBB!), they should know that this symbol suits me just fine (hello, Dmintedfairy? Where'd you think I got it from?).
The image on the bottom is of the Celtic Cross, which basically is not only a symbol of my Scottish heritage, but also symbolizes my Christian faith. Which is cool.

This is me attempting to show off my new wrist bands, which are awesome. I was trying to look serious, like I could actually beat you up, but for some reason I could just not stop laughing like an idiot, so I'm smiling in this one.

In this next one, again I attempted to look serious, but instead came out with a smirk on my face, because that's the best I could do while trying my hardest not to smile. Hey, don't judge! You try to stop smiling on command, it's harder than you think!!!

Next we got a picture of my authentic (at least I hope authentic) British Bobby whistle.

The engraving on it reads as follows:
"Metropolitan
Police
London
1942"
The sound that comes out of that thing is just downright satisfying. I can whistle pretty darn loud without it, but this thing is just sweet. I've always wanted my own Bobby whistle...Now I have one.
This is me trying to show you what is in my hair, not just a random picture of the back of my head. The thingy (don't know what to call it) in my hair is also something I bought while at the Scottish Games.

And finally, we have the Shaw Clan tartan, and badge.
Our moto (I guess that's what it's called) is "Fide et fortitudine" which means (translated using online translation), "Faithful and physical strength" in Latin. It's engraved on the Shaw badge and everything. And the background I used in this picture is our tartan, obviously.

Anyway, I think the best thing we all got out of this experience, was getting back to our roots, you know? The bag pipes especially, touched our souls (however corny that might sound). This is our heritage, where we came from. And boy were we disappointed to find that none of the other Shaw's decided to represent the Shaw Clan at the festival. Which is why we have decided to do as much research about our family history as possible, so we may represent the Shaw Clan ourselves next year.
Also, if you'd like a teaser of the music we heard today, the beautiful bag pipe bands, here's a video I took while inside the Queen Mary:

I recorded almost the whole song, but I just missed the very beginning, so sorry about that. Also, my vantage point sucked, 'cause I was looking over at them from the side, on a staircase. But the point is, you can see the band, and more importantly, you can hear them. And pay special attention to the girls in the back row with the drums, I just love how they twirl their drum sticks!
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.
P.S. I hope this has compelled you to find your own heritage, and embrace it! If not, don't worry, I'll be doing regular posts about random thoughts of mine again soon, so no more boring crap about my personal life!

Valentine Festival of Scotland. And Texas. And don't forget Guantanamo.

2010-02-12T15:41:00.000-08:00

First of all, I just wanted to do an update on what's happening: this weekend is the Scottish Festival, and the day after that is Valentines day, so we have decided to sort of combine the two. None of us are huge fans of Valentines day to begin with (it's a Hallmark holiday, nothing more. If you want your loved one to know how much you really love them, then pick a random day of the week, month, year, whatever, and show them just how much. You don't need a made up holiday to do that), and we all want to go to the Scottish Festival this year (we haven't gone since I don't know when, and we are all very proud of our Scottish heritage, the Shaw Clan from my mom's side), so we will be celebrating Valentines day by going to IHOP for breakfast. Then we shall be going to the Scottish Festival after that (which is located at the Queen Mary in Long Beach). I don't know exactly what will happen once there, what we'll be buying, who we'll make friends with, whether or not we'll run into more Shaw Clan, or what, so I'll try and post again some time tomorrow, most likely in the late evening, just to let ya know. What I do know is that we're going to have fun, and so is our Nana, who can now come places with us much much easier. Before, we had to stuff us all (five people, holy crap you have no idea how hard that is) into a two door pickup truck, but now, we can all sit luxuriously in our four door Dodge Ram, with a Hemi. Yeah, you heard right, a Hemi. Have I not posted pictures yet? I'm surprised, I wanted to, I guess I just lost track of what I was doing. Hey, here's one now:
Meet Bella, our southern bell! (Everything's bigger and better in Texas, get it?)

Nice, right? And bonus! We have my cat Joey in the shot as well (he's right by the back tire, in case you didn't notice)!!!

Anyway, now that that's through, I'd like to gripe just a little bit: what in the world does our President think he's doing?!? Remember when in election, he said that he would pull all our troops out of Iraq? Well, he lied, evidently. He just sent thirty thousand more troops over, and has not pulled any out. Ugh, am I the only one here getting worked up about this? I mean, he makes all these promises, and instead he just does the exact opposite of said promises! And you know how all our prisons are too full here in America? Well, he's closing Guantanamo Bay. You know, the prison where we keep all our terrorists locked up? Yeah, he's going to disperse all the prisoners from Guantanamo to all of our own prisons, here in the United States. Oh yeah, that'll solve our crowded prisons problem!
Any-way...I'm gonna stop griping now, before I get too worked up and turn this into a super-huge-blog.
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.

My top hottest guys

2010-02-09T01:11:00.000-08:00

Okay, so I accidentally came across a hot vampire poll when searching for Angel seasons, and the guys they all thought were totally hot got me thinking: I know of some actors that are totally more hot than the guys they think are hot. So to prove my point, I have found some pictures of ten different guys that are totally hot, and I would like to know your opinion on who you think is the hottest out of my hotties. I for one can not pick between my hottest of hotties, so help me out here. Now, I must warn you, before continuing, you might want to get a few tissues for the drool, and take a deep breath. Also, I should add that these pictures are in no particular order, so don't go thinking that I'm playing favorites by the placing of said pictures. And it's pretty long, but completely worth it.

1: Johnny Depp

Who doesn't like the pirate look?

Voted worlds sexiest man alive, twice.

2: David Boreanaz

Now's the time for the tissues, to sop up the drool.

Who doesn't love a hot brooding vampire? I know I do.
Speaking of vamps...

3: Peter Facinelli

I don't know about you, but I think I need a doctor.

Now I know I need a doctor...

4: Robert Pattinson

But of course I could not bring up the Cullen's without including vamp-hunk Edward.

Some girls say he looks too girly. Does this look girly to you? (hint: NO)

5: Jackson Rathbone

Out of all the Cullen guys though, Jasper just doesn't get enough credit for being a total hotty. Not anymore though, thanks to me.

Bad Jasper, we love you!

6: Aiden Turner

Ah, yet another hot vamp...Although not from Twilight, instead BBC's Being Human.

What is it with vampires being so hot, anyway? I swear they're all hotties these days...Not that I'm complaining.

7: Sean Connery

Ah, one of the classics...And my Mum's personal fav (this is for you, Mum!).

Mum says he's one of those hotties who just keep getting better with age.

8: David Tennant

"Barty Crouch Jr. Deemed Lickable", reads the Daily Prophet.

"To be, or not to be". I don't know, but you could just keep asking till I do!

Why Doctor, you look good for 900 some-odd years! (Sorry, couldn't show David Tennant without a Doctor Who reference)

9: Julian McMahon

No wonder Phoebe went gaga over Cole Turner for so long...(Charmed reference, it's all I got)

It's always the bad boys, I'm telling ya...

And finally, 10: Matt Bomer

Voted sexiest uprising star.

Not even Neal Caffrey could forge those looks...

And that's it. Wow, you're very lucky I got all the way through that without blushing my way into a corner to hide in...Yes, I know a good hotty when I see one (obviously, have you not seen the lineup I have?), and I'm not afraid to point it out, but posting it online where friends and family can all see it? A tad embarrassing. But I got through it, and now I feel better.
Okay, so I'll put a poll at the bottom of my blog, and you can vote for whichever guy you think is the hottest of hotties (from my selection).
Now go drink some cold water!
-Miss Eccentric.

Super Bowl XLIV

2010-02-07T12:26:00.000-08:00

Today is the 2010 Super Bowl!!! The teams playing today are the Indianapolis Colts, and the New Orleans Saints. The Saints are supposedly the underdog, from what I understand, because the Colts' quarterback (Peyton Manning) is really good. In my opinion, I think that the Saints will see this coming, and overcompensate for the fact that they have Manning, and shut him out altogether. I even placed a bet with my Bro that the Saints would sack Manning and injure him in some way at least once in the game (by injure him, I don't just mean he'll be hurting at the end of the game, I mean they'll actually have to take a knee at least once, and send medics out there to see if he's alright). I also bet that the Saints would run in a touchdown from the fifty yard line or more at least once by the end of the game (slightly unlikely, because big dramatic touchdowns like that are rare, but I'm still willing to bet that the Saints are determined enough to pull it off). And of course, I am rooting for the Saints, but you've probably already figured that out, huh? It is pretty obvious. Anyway, I'll leave it at that for now, and later (after I watch the game, of course) I'll add to this post and let you know how it all went (whether I broke the bank, or struck gold).
GO SAINTS!!!
Until later today, Miss Eccentric.
(Just in case you're wondering, XLIV means 44 in Roman Numerals)

Way later today...

It was their first Super Bowl ever, they came from 10 points behind and went to 14 points ahead, and they are....The Saints!!!
Was I surprised? Absolutely not. Obviously, I knew from even before the game that the Saints would indeed win. And I have this blog to prove it. The best part? I won fifty cents from my dad, the genius (and I'm not exaggerating, to be a genius your IQ has to be 140 or higher, and his is roughly 160 or more last time he checked). Right before watching the game, we all (my Bro, Mom, Dad and I) placed our fifty cent to a dollar bets, and I happened to bet my dad that the Saints would run in a touchdown from the fifty yard line or more. Well, Tracy Porter (cornerback to the Saints, and yes, cornerback, not quarterback), ran 74 yards to the in-zone, assuring New Orleans' win (31 to 17, in case you're wondering). The other bets placed earlier today by family and me:
Bro bet Mom that Peyton Manning would throw a touchdown in the first half, gaining fifty cents from Mom.
Mom bet Bro that the Saints would win the coin toss, gaining fifty cents from Bro (they called heads and got it).
Bro bet Mom that the Saints would kick instead of receive, losing fifty cents to Mom.
Dad bet Mom that Peyton Manning would score only two touchdowns, but the Saints would win anyway, gaining one dollar from Mom.
And finally, I bet Bro that Peyton Manning would get injured at least once during the game, unfortunately losing fifty cents to him.
I also bet my Grandfather on my mom's side that the Saints would win, so he owes me a dollar for betting that the opposition would win. But I'll collect later.
In other news, I have predicted that there will be a new sports drink, called New Orleans Brees, after the Saints quarterback, Andrew Brees. They'll have a commercial about it and everything. It'll have Drew Brees, and he'll be throwing the bottle really far or drinking it or something, and then he'll say something like, "Wanna throw like me? Drink Brees."
Any-ways...That's all I got for now, folks. It's time for me to end this post. But before I go, Congratulations New Orleans Saints!!! You all deserve it, and one more thing...Who dat!!!
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.

Save Eastwick!!!

2010-02-06T16:08:00.000-08:00

I just remembered...
Have you ever heard of the ABC show called Eastwick? Well, they're canceling it, which really sucks because in my opinion it was the best witchcraft-related show since Charmed. So I have decided that I want to ask all of you to please help me save Eastwick, by signing these two petitions (they are both free online petitions, and you don't have to give out your real name):
Petition one
Petition two
My family and I have all signed both petitions each, but it would be greatly helpful if some of you would sign it as well. In order to save such a fabulous show from destruction, we must all band together against the TV companies who cancel our favorite shows! We must stand as one, and shout aloud, "WE WANT OUR SHOW BACK!!!" in all caps.
Okay, that is all. You may proceed in signing said petitions.
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.
P.S. SAVE EASTWICK!!!

Toyota: ha ha!!!

2010-02-05T20:02:00.000-08:00

(To Aunt and Uncle in big damn bus of a home: don't worry, I'm not downing your golden turd, they haven't had problems with that as far as I know)
Okay, so I don't know if you've seen the news lately, but Toyota is having some big troubles. They have had to recall several of their car models. The list of cars is as follows:
2009-2010 RAV4
2009-2010 Corolla
2009-2010 Matrix
2005-2010 Avalon
2007-2010 Camry
2010 Highlander
2008-2010 Sequoia
2007-2010 Tundra
2009-2010 Pontiac Vibe
(For more information on the recalls, click here)
Quite a few, yes? Supposedly the problems are everything from brake failure, headlight failure, and I even heard that sometimes they excellerate by themselves, and one lady (at least) crashed into a tree because she couldn't stop her car. I've even heard that the Sequoia actually catches on fire while driving down the street. I know, right? That's a lot of problems, and a lot of cars with said problems. And get this, in the article I left a link for, it said that the people of Toyota's advice for the owners of those cars is (quote):
"If you need to stop immediately, the vehicle can be controlled by stepping on the brake pedal with both feet using firm and steady pressure. Do not pump the brake pedal as it will deplete the vacuum utilized for the power brake assist. Shift the transmission gear selector to the Neutral (N) position and use the brakes to make a controlled stop at the side of the road and turn off the engine. If unable to put the vehicle in Neutral, turn the engine OFF. This will not cause loss of steering or braking control, but the power assist to these systems will be lost."
Seriously? Push real hard on the brake. Wow, that's good advice!
(sarcasm)
Turn off engine. Wow, more great advice!
(do I need to say it? Yep, more sarcasm)
I mean, really. How dumb do they think we are? If you're car was going out of control, what would you do? I would automatically think to first try the brakes, and if that didn't work, I would then turn it off. Duh.
Anyway, according to the news I watched last night, they say that the Prius could be next to be recalled. Ha! I knew it!
You know, they say that the Prius is so "environmentally safe", because it's a hybrid, but did you know that the batteries they use in those "hybrids" has mercury in them? And did you also know that mercury is extremely poisonous? The symptoms of mercury poisoning can include:
Impairment of peripheral vision;
Disturbances in sensations - that 'pins and needles' feeling as well as numbness - usually in the hands feet and sometimes around the mouth;
Lack of coordination of movements, such as writing;
Impairment of speech, hearing, walking;
Muscle weakness;
Skin rashes;
Mood swing, memory loss, and mental disturbances.
Yeah, it's serious. Very serious, and they put that crap in our "environmentally safe" cars. And you can get mercury poisoning from something as simple as a thermometer breaking, so what would happen if you got in an accident, and the battery that has mercury in it breaks, releasing the deadly poison into the air? And what happens to these batteries when they get thrown in a landfill? They just sit there, becoming more and more dangerous as they erode and leak, contaminating the whole area around them. And they expect us to think that those cars are safe...
Which is why I would be very pleased indeed if those death-mobiles would be recalled, never to be manufactured nor sold again. Anyway, I think I've gripped enough, so...I'll sign off now.
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.

Life in the fast lane: dork-fish

2010-02-02T14:06:00.000-08:00

I have seen the light, and my blog-funk has lifted!!!

And no, the word "dork" has nothing to do with a whale's penis. I looked it up. The point here is, I'm a total dork-fish. Seriously, all I do is bang myself up all day, just by walking through the house. And I'm not being dramatic here. All I do is stub my toes, or wipe my shoulder out on a doorway, or trip over a cat (baby-gate, shoes, sweatshirt, box, stool, stairs, bed, rug, curb, grass, more stairs, my own two feet, you name it, I trip over it), or (my families personal favorite) slam my shoulder into a door because I tried to go through it too fast and I didn't get it open before my body decided to go through the door anyway. My Mom likes to say that I look like Garfield when I do that...You know, like when he's chasing after Jon's car and it stops, and he slams into the back window? Yeah, that's me...
Anyways, this last little dork-stunt I have pulled is hitting my knee really hard against a wall. How did I hit my knee against a wall, you ask? If only I knew...Well, I do know that I was getting up to get something and I was kind of running and I somehow hit my knee while rushing past the doorway. Don't ask me how, the only thing I can come up with is that my knee had a mind of it's own, and it was like, "You know what? I think I'm going to jump out at that doorway and surprise it! Ouch! Okay, that didn't work how I thought it would..."
Now, one thing you should know about me is that I'm pretty fast paced all through the day (well, except in the early mornings, 'cause I'm not a morning person). I pretty much run everywhere I go, which is why I smack into things all day, evidently. The funny thing is, when I was little, I was the careful one: while my brother hit his head against things just to make me laugh, I never ever got hurt. This changed sometime between being thrown up in the air in cheer, and doing back-hand-springs in gymnastics. All the sudden I can't stop getting hurt. I'm lucky enough that it's mostly just lots of cuts and bruises, however.
Another thing you should know about me, is that I bruise really easily. I do not know why when I hit my elbow against the counter or something that there is magically a bruise there that shouldn't really be there because I didn't hit it that hard, but it's true. And this bruise on my knee is looking all purple and blue and stuff. It's all, "Hiya! I'm a bruise! Oh yeah, did I forget to introduce my friend Goose-egg here? How rude of me."
How did I get this way? I don't remember being so clumsy in cheer. In fact, I hardly ever fell, and if I did, it was one of my spotter's fault (if one of you are seriously reading this, which I doubt because you haven't seen or heard from me in like, six years, no offense, but I was good at flying). And I definitely wasn't falling all over myself in gymnastics, because if I had I would have broken something for sure. Maybe it's 'cause I'm getting older? Gee, I never thought being eighteen would make me old...Maybe it's just 'cause I'm getting more impatient as the years pass, and my brain is just so scattered (most likely filled with thoughts of writing, whether in my blog or my novel) and I can't seem to pay attention to everything around me? That sounds more like it. Either way, I seem to live life in the fast lane, and I can't keep the dork-fish side of me out of sight when in said fast lane.
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.
P.S. Happy Groundhog day! Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow, so here's hoping this actually works and we get more winter!!!

_ (Blank)

2010-01-31T20:20:00.000-08:00

Ugh...I have no idea what to blog about...You know, I haven't ever really had this problem. I always find something to blog about at the last minute, but this time, I really don't have anything. What's the matter with me? I don't understand, it's been like, five days since I last blogged, and for some reason I still can not think of anything to blog about. Maybe it's a conspiracy? Okay, yeah, I know. I've said that a lot, "maybe it's a conspiracy?" But you've got to admit, it is kind of strange that of all people I can't think of anything to blog about. I have been blogging every four to five days or less since July last year, not to mention that I have two blogs that I write in, yet for some reason today of all days I can not think enough to actually come up with something to put in this damn blog. So, what if it is a conspiracy? What if they're trying to keep me from blogging because some of my blogs have been controversial, and they don't want word getting out that there are a lot of conspiracies going on? What if they're going to come and break my computer so I can't tell the world about all their secrets and whatnot? And who are "they", you ask? If I told you, they would have to kill me. And you. And anyone you tell. So why am I telling you about these conspiracies? Because otherwise no one will ever know.
So anyway, sorry, today for some reason I'm just not feeling very funny. I mean, I did the whole "paranoid" skit just now (but it's true, even this is probably a conspiracy! They took my humor!), but I'm just not feeling it. I'm just super tired and I can't stop thinking about my self-set deadline for tomorrow (I have to post my short story on my other blog). I don't know, I think I'll just go do that now, and then I'll feel better.
Blog ya later (hopefully), Miss Eccentric.
P.S. Hey, maybe you guys can give me a few ideas of what to blog about, and I'll pick one for another day! Right? Okay, so if you think of anything, just leave a comment and let me know!

Farts: we all do them 2

2010-01-26T23:59:00.000-08:00

Okay, so I thought up a few more farts, so here they are: (As my aunt in the big damn bus of a home put so kindly) there's the P*ssy, or Crotch fart, which is when you're (well, only us women as far as I know) sitting, and you fart, and it creeps up to the front and gets stuck there so you have to wiggle in your seat to get it out; there are popcorn farts, the ones that burn on the way out (ever hear the expression, "hotter than a popcorn fart"? No? Well, now you have), and have a certain "unique" smell to them; and then there are the hot-dog farts, which not only can burn on the way out like a popcorn fart, but also have their very own "special" scent. The only way to tell the difference between a popcorn fart and a hot-dog fart, is the smell: the hint? Hot-dog farts always smell like hot-dogs, while popcorn farts do not.
Okay, so that's all I got, but if you think of one, let me know and I'll post about it (maybe).
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.
P.S. I almost forgot! My dad went browsing for other classifications of farts after he read my blog, and he found a really funny fart site, that sadly but truly dwarfs my small little blog, but whatever. I just thought it would be nice and mature of me to post a link of said fart site, so ya'll didn't think I hid it from you just because I knew it was better than my blog and I was jealous to think that you would think that my blog totally sucked because the fart site is totally much better than my wee-bitty little tiny blog about farts that is so not as cool as their giant fart site about farts that's better than my fart post of farts and besides I thought that maybe you would stay loyal to me and check it out and even if it is so totally better than my fart post of farts you'll still say that my fart post of farts is better than their not-so-sucky fart site of farts that's so much better than my fart site of farts, so here's the link: Link.
*deep breath*
Yeah, I know. That made total sense. Right? (F.Y.I, if you're wondering, I said fart/farts thirty-two times, including when I said fart/farts just now, twice. Well, okay, since I said it in the labels thingy whatsit, that would make it thirty-eight, which is significantly slightly more)
And wow, this is like, the longest P.S. I have ever done. It just keeps getting longer and longer and longer!!! And look, I'm making it even longer by saying that I keep making it longer and longer and longer!!! I had better stop, before I have to enter this P.S. message in the Guinness World Records, seeing as this is the longest P.S. ever!!! Okay, I'm going to stop. Really, I am. I'm gonna stop, I swear! What, you don't believe that I'll stop sooner or later? Because I will. In fact, I'm gonna stop right-
OMG, I can't stop. How come I can't stop? I guess I'll just have to go cold-turkey, and just stop typing in the middle of-

Farts: we all do them

2010-01-23T18:25:00.000-08:00

Yes, you read right, even us girls fart, though we pretend that we don't. We also pretend that our pee does not make a splashing sound when it hits the water, that we wake up with perfect hair and makeup on and do not sleep in over-sized T-shirts but skimpy little tank tops and underwear instead, that our breath does not stink in the morning, that we never ever go number two, that we don't get bloated when we eat fast food, and that evidently when we get older and/or have kids we lose control of our bladders and pee when we laugh. But the real subject here, is farts: we all do it, but for some reason it is considered rude and gross and should never be done in public if it can be avoided. Well, when we're kids we think it's funny, and guys usually think it's funny even when they're old, but the point is, everyone on the planet farts one time or another in their lives, yet farting is so very taboo in polite society. If you're in a grocery store and you fart, you either blame someone else or you run from that isle as fast as you can and hope no one notices that you were just there when they start to smell it. For instance, the egg and onion powder incident: my brother ate egg, with onion powder a few years back, and boy were we sorry. He cleared out two stores, Target and Home Depot that day. His fart smelled so bad that when he farted in an isle we would literally run away from it, and it followed us. And the funniest part? The people who worked there were actually running around the isles looking for a dead animal. And I'm not kidding, my mom heard them talking about a dead smell on the isles that he farted on, and she saw them looking around for the body. It was bad, and from that I have gained much experience. Experience I will now use to ask you to never ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, eat the combo of egg and onion powder. In fact, you should always keep a forty eight hour gap between the consumption of egg and onion powder. Just never mix the two. Otherwise, you might blow a gaping-green hole in the atmosphere. And not the environmentally-safe green.
Which brings me to fart levels. Every fart has a different identity: there are greeny-puffum-smoke farts, which float through the air like smoke, searching for any organism unlucky enough to have to breathe; there are silent-but-deadly farts, where you are lucky enough to get them out with no sound, but then your neighbor across the street drops dead, their face contorted in disgust and their complexion a certain shade of green that can only be explained as, "they looked as if they were going to be sick!"; there are butt-flappers, the kind of fart that sounds so loud coming out that you curl up and die of embarrassment, yet surprisingly it doesn't hardly stink at all; there are walk-farts, the kind that come out a little bit every time you take a step, whether you are clinching your butt or not, thus leaving a trail of stink in your wake; there are sharts, the kind of fart that is not just a fart, but also a little something at the end (you go to fart, and you end up sh*ting instead); and finally, you have the oily-fart. My mom made this one up, and it is indeed a very special fart. It's the kind of fart that lingers, like an oil-slick, just slowly slimming itself across the walls, waiting till you enter the room again. And when that happens, it ATTACKS!!! It just springs from the wall, or the couch or whatever, and attaches itself to your face, suffocating you with a stink so mighty, one might call it the Master Stank.
Now, I'm sure there are other classes of fart that I have failed to list, but I have covered the basics here. But if you think of a kind of fart that I have missed, just leave a comment telling me what it's called, and what it does. That would be hilarious.
Fart- I mean, Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.
P.S. My mom seems to think that because I think farts are funny, the guys are going to be crawling all over me, and she says they'll want to know how old I am, and am I cute, so...I'm eighteen, and yes, I am very cute. And I'm not full of myself at all.
(Okay, I was so just kidding, I don't want any online boyfriends. Relationships should be real, not electronic)

God's allergic to us

2010-01-19T15:43:00.000-08:00

Is it raining wherever you are? I'm in Lakewood California here, and yes, it is raining quite a lot. Which is weird, because it hardly ever rains here. And when it does, it's just a little spittle, and it doesn't last very long. You know how they say that when it rains, it's because God's crying? Well, here it's more of a sneeze. It's like he's allergic to us, and whenever he get's too close he sneezes, it sprinkles a bit down here, and then it just clears up and goes back to sunshine (because he left, afraid that he'd sneeze again). But for the past couple of days, it's actually been raining for real here. With thunder and lightning and everything! I like to think that when there is thunder and/or lightning, it's because the angels in heaven are bowling. And yes, I know that sounds immature, but it's a nice way to think about it.
So anyway, from what I hear it's going to keep on raining for the rest of the week! Which is good, in my opinion. Well, good until the weird Californian weather kicks in and it goes from pouring down hard to clear sunny sky in a manner of minutes. And, of course, it's not that great for my beautiful outdoor cat Joey. He is impossibly adorable when he's wet, but he doesn't particularly like it. In fact, when it rains he sort of disappears for a while (most likely hiding in some bushes or something), then when it lets up a bit, he comes to either the front or the back of the house and screams ("I'm wet! I'm wet! Come dry me, I'm wet!"). Then I bring him in the house, dry him off and feed him, and then he proceeds to sit on my lap and warm up, which he is doing as I type. It's so cute, he's totally fast asleep on my bed right now, with his face buried against my leg. And he's snoring! OMG, he is soo cute!!!
Okay, enough of that, I better go 'cause my parents are back from the store and most likely brought food with them. But how am I supposed to get up with the cuteness on my lap? Oh well, I guess I'll have to wake him up...I'll be paying for it later, though...
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.
P.S. Don't get me wrong on the God jokes, I don't mean any disrespect, I'm just having a bit of fun. And besides, I like to think that God has a good sense of humor. Just look at Britney Spears (Okay, so that was a really mean joke on her part, but do I care? No, I do not)!

Google Search is hilarious!

2010-01-16T21:05:00.001-08:00

Have you ever typed a few words into Google Search and seen the most popular questions that it provides you with, that match those first few words you typed in? Are you extremely confused by what I said and can not understand one ounce of what I really meant to say? Let me make it easy for you. I went to Google Search, and typed just a few key words in, and this is what it came up with:
(that's the search box->) [why ] (that's it, that's all I had to type, and I got the following)
why do men have nipples (they would look stupid without them)
why is the sky blue (because God said so)
why is my poop green (stop eating so much spinach!)
why does my vag smell (eeewww, personal problem)
why do cats purr (because they love us)
why did i get married too (because Cupid has a sense of humor)
why do dogs eat poop (because they're saying, "I'd rather eat my own poop than that nasty meatloaf you keep giving me under the table")
why can't i own a canadian (because this is America, you idiot)
why did the chicken cross the road (so you could run it over and have lunch)
why are black people so loud (I know! That one is very racist, I will not answer it)

Okay, so that's what all came up. Sorry about all the answers in parentheses, I couldn't resist answering those stupid questions in my own smart-arse way. And yes, I so just said arse. What of it?
Anyway, I just thought that was really funny, and also it's a good way to pass your time. I mean, I could sit there for hours just typing random things in, and getting a million stupid results from Google Search trying to finish my sentence. Oh yeah, try typing in "robert pat" and see how many results you get involving Robert Pattinson. It's hilarious.
To try this, all you need to do is go to Google Search, and type in something obscure like "why" or "how" or "why does my" and see how many ridiculous results you get (caution: when typing "why does my" you may get a lot of nasty stuff like "why does my vag smell", so if you are under eighteen I advise you to not do it. But I guess by me saying that, you will now do the opposite, so whatever).
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.
P.S. If you find something really funny, leave a comment on the key words you used to get it, and I'll check it out!

Lemon chicken banana cup, throw a wet tortilla at your House!!! (random thoughts)

2010-01-12T13:21:00.000-08:00

Yay! The best show in the world recorded on our DVR last night!!! Which, of course, would be House! My favoritest show ever! Well, what can I say about the episode...What's not to like? Of course I loved the new episode. How can I not like any episode of House? Anyway, yeah I wanted to vent out a bit of my excitement at House coming back, but I also wanted to vent a lot of frustration that House is not coming back for good. Yes, you read right: House is not coming back right now. We all have to wait yet another two weeks before we get to see any new episodes, which really sucks butt if you think about it. I mean, why do they do that? Why do they take two week hiatus' (did I do that right? I'm not really sure what the plural for hiatus is...) all the time? What's the point? They end a season, then just when they bring it back, they give you one new episode, then they make you wait two weeks till the next episode!!! Do they do it just to piss us off? Because if so, it's working. I am currently very not happy about having to wait another two weeks till the next episode to my favoritest show ever. And yeah, I very much know that "favoritest" is not in the slightest a word. But I don't care at this point, because I WANT MY FAVORITEST SHOW TO COME BACK NOW!!! And if they do a two week hiatus again after this two week hiatus, you don't even want to begin to imagine what I will do. Because if you did, your brain would heat to the point of explosion. I may sound all funny and paranoid and cute with my weird spellings and my little rants, but let me be the first to tell you: I am evil. You saw my blog about how I chase my big brother around with a frying pan? Well that's just one tiny little bad deed that I do sometimes. Try living with me, and then tell me I'm not evil. Or better yet, say something mean about a family member of mine, or a friend, and you will see the wrath of me. Or even better still, take away my favoritest show for two weeks all the time, and maybe then you will feel the need to watch your back. I watch plenty of crime shows, I know about forensics. I know how to get away with stuff without leaving evidence. So there.
Anyway, as I was writing my very scary threat just now, I got to thinking: I may be nothing but an evil genius waiting to come out on the inside, but on the outside I'm just a very paranoid person who can go from threatening one's well-being, to paranoid funny girl once again in mere seconds.
Okay, so that's not really what I was thinking as I wrote my threat, but that was what I was think while writing the part that says "anyway, as I was writing my very scary threat just now, I got to thinking:". And if I am confusing you, too bad. I can't help it, I just don't know how to stay on one subject for too long. I may write a lot about one thing sometimes, but my brain is thinking of fifty different things while I'm writing, and to write all my thoughts out it might look something like this: Why are they taking a two week hiatus again? I really do love House...Is Wilson gay? He acts gay sometimes. He had a wife, though...House was good at cooking, does that mean he cooks for Wilson? Or did he give that up when he got his license to practice-
I'm hungry. Do we have any pizza left- was that my parents truck I heard? No, not it yet. They had some errands to run...What was that? It sounded like a bang- oh well, it's gone. Cheesecake! Uncle Don said something about bringing cheesecake to Nana's birthday party tomorrow! Crap, I forgot to make her a card last night...I have a lot of paper though, so it shouldn't take long...My nose itches a little. You know, they say if your nose itches you're about to kiss a fool. That can't be right though, 'cause no one's in the room with me that is kissable...Ugh, I should just get it over with and finish this blog instead of writing my strange thou-
Ooh, there's some mint candies on the desk next to me! I like mint. It reminds me of my nickname (one of many) Dmintedfairy. Get it? Okay I'm gonna stop writing my thoughts now, 'cause it's really hard and so far I'm only picking out a few thoughts at once and ignoring all the other ones I'm thinking while trying to type (woops, I typed type wrong, it was, tyoe he he) them out...Which means I'm leaving a lot of thoughts out and I am getting very bored trying to explain now, so...Hold on, I need to visit the restroom. Did you know that in other countries they don't call it a restroom or bathroom or anything like that? They just call it the toilet, because that's what it is.
Okay, I'm back. Wow, that was fast. It was like a record or something. I wonder what the world record for peeing really fast is?
Anyway, I think you get the drift of it. Oh yeah, before I forget: I ordered some books online the other day, and when I checked my email last night it said that they had been shipped, so I'll have seven new books in three to eight days!!! Yay!!!
Now what was this blog about originally? Oh yeah, House. Which brings me to my conclusion, and my original thought when I was typing "anyway, as I was writing my very scary threat just now, I got to thinking:" which is: what if they're taking a two week hiatus not only as a teaser, but because they're going- (hold on, here's another thought that popped into my head: I watched the last episode of Doctor Who with David Tennant in it the other day, and yes it was awesome, but I'm going to miss him as The Doctor. He was my favorite) -to end the series soon? I mean, House has been on for a while now, so what if they're teasing us with the limited-episode-diet because this is the last season, or the next to last season? If so, my earlier threat applies, only tenfold. Tenfold tenfold, times infinity. And yes, that sounds very juvenile, but I don't care because it's true.
And on that very sad note (the note in which House ends...), I think this blog has become large enough, and I had better stop- (hey, did you ever notice that sometimes when you type really fast the computer can't keep up with you and it's a few letters behind?) -now before it becomes just way too big and confusing.
Blog ya later, Mi- (I just accidentally typed Mii) -ss Eccentric.
P.S. Don't worry, for all (maybe not all, wahahaha) my future blogs I won't put you through the mental agony with typing my thoughts out that I have today. I wouldn't be surprised if your brain has melted from reading this, and I want to keep the death-tole down, soo...Okay that's it.

The amazing dictionary of sounds

2010-01-09T02:09:00.000-08:00

The amazing dictionary of sounds is a dictionary in which you can learn how to spell sounds. Sounds like my personal favorite, the zerbert (this is embarrassing, but I don't really know how to spell zerbert, so this spelling is just a guess). The amazing dictionary of sounds (or TADOS) is not a real book (yet), though. It is completely made up, by none other than me. I got this idea when I was chatting on yahoo! chat with my Aunt In The Big Damn Bus Of A Home, and I spelled a zerbert out to her. She thought it was so funny that she suggested that I should make a book out of it, so here I am, trying to spell funny sounds out like a total weirdo. Anyway, so here are a few funny sounds that I have attempted to spell:

Alien probe and/or scanner:
A sound that may come from an alien device which scans or probes.
"Nnnnneeeerrrierierierierierierierierierrrrrrrrr..." (pronounced as spelled, in a high pitched voice).

Zerbert aka Razzberry (not to be confused with raspberry, which is indeed a berry):
A zerbert is a sound one might make to annoy a sibling. To make such a sound, one sticks their tongue out and blows, thus creating a sound in which every child recognizes.
"Pthbthbthbtbthbthththththththth!!!" (caution: one might spit on the recipient of a zerbert if it is deployed at close range).

Flush:
A sound one might hear if they were to flush their toilet.
"Ffffflshshshshshshshshsh!!!" (pronounced as spelled, with emphasis on the "fffff" and the "shshshshshsh" tapering off at the end).

Old cat meow:
A sound one might hear coming from either an old cat, or a very sleepy/grumpy/lazy cat.
"Mrraowwwfff..." (For best results, one should let their eyelids droop, like they're sleepy).

Okay, that's all I got right now, soo...Maybe I'll think of some more later.
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.

Dark vs. Light, Day vs. Night, Black vs. White, Good vs. Evil

2010-01-07T16:28:00.000-08:00

Disclaimer: The title to this blog has nothing to do with race, I am merely talking about the colors black and white. So don't go calling me racist or anything.

Dark vs. Light:
Did you know that dark chocolate is actually better for you than milk chocolate is? Yeah, it's true: dark chocolate is a potent antioxidant, and it can help to lower blood pressure in moderate doses. Whereas the milk in milk chocolate cancels all that good stuff out, therefore making it not worth the effort (well, any chocolate is worth the effort, even if it's bad for you, but that's besides the point). White chocolate is no better than milk chocolate is, so don't even try to get around it that way. Because you may be thinking, "yeah, but dark chocolate is bitter, and milk and/or white chocolate tastes better", but I don't care. And the milk in white and milk chocolate doesn't care either. Even if you like it better, it's not going to get any better for you. So there.
Now, okay fine I agree that milk chocolate tastes better, but I also like dark chocolate so if I had a choice I might just choose dark over light.
The conclusion: Dark wins.

Day vs. Night:
That's easy, I prefer nighttime over day. I get hot easy, and I just don't like to go and bake in the sun, or squint in the shade. I would rather go out and watch the stars in the dead of night, the cool air on my skin, the moon looming over majestically. Not to mention that I am not a morning person, at all. I am a night owl for sure, and I like to stay up well past three AM when possible.
The conclusion: Night wins.

Black vs. White:
Again, easy. White is a clean color, and I am a total clean freak. However, black really does look good on my pale skin, and I do prefer to wear dark colors rather than light colors. And black is night personified, so I think my answer is clear.
The conclusion: Black wins.

Good vs. Evil:
Good, obviously. I do not like things like lying, stealing, killing or just plain hurting someone in general. I go out of my way to be nice to people, even if I don't particularly like them. However, I do like to be evil sometimes, but not necessarily the kind that people usually associate with the word "evil". More like the kind where I play a prank on my brother, or threaten to hit him on the head with a frying pan (okay, so I chased him with one a few times in the past, but I never actually hit him, so that doesn't count). And I very much like to flash a nice evil smile a him and creep him out all to hell. And I like to hide someplace and then reach out and touch his shoulder or something, thus scaring the crap out of him and making him scream like a girl. And also teasing him about nightmares of his by acting them out is fun. But none of that makes me evil. It just makes me moderately evil. But not pure evil. Because if it came down to it, I would suck it up and do the right thing in the end. But I might still crack a few jokes while I'm at it...
The conclusion: Good wins (although evil comes in close behind it, muahahahahaha!).

Anyway, I don't know what started this, but I'm just having a bit of fun. Soo...
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.

Frustrations of an internet user...

2010-01-03T18:46:00.000-08:00

Okay, so I don't really use the internet for much other than blogging, but I really don't like it when I can't access the internet at will. I mean, just yesterday I went the whole day without any access to the internet (okay, so not all day, but a lot of it!). And no, we did not forget to pay the bill, we payed just fine right on time as usual. No, it was the internet service's fault. For some reason, they screwed something up and the internet would just not work. We tried to call them and see what was going on, but the line was totally busy, so we figured that they were probably getting complaints from other people. Which means that we're not the only ones to have that problem. So if they're getting so many complaints, why did it take them all day to get it up (again, exaggerating just a bit)? It was like, somewhere around twelve AM before it came back, so what the heck happened to it to cause it to take that long to get back up and running? I mean, what exactly is it that causes the internet to go down? I can't even begin to know how the internet works, but I can't imagine what could go wrong. Maybe they get viruses like any other computer owner? Maybe they have problems with power? Maybe they just got lazy and forgot to turn it on? Or (and this is probably the most likely of the options I've had so far), maybe they were updating things and just forgot to let us all know?
Okay, so if you know anything about computers or how the internet works that I obviously don't know a thing about, then you probably think I'm pretty stupid. And you would be right, sort of. I mean, I could learn about computers and the internet and stuff, because that's what my dad does for a living, and I could just ask him, but I don't really have an interest in all that stuff. In fact, it took my dad and big bro forever to talk me into using the internet more, and even creating a blog (I know, right? Just think, if they hadn't annoyed the crud out of me to blog and stuff, you would never have been able to read any of my 70 some-odd blogs!). I was originally just going to use this computer as a glorified typewriter, so I could write in my novel, but then they talked me into it and I now very much love to blog. And, I can use my search engine to find out when new books are being released, and I can listen to music or watch a funny video on YouTube (although I only really do that if someone I know tells me about a funny video and asks me to check it out), and all sorts of research related stuff, too.
Okay, so any-ways...I just felt like griping about the internet going bye-bye yesterday...So now that I got all that out, I'll be signing off before I think of more things about the internet being gone to gripe about.
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.

Another year, another 365 days of Blogging capabilities...

2010-01-01T14:34:00.000-08:00

Today the year has rolled over, and no longer can we write "09" on our checks. Today we all write the same thing: "10". It's weird, isn't it? We have entered the double digit's of the 2000th year. We can no longer say "O" anything. Now it's all, "twenty ten" or just "ten". But can you say "O ten"? That doesn't really sound right...You might as well add one extra number and say "twenty ten". But then, when signing a legal document or something, it would be hard to fit "2010" in the tiny space they give you to write in, so you would just have to put a "10" instead. Am I confusing you?
Okay let's move on...
So since it's a new year and all, I got to thinking: What should my new year's resolution be? Well that's easy for me, really. My new year's resolution is to not only write whenever I have free time, but also to hold down a job (at Borders book store, preferably). That's an easy one, right? I mean, all I have to do is get a job, and go to work on time and work hard, then come home and write as much as my mind and schedule will allow.
Well, we'll see how that goes. I'm hoping that I won't have to cut down on blogging time, and especially my novel-writing time once I get a job. But I'll just have to take it one day at a time, right?
Anyway, I was just curious, what's your new year's resolution? If you have one, please leave a comment and tell me what it is. I'm a very curious person, so I would appreciate the cooperation. So just leave a comment and let me know, 'kay?
Here's hoping for another great year,
Miss Eccentric.
P.S. They should have Thanksgiving on New Year's day, because that's when you're feeling the most grateful for everything that's happened all-through the last year. Am I right, or am I right? Or, perhaps, am I right? Right? Tee hee!
Oh yeah, did you catch a glimpse of the moon last night? It may have looked just like every-other full moon, but last night for some reason the so-called Blue moon was even more beautiful.

Once in a blue moon

2009-12-29T18:00:00.000-08:00

Hey, sorry I haven't posted in a while, I've just been busy with my new short story on my other blog, and other things. Anyway, I just thought it was cool that for this new year, we have a Blue moon coming. On New Year's eve, we will have a Blue moon, which comes around once in a Blue moon (heh heh...). A Blue moon is when there is a Full moon twice in one month, according to the current definition of the phrase. Although from what I understand, a real Blue moon was defined as an extra Full moon in a season. Because season's have three Full moon's, I guess when there was a fourth, they named the third in that season a Blue moon. Blue moon's these days come around once every two or three years, and a Blue moon that occurs twice in a year comes around four to five times every one hundred years. The last Blue moon was in May 2007. I think this is all cool, but I'm a sucker for full moons and blue moons and whatnot.
Anyway, don't worry, I will be posting again this New year's eve, so...Okay that's all I got for now.
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.

Some gifts should never be gifts.

2009-12-25T19:26:00.000-08:00

Have you ever gotten a gift that is just plain not meant to be a gift? Ever? We all know what I'm talking about. Like the over-sized granny-panties you get from sweet old grandma, or the bottle of wine that you gave to so-and-so, when really he/she is an alcoholic. Well, here's some advice for people who happen to gift like that:

Grannies: Your grandchildren love you, but they do not want underwear for Christmas. Ever. Unless they specifically ask for it. Also, they do not want socks. So instead of those things, why don't you talk to your children and ask them what the grandchildren want. If you have no idea what they are talking about ("my daughter wants an Ipod touch". People, grandparents don't understand what an Ipod touch is), then give the kid some money. You don't have to go all out and give them a hundred dollars or even fifty, twenty bucks should suffice. Also, you might as well just stay away from buying any clothing at all, sense kids these days only wear what their friends think are "cool", and sorry to say but grannies don't know what kids think are "cool".

The single uncle (we all have one): Do not rummage around in your car at the last minute for an old sticky gift card for a church shop, which consists of five bucks (which at a church store can't buy anything, literally). Instead, you can either slip some money in their ("their" being niece/nephew) card (no less than ten bucks, don't be a cheapskate), or you could ask for a wish list, or merely ask the parents what they want. Do not try to be all "cool" and give them something that is inappropriate for their age, instead buy them a video game or something, which is rated E for Everyone. Do not buy them a game like Grand Theft Auto, which is completely inappropriate.

For anyone buying a gift for a child and/or teenager: When in doubt, ask them what they want. They will ramble on and on about all the cool stuff they want, and if you memorize a few, you may just find something that's not five hundred dollars at the electronics shop. Also, if they ask specifically for a certain model or color for whatever item they wanted, you better remember what they said, because they will freak if they don't get their hot pink DS Lite. If you don't have the patience to sit around trying to understand their teenage language, just give them money. You're always safe when you give them money, especially if you're not cheap about it.

For grown-ups buying gifts for other grown-ups: Gift baskets are great, but you better check what's in them, because if there's something they don't like or are allergic to or something in the basket, that would be a sucky gift. Stay away from gifting alcohol of any kind, unless you know for sure that they're not alcoholic. Don't buy anyone books, unless you know exactly which book the person wants. Because books are very personal, and they say a lot about people's personalities. Some people like the sugar-coated love stories, and some people (like me) like to read the dark stuff, the stuff that doesn't necessarily have a good ending. Some people like fiction, and some people like real-life stories. The point is, if you buy someone a book that you love, it doesn't mean that the person you give it to will love it too, you know? So just stay away from buying people books. Well, okay if it's a gag gift kind of book, or you just happen to know that they love that series and do not have that particular volume, then by all means go ahead.
But only if you know for sure what they want.

The best advice I can give for holiday gift-giving, is to just think about things that your friends or family like, and buy them something that relates to whatever it is they enjoy. And if you don't really know what they like, give them something nice, something homemade, something from your heart. They will love it even if they don't like it, if you know what I mean.
Also, to any family or friends who are reading this: You don't have to pay attention to this advice, anything any of you give me I love, and I wouldn't want you to change the gift giving styles that you already have. They work, and I have no complaints on anything I've gotten this Christmas.
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.
P.S. Uncle and Aunt: thanks for the gift card to my favorite place on earth (well, at least one of them)!
To Uncle and Aunt in the big damn bus of a home: Thanks and I love you both, and hope to see you soon!
To Mum: Thanks for everything, you always know what I like!
To Dad: Thank you very much, I love everything you and Mum got me!
To Big bro: Thanks you little stinker, hope you enjoy what I got you as much as I enjoy what you got me!
To Nana: Thank you for the moola, now I can take that and the gift card I got and go on a paperback and/or hardbound shopping spree! Mmmm...Nothing better than the smell of paper, glue, and ink mixed in one magic little (or big) package.
To best friend (Mr. Whiskers): Thanks for everything, hope to see you again soon! Although you still owe me, ha ha.
To best friends mom who's like a second mom to me: Love ya, and hope everything with you works out okay! Keep your spirits up, we all need to hear you laugh!
To grandparents: Thanks, and Happy Christmas!

Talking in his sleep

2009-12-23T01:04:00.000-08:00

I'm about to go to bed after a long day of holiday stuffa (not a real word, I know), and I just remembered something funny my big bro did the other night. I know I've talked about him talking in his sleep before, so this is nothing new, but what he said this time was particularly hilarious.
Now, it was like, three-thirty or four AM, and I was still in bed with my book light on reading (it's a good book, and I don't get a lot of time to read lately), and all of the sudden I hear my brother talking. So a look up from my book and listen real carefully to hear what he's saying, and this is what I hear:
"*grunt* Can I have... *silence* Um...um....um...another water? *pause* Please?"
And no, I am not exaggerating the amount of "um"s. In fact, I actually cut a few out, because I didn't want to sound annoying. And even though it is a very quiet house here at night, and I knew that I could easily wake him up, I nearly burst into laughter right then, which would have ruined it, really. Because then he'd wake up and I wouldn't get a chance to see if he was going to say anything more.
So anyway, what was really funny about this was that before he said goodnight to me he was complaining that he was thirsty and saying that he was going to fill up a water bottle (the new metal kind) so he had it by his bed if he wanted more. So when I overheard him talking in his sleep, I almost thought that he might be talking to me. Then I realized, "why would he be talking to me, if he said he was going to get water before he went to sleep?" so I just ignored him and waited to see if he was going to talk again. I figured that if he was trying to talk to me, then he would speak up again if I didn't respond. Well, a few seconds of silence and I got my answer: he started snoring, therefore he was indeed asleep. And not the soft snore that's just like he's breathing heavily, but the snort kind where you end up waking yourself up. Only he didn't wake up to my knowledge.
Okay, so my big brother talking in his sleep may not sound very amusing to you, but I thought it was hilarious. Of course, that could just be because I was delirious from sleep deprivation, but whatever.
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.
P.S. Have you ever had such a horrible nightmare that you wake in the middle of it to find that your heart is hammering and you can't move? That happened a few nights ago, and when I could move after a few seconds, I was all sluggish and stuff. It was awful. Do you ever get really bad nightmares like that? If so leave a comment, then maybe I won't feel like a weirdo with sleep paralysis or something.

Bah-humbug...

2009-12-22T02:50:00.000-08:00

I really don't like Christmas. I mean, don't get me wrong, I like getting presents and seeing the excitement when the people I love are opening presents from me, blah blah blah, and I love Jesus and am happy he was born, but really. He wasn't even born till March, anyway. Yeah, Jesus was born in March, not December. So why do we celebrate his birth December twenty-fifth each year? Because it was convenient for us. Okay, so that's probably not true, but whatever.
And if you think about it, all Christmas is about is stupid gifts like underwear that you did not ever want from your crazy grandma, annoying cousins you don't even know sending you letters bragging about their "sweet Molly who got her braces this year", or their "handsome Tommy who's on the chess team".
And yes (what a surprise), I also do not like the stupid end-of-year letters you get from family members who you can't even remember how they are related. All they do is brag about how cool their lives are compared to yours. Either that, or they brag about how their life sucks more than yours. But either way, they all suck. My personal favorite letter goes something like this, "Merry Christmas! Oh yeah, my husband died sometime in July. Hope you're doing well!"
Yeah, that's just what we want to hear at Christmas time. That your husband died month's ago and you are just now telling people. Also, thank you for making us go out and buy a condolence card at Hallmark during the busiest time of the year. We really appreciate the thought it took to make one little card ruin our Christmas.
I'm beginning to think that we should just celebrate Jesus' birth in March, and completely ignore Christmas day altogether.
But I have to say, to all the people I love (Mum, Dad, Bro, Nana, grandparents, uncle, uncle and aunt, uncle and aunt, best friend, best friends mom who's like second mom, Daisy, Bosco and Joey): I love you all lot's, and am happy that you are going to be here today to brighten up our Christmas. I think I might have gone mad if I hadn't known that you all would be here for us to enjoy the fruits of our labor.
Happy Christmas, Miss Eccentric.
P.S. Yes I know today is the twenty-second, but that's when company could make it, so don't judge. Also, to Best Friend: Sorry you couldn't make it...But ha ha you have some serious kissing-up to do for not coming. Muahahahahaha!

Gamefaqs suck!

2009-12-19T13:55:00.000-08:00

Okay, so I don't know if you've noticed, but when you use Gamefaqs to figure out how to do something in a game, you don't always get what you're looking for. For instance, when I was playing a Professor Layton game, and I couldn't figure out a certain puzzle, I went online and looked it up on Gamefaqs. Now, I know that Gamefaqs uses actual people who play the game to create the faqs, but come on. If you're going to post a faq about a game then you have to play the whole game, and you can't leave anything out of the faq. Because there were several puzzles in that game that were not in the faq, and once I saw that and found out that I would have to figure out the puzzle myself, it was super easy and I just can't see why it wouldn't be in the faq. I mean, really. If the person that made that faq couldn't figure out that puzzle, how smart could they really be? Not very, since I figured it out just fine, and it's not like I play game for a living, or even play games so much that I have the time to actually make awhole faq about said games. But whatever.
Anyway, I know this post is no fun whatsoever, but I just wanted to complain about Gamefaqs, 'cause they suck. So there.
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.

Good and bad ways to die

2009-12-17T14:25:00.000-08:00

Okay, so I promised myself I would blog more often than this just so I have a whole pot-load of blogs by the end of the year, but it's been like, three days since I blogged last. And I just can't have that. I need to blog at least every other day (we'll see if I can actually pull that off though, since we have lots of company coming on the twenty second, plus we have more coming on Christmas day).
So anyway, I was just thinking about death (aren't I cheery? I am so into the joy of Christmas), and I just thought it would be kind of funny to blog about different ways you can die. I mean, for instance, dying naked would be a bad way to die, since it's pretty embarrassing to die in the nude. On the other hand, a good way to die would be something heroic, like getting hit by a car after shoving a complete stranger out of the way of said car. So here's a few good and bad ways to die, just for sh*ts (so I have an aversion to cursing, what of it?) and giggles (at least the ones I can think of right now):

Death by drowning is a bad way to die, because have you ever held your breath for as long as you could? It is unbearably uncomfortable.

Death by pulling off an awesome stunt involving water-skies and a helicopter, on the other hand, is a good way to die.

Death by electrocution, is a bad way to die. Have you ever gotten shocked while cleaning a TV screen? Try multiplying that to the point where it's deadly. Not something you want to do.

Okay, so I can't think of any good way to die involving electricity, because really. If you got hit by lightning, you would fry and it would be gross, and even if you saved someone or something by sacrificing yourself, you would still be fried and gross.

Death by being buried alive, is a horrible way to die. Not only do you get to suffocate to death slowly as the oxygen is used up, you also have to deal with the small, dark loneliness of the box or coffin or whatever you're buried in.

If you where buried alive without anyone knowing, and you were asleep and didn't even know you were buried yourself though, that wouldn't be quite as bad. As long as you didn't wake up and realize you were buried in the ground and not dead (yet).

Working to death, really bad way to die. I mean, working really hard is not fun as it is, but working till you literally die? Not my cup of tea.

Dying at work though, not so bad, especially if it's a job that helps people, like being a cop or something. Plus, your family will get money from your work depending on what you did for a living.

Death by murder, not a good way to die. Dying at the hands of someone you knew and perhaps loved, even worse.

Being murdered in the place of someone else, as they get away, that's a good way. What better way to die than to die saving another's life?

And the worst way to die? Alone.

The best way? For someone you love. Doesn't matter how.

I'll have to consult my friends and family to come up with their favorite best and worst ways to die. If I ask my Dad, he'll give me several pages worth of ridiculously funny and awful ways to die, so look forward to that, I suppose.
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.
P.S. My Dad thinks electrocution is hilarious, so expect at least one of his good or bad ways to die to include electricity in some way.

This is the tale of the really long title, in which the title to the blog entitled "this is the tale of the really long title" is really quite long.

2009-12-14T22:20:00.000-08:00

Okay, so I can't fit the whole title I wanted in, but here's the rest:
This is the tale of the really long title, in which the title to the blog entitled "this is the tale of the really long title" is really quite long, and makes you think, "wow, the title to the blog entitled 'this is the tale of the really long title' is really quite long", then you marvel at the sheer longevity of the title to the blog entitled "this is the tale of the really long title" and say, "that title to the blog entitled 'this is the tale of the really long title' is really quite long. I'd like to read that, for it is impressive how long a title to a blog entitled 'this is the tale of the really long title' can really be." It's a paradox of words, is it not?
Man, it would have been really cool if I could have fit all that in the title area...Oh well.
Anyway, don't you hate it when people's blog titles get really long and drawn out? I mean really, you can sum-up what is in a blog with just one or two words, so why does there have to be more words in the title that there are in the blog? I mean, if you are talking about how long blog titles are, and you need a title for the blog about long titles, you can just put, "really long titles" instead of making up a huge title like, "This is the tale of the really long title, in which the title to the blog entitled "this is the tale of the really long title" is really quite long". Oops, I made up that title. Okay, so the truth is that I love really long titles, and I use them any chance I get.
Anyway, just having a bit of fun here. Sometimes I get a tick-up-my-butt (so to speak) and I just need to ramble out a bunch of nonsense. Makes me feel better to stretch my writing skills out like that. Keeps me sane (-ish).
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.

Righty-tighty, lefty-loosy.

2009-12-13T15:49:00.000-08:00

Alright, so not too long ago, I was blog-surfing and found a blog that had a post on it asking if you were right handed, or left, and I thought it was quite interesting. The subject, I mean. See, I'm one of those people who really pay attention to details like that. I look at peoples hands, and how they use them, and I look at peoples eyes before I really look at the rest of their face. And if you really pay attention to the small details like that, you can pretty much guess whether someone is right handed or left.
For instance, if you look at someone's hands, all you have to do is pay attention to the length of their nails to see which hand they use more. If their nails are long on the left side, they're most likely right handed, because their nails will be worn down slightly on the hand they use more. Or if you look at someone's handwriting, and their writing tilts slightly to the left, instead of the right like it's supposed to, they're most likely left handed. Or, if you see a callous (a rough spot or bump) on their middle finger (where a pen would rest when writing), then that's most likely the hand they use to write with.
I always thought that the hand a person uses more than the other says a lot about them, and it really is kind of useful to know. Which is why I have decided to do a poll on my blog asking if you're right handed, left handed, or ambidextrous. I'm ambidextrous, in case you were curious. Well, okay, I grew up mostly right handed, but a few years back I realized that I can do pretty much anything with my left hand as I could do with my right, including eating and writing. I find that very interesting, because my mom once told me that when I was little, I was left handed. I used my left hand to play and draw and stuff, not my right. But everyone in the family made such a big deal about me being left handed, that one day I just switched hands, and used my right hand ever since.
Just a few years ago (maybe three, if that), I was goofing off and decided to try and write with my left hand, instead of my right. At first it was kind of messy, because I wasn't quite sure how to hold my hand considering that I had only used my right hand all those years, but after a little practice, I got better. I'm still not quite as good with my left hand as I am with my right, but if I just slow down and not try to write as fast with my left as I do with my right, you can barely tell the difference from the two. Here's an example:
The top is obviously with my left hand, and the bottom is with my right. You can't really see much of a difference, except that the top one (the one with my left hand) is slightly bubblier (that does not sound like I word, ha ha), and by the thickness of the pen you could tell that I went slower when writing with my left hand, but other than that, they're pretty much the same.
Anyway, I'm curious to hear how many of you are right handed, and how many of you are left handed. Or even how many (if any) of you are ambidextrous. I can't see you, so I can't really use my methods to guess, but I am curious to know. So go ahead and vote at the bottom of my blog, where the poll is held. If you feel like it, of course.
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.
P.S. Sorry if this post came off as slightly scatter-brained, but that's because I am slightly scatter-brained. ADD, you know. Please vote!!!

Zelda!

2009-12-11T13:52:00.000-08:00

Zelda alert, Zelda alert! Alright, so I wanted to do this blog on the eighth, but I got too busy so I'll just do it today instead.
Okay, so on the eighth, a new Zelda game came out for the DS called, "The legend of Zelda, Spirit Tracks". I, of course, had it on reserve, so I just went and picked it up. I have been playing it every chance I get since then, and I must say: it, is, awesome! Okay, so not everyone likes Zelda games, but I on the other hand, am a huge Zelda fan, and love playing the games. Not to brag or anything, but I'm also very good at playing the games. I mean, I beat the Twilight Princess game for the Wii all by my self (okay, so my Mum was there a lot of the time while I played, but still), and I didn't miss anything. I also beat the Zelda game for the gameboy advance (The legend of Zelda, the Minish Cap) like, ten times or something like that, and also the last game for the DS, The legend of Zelda, Phantom Hourglass.
...And I loved every one of them (what? I happen to love puzzle games, and Zelda is good for that)...
I also happen to have a really cool Zelda hat, Zelda wallet, and Zelda belt buckle. And no, that does not make me a total nerd (or does it?).
So anyway, when I finish it (hopefully soon, but with Christmas coming my allotted free-time is considerably shorter) I will be sure to put a small announcement saying that I did indeed finish the game. Okay, so that's it. Just wanted to vent some of my excitement at getting a new Zelda game.
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.
P.S. Did I happen to mention that so far the new game is totally awesome? No? Okay, the new game is totally awesome!!!

Tribute to Glen Eugene Eudaly

2009-12-10T23:59:00.000-08:00

This is in remembrance of my great-grandfather Glen Eudaly, who died December 10th 2005. We miss you Popa, and hope you are proud of what we have all made of our lives so far.

-M.E.

No, I don't REALLY want a ball in my eye. Thank you.

2009-12-05T19:19:00.000-08:00

Okay, so in the past (like, July this year) I made a post entitled, "Are you TRYING to poke my eye out?" (here's a link, so you can read it if you like), and it was all about a mascara that vibrates. This blog here that you are reading now, should be dubbed, "about mascara, again". Only this time, the mascara stick doesn't vibrate. No, it's just a ball this time, not nearly as menacing as a stick that vibrates near your eye. Or is it? I mean, just think about it: You are about to put a spherical object with tiny little brush-like tines, near your eye. Don't you think that the end result to this particular situation would be to, oh, I don't know...poke your eye with the ball trying to get all the eyelashes in one go, perhaps? Okay, so maybe I'm the only one who thinks that putting a ball-shaped mascara stick thingy (yes, thingy is not a word, but whatever) near your eye is a bad idea, but you have to admit, that is yet another ridiculous idea from the make-up companies. How do they come up with crap like that, anyway? I mean, don't you think that just a regular mascara stick works just fine? It doesn't miss any eyelashes when using it, and if it does, you can just move it over to the spot you missed and get it, am I right? But a ball wouldn't really do much good, now would it? It would only get a little bit of your eyelashes at a time, and therefore make you work harder and longer just to get all of your lashes coated in mascara. Am I right, or am I hallucinating? Because what if they had come out with a secret mascara that works like a hallucinogen, and makes you see things like, giant eyelashes or something, so you think your eyelashes are really long? They would probably do that, too. They would make a mascara that makes you think your eyelashes are really big, but really they're just the same as they were before. And what if I used it without knowing? What if everything I'm doing now is just a hallucination brought on by an allergic reaction to the mascara that I don't even remember using? What if what I'm typing now is merely a jumbled mess of letters, with no start or finish? What if what I just typed about the "no start or finish" does not make any sense at all? Or, what if what I'm typing now is merely a jumbled mess of letters, with no start or finish? What if I'm repeating myself over and over, and none of what I'm typing makes any sense? No, that's impossible. I'm not repeating myself. No, that's impossible.
Anyway, I for one, think that the new mascara's that the make-up companies are coming up with, are all ridiculous, and they should just stop before they create something really crazy, like a mascara that makes you think your eyelashes are really big, but really they're just the same as they were before. Wow, Déjà vu. Have I ever said anything like that before? Nah, probably not.
Blog ya later, Miss Eccentric.