- Apparently.
- So this post is in semi-list form.
- No numbers, just kind of a list.
- Maybe I should put bullet points...(that would be too much work)
- I mentioned yesterday that my head has too much thoughts in it?
- Yeah
- (let it be noted that at this time I finally decided to add bullet points)
- Can you SEE the bullet points?
- .....anyway, well, I keep trying to write two POVs, but I get distracted.
- very easily.
- and I wish I had my card deck...
- I did learn a cardistry cut yesterday. It's very pretty. :)
- Fun stuff.
- Have I mentioned that our twitter feed comes up on the blog?
- Yeah, it's there, on the left of the posts.
- beneath the followers...
- I told Melissa she should read the blog today.
- DO YOU KNOW WHAT HER FIRST REACTION WAS?
- she asked me "has it been updated?"
- YES.
- IT HAS.
- MELISSA.
- I DID IT LAST NIGHT.
- GRRR
- so I'm updating it now, just to prove that I can blog two days in a row.
Showing posts with label P. Meggy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label P. Meggy. Show all posts
September 14, 2011
P. Meggy can't think
September 13, 2011
SHIFT: Prologue
Ross
Orange is just not my color.
Surprisingly, that’s just about all I could think of as I stared at my reflection in the prison issued mirror. That’s another thing about prison, everything is orderly, neat, and systematic. I should love it here. I ran a hand through my hair, wishing they’d have let me keep my comb. They wouldn’t even let me keep my comb, let alone my shoes. Sure, the prison issued pair looked a bit like Vans, but I do love my Chuck Taylor’s.
I sighed. All this wasn’t what I was thinking about, I hardly even cared that much. I was simply trying to distract myself. It was normally Cassidy’s job, and she would probably say about now, “You sound like such a girl! C’mon, man up, Rossie!” One of the many things you had to love about Cassidy.
Cassidy.
No, I wasn’t thinking about how much I hate orange. Which is true, I really do hate orange. It’s such a revolting color. But I wasn’t thinking about that. I was remembering how my own stupidity and cockiness had nearly gotten Cassidy in prison as well. It was just one slip of the tongue. No, I’ll be truthful, for once. I meant to say it, but I really didn’t think they’d be smart enough to catch the hint. My plans were fool-proof, they never went wrong.
My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of an officer’s shoes making those annoying clicking noises against the floor. I thought it was just another patrolling guard, so I chose to ignore it. That is, until the clicking stopped outside the bars of my cell.
“Mr. Tate, you have a visitor.”
A visitor? Who? Cassidy?
“Who is it?” I asked, looking over my reflection once more. This would annoy the guard, and I almost smiled. I didn’t like him very much. He was a little on the chubby side, though I’m sure he could take me in a fair fight. But, a fair fight is fictional, and I definitely wouldn’t fight one. He had this odd handlebar mustache that only made his face look fatter, and his breath smelt absolutely horrid. Yes, annoying this guard was pleasurable, and if I was stuck in this place for who knows how long, I had to find enjoyment somewhere.
“A rich-looking man in a business suit.” The guard jerked the back of the orange prison jumpsuit, and I stood. “Is he an...associate of yours?”
“A rich-looking man?” I echoed, momentarily bewildered. Of course it wasn’t Cassidy, she wouldn’t be stupid enough to come visit me so soon. But if it wasn’t her, then who was it? I hoped he didn’t have prison tattoos, because I was a dead man. I thought the mobsters had lost my trail long ago, but I could have very easily been mistaken.... “Maybe he’s my lawyer. How do you come by the assumption that he’s rich, Sherlock?”
“His suit’s Italian.”
“Is it?”
“Yes. It is.” The guard said, and the sense of finality hung in the air. So, I walked alongside him in silence, because he was certainly not going to keep the conversation going. Maybe he realized I was taunting him. Maybe. Probably not.
I sat down at one of the long tables very much like a picnic table that reminded me far too much of high school. Of course, I didn’t attend school for much longer after entering my freshman year, but still, I hated it. The guard nodded for me to wait, and I nodded in acknowledgement, though it wasn’t like I had much choice, with the cuffs and all.
After many agonizing minutes of wondering how many ways someone could kill me and not leave any forensic evidence, a man in a finely tailored, very Italian dark blue business suit arrived carrying a briefcase. He stuck a hand inside his jacket and pulled out a business card, which he slid to me across the table as he sat down. It was plain white, with black script in the center of the card that read THE ORGANIZATION.
“I take it you’re not my lawyer.”
“No, Mr. Tate. I’m not.”
“Well, let’s get the point. Isn’t that the way with you all?” I asked, waving the white card in the air. “Straightforward. Short, sweet, and to the point?”
The man chose to ignore my comment, and opened his case. Out of habit, I noticed that the latch had some sort of code that had to be put in order before it opened. The Organization Man pulled out some photos, all of either me or Cassidy, in Florida, in Nevada, in California, even that time in Paris. All different cons, all with different objectives and plans. I wasn’t surprised. The Organization liked to keep an eye on their ‘members.’ It wasn’t unlikely that they ‘checked up’ on you once in a while. I took one of the pictures of Cassidy and began folding it into a flower.
“In only the past year,” the man began, “you have been associated with some stolen painting, some lost money, and some shady business deals. It just seems that trouble seems to follow after you wherever you go. Luckily, you just happen to be long gone when everything is figured out.”
I smiled. Of course. That’s how my plans worked, and no one had charged me yet. Well, besides that past incident. “I was never accused with any of that, nor can it be proven. So, in theory, I had nothing to do with it.”
“The Organization isn’t stupid, Mr. Tate.” The man said, his voice hardening momentarily. It was his turn to smile. “And if our information were to get out...”
“Are you planning to blackmail me?” I asked, concentrated on the folding of the flower in my hands, and twirled it around, admiring the art of it.
“Of course not, Mr. Tate, we are just offering you a choice.” He pulled out a file and another photo from his briefcase, and set them on the table before me. “This is Jade Vann, a Shifter like you and I, but she is unaware of her talent. She is yet to have Shifted, but we believe it will happen soon. Jade,” He said, tapping the picture. “is in need of an apprenticeship. Everything you need to know about her is right in this file.
You are facing a terrible charge against you, Mr. Tate. You could be facing a lifetime prison sentence. It is all very...up in the air right now, but...” He let the words hang there, as if he were just daring me to finish his sentence for him. “If you were to take advantage of our offer, of course, we will make all of this disappear. It will be gone in the blink of an eye, like one of your little magic tricks.”
I ignored the slight against my cons, and stared at the girl in the photograph. She had a black hood pulled up over her head, and she was looking at her feet, so I couldn’t much make out her face. Earbuds traveled up and disappeared behind a curtain of black brown hair. I couldn’t see her expression in this photograph, but her shoulders were hunched forward, and she slouched; everything about her generally screamed miserable.
“So, Mr. Tate, what’ll it be? You have an opportunity to stay out of prison. Now you must decide if you will take it or not.”
I took the picture and began to fold it, also, into a different shape. I didn’t answer him immediately, just nodded in acknowledgement. I continued to fold as I looked at the pictures of Cassidy and myself and then to the folder which I knew held every detail about Jade Vann’s life in it.
“I need an answer, Mr. Tate.”
I sighed, and set the newly folded origami on the table next to the flower. It was no longer a picture of the girl, Jade Vann. It had changed into something different, into a crane.
“Well.” I said. “I’m certainly not going to go to prison.”
Tuesday Twenty!! (Another one?!?)
1. Yeah, it's a sad day because I never post on time.
2. But this time, it's not only me, Cat didn't, either. :)
3. I guess I'm not supposed to be pleased with myself over that...
4. .......but I finally beat the school rules that kept me from blogging at school.
5. Which may not be a good thing either.
6. I can still blog, you see, I just can't READ it...
7. It means I may do more things on time, you know. :P
8. I'm making NO PROMISES.
9. Because I have too many things in my head.
10. (That's what I have decided, there's too many things in my head for me to actually do them...so they float around and entertain me when I'm bored)
11. For instance, I was listening to Adele the other day, and I thought "Hmmm...I bet I could do a very dramatic, very epic, songfic for 'Set Fire to the Rain.'"
12. I did, actually, think of a very good one. I just have yet to write it down...(I guess that may be due to another of my strange organization habits)
13. The same thing happened to me this morning, while listening to Cartel. "If I Fail" and "Perfect Mistake"
14. I should add that to my list of things to write down sometime...
15. You should get excited for the posting of SHIFT
16. Did you enjoy the sneakity peekity?
17. I'm glad. I did, too. (Well, I wrote it :P)
18. I am also preoccupied by Chemistry homework (as I am no longer at school..) and the thought of learning cardistry....
19. It's great stuff. Not necessarily card TRICKS, you know, just flourishes. Fun things you can do. It involves a lot of flicking cards around and making it look cool. (YouTube it)
20. Yeah, it's kind of Rossicistic
~P. Megz OUT!!!
2. But this time, it's not only me, Cat didn't, either. :)
3. I guess I'm not supposed to be pleased with myself over that...
4. .......but I finally beat the school rules that kept me from blogging at school.
5. Which may not be a good thing either.
6. I can still blog, you see, I just can't READ it...
7. It means I may do more things on time, you know. :P
8. I'm making NO PROMISES.
9. Because I have too many things in my head.
10. (That's what I have decided, there's too many things in my head for me to actually do them...so they float around and entertain me when I'm bored)
11. For instance, I was listening to Adele the other day, and I thought "Hmmm...I bet I could do a very dramatic, very epic, songfic for 'Set Fire to the Rain.'"
12. I did, actually, think of a very good one. I just have yet to write it down...(I guess that may be due to another of my strange organization habits)
13. The same thing happened to me this morning, while listening to Cartel. "If I Fail" and "Perfect Mistake"
14. I should add that to my list of things to write down sometime...
15. You should get excited for the posting of SHIFT
16. Did you enjoy the sneakity peekity?
17. I'm glad. I did, too. (Well, I wrote it :P)
18. I am also preoccupied by Chemistry homework (as I am no longer at school..) and the thought of learning cardistry....
19. It's great stuff. Not necessarily card TRICKS, you know, just flourishes. Fun things you can do. It involves a lot of flicking cards around and making it look cool. (YouTube it)
20. Yeah, it's kind of Rossicistic
~P. Megz OUT!!!
September 8, 2011
nifty and snazzy sneakity peekity (v. 2.0) "SHIFT"
Ross
Orange is just not my color.
Surprisingly, that’s just about all I could think of as I stared at my reflection in the prison issued mirror. That’s another thing about prison, everything is orderly, neat, and systematic. I should love it here. I ran a hand through my hair, wishing they’d have let me keep my comb. They wouldn’t even let me keep my comb, let alone my shoes. Sure, the prison issued pair looked a bit like Vans, but I do love my Chuck Taylor’s.
I sighed. All this wasn’t what I was thinking about, I hardly even cared that much. I was simply trying to distract myself. This was normally Cassidy’s job, and she would probably say about now, “You sound like such a girl! C’mon, man up, Rossie!” One of the many things you had to love about Cassidy.
Cassidy.
No, I wasn’t thinking about how much I hate orange. Which is true, I really do hate orange. It’s such a revolting color. But I wasn’t thinking about that. I was remembering how my own stupidity and cockiness had nearly gotten Cassidy in prison as well. It was just one slip of the tongue. No, I’ll be truthful, for once. I meant to say it, but I really didn’t think they’d be smart enough to catch the hint. My plans were fool-proof, they never went wrong.
My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of an officer’s shoes making those annoying clicking noises against the floor. I thought it was just another patrolling guard, so I chose to ignore it. That is, until the clicking stopped outside the bars of my cell.
“Mr. Tate, you have a visitor.”
A visitor? Who? Cassidy?
“Who is it?” I asked, looking over my reflection once more. This would annoy the guard, and I almost smiled. I didn’t like him very much. He was a little on the chubby side, though I’m sure he could take me in a fair fight. But, a fair fight is fictional, and I definitely wouldn’t fight one. He had this odd handlebar mustache that only made his face look fatter, and his breath smelt absolutely horrid. Yes, annoying this guard was pleasurable, and if I was stuck in this place for who knows how long, I had to find enjoyment somewhere.
“A rich-looking man in a business suit.” The guard jerked the back of the orange prison jumpsuit, and I stood. “Is he an...associate of yours?”
“A rich-looking man?” I echoed, momentarily bewildered. Of course it wasn’t Cassidy, she wouldn’t be stupid enough to come visit me so soon. But if it wasn’t her, then who was it? I hoped he didn’t have prison tattoos, because I was a dead man. I thought the mobsters had lost my trail long ago, but I could have very easily been mistaken.... “Maybe he’s my lawyer. How do you come by the assumption that he’s rich, Sherlock?”
“His suit’s Italian.”
“Is it?”
“Yes. It is.” The guard said, and the sense of finality hung in the air. So, I walked alongside him in silence, because he was certainly not going to keep the conversation going. Maybe he realized I was taunting him. Maybe. Probably not.
September 4, 2011
Sunday Seventeen...wow...
1. So last week I was going to blog about how when you're sick on the day a challenge is due you should get another week to do it.
2. And guess what stopped me? I was sick. Again.
3. That challenge is yet to be completed...
4. Not that I haven't tried. Writing in two separate POV's is difficult to organize
5. And I was distracted by "Punk Goes Classic Rock" and many covers of Bohemian Rhapsody...(the original version by Queen, too, of course)
6. Is there a way to have the PlotBunnyTwin's twitter show up on here? Just curious...
7. I think it's possible...
8. On another note, Cat and I have a plan, that I think will appease you until I actually learn to post on time.
9. Remember last November?
10. Last year, Cat and I participated in National Novel Writing Month together, and though we didn't finish, we had loads of fun. :D
11. Oh, wait, CAT COOPER, I CHALLENGE YOU to write a songfic for BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY
12. It's a song that just sounds like it has a story to go with it. Even if it is kinda depressing...And, helpful hint, Don't try googling what the lyrics mean. It's REALLY depressing.
13. We now return to our lovely surprise plan...
14. We're going to be posting Shift (our NaNoWriMo novel) on the blog! Starting with my prologue!
15. (Btw, it's written in two POV's...can that count? Probably not...Cat and I had separate characters and their POV's. Mine being Ross and Cat's was Jade...you'll find out about them)
16. And occasionally having Shift-related challenges!
17. Aren't you EXCITED? I am. Cat is. It's just an exciting thing!
~P. Megz OUT!!!
2. And guess what stopped me? I was sick. Again.
3. That challenge is yet to be completed...
4. Not that I haven't tried. Writing in two separate POV's is difficult to organize
5. And I was distracted by "Punk Goes Classic Rock" and many covers of Bohemian Rhapsody...(the original version by Queen, too, of course)
6. Is there a way to have the PlotBunnyTwin's twitter show up on here? Just curious...
7. I think it's possible...
8. On another note, Cat and I have a plan, that I think will appease you until I actually learn to post on time.
9. Remember last November?
10. Last year, Cat and I participated in National Novel Writing Month together, and though we didn't finish, we had loads of fun. :D
11. Oh, wait, CAT COOPER, I CHALLENGE YOU to write a songfic for BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY
12. It's a song that just sounds like it has a story to go with it. Even if it is kinda depressing...And, helpful hint, Don't try googling what the lyrics mean. It's REALLY depressing.
13. We now return to our lovely surprise plan...
14. We're going to be posting Shift (our NaNoWriMo novel) on the blog! Starting with my prologue!
15. (Btw, it's written in two POV's...can that count? Probably not...Cat and I had separate characters and their POV's. Mine being Ross and Cat's was Jade...you'll find out about them)
16. And occasionally having Shift-related challenges!
17. Aren't you EXCITED? I am. Cat is. It's just an exciting thing!
~P. Megz OUT!!!
August 12, 2011
HOLDUPWAITAMINUTEPUTALITTLELOVEINIT
1. My brain is so busted that I don't really know if I have fifteen different things to say.
2. Apparently, according to the FNI, there's one.
3. The FNI's apple is fat.
4. Just thought I would let the world know.
5. Can't kick the habit...I've got to have it...'cause I'm a love addict, love addict
6. That's a fun song.
7. So is...SHAKIN' LIkE AN EARTHQUAKE (It's family force six. Typo intentional)
8. erg
9. I love SHANE AND ETHAN. They're bromance is adorable. It's great stuff.
10. I never have continuing characters...maybe I should do that sometime.
12. "POOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP" and "FINGER SLAYER! MAHAHAHA!" quotes from Sarah, the FNI
13. For those of you who don't know, Finger Slayer is a game on an iPhone where you have to move your finger before the guillotine/saw falls onto it.
14. It looks all happy and stuff, but it's really violent. It's also kind of scary listening to the music. And when your finger gets cut off it screams.
15. Well, the FNI just decided she doesn't like that game and wants to play Veggie Samurai instead. And I've just run out of bullet points.
~P. Megz OUT!!!
2. Apparently, according to the FNI, there's one.
3. The FNI's apple is fat.
4. Just thought I would let the world know.
5. Can't kick the habit...I've got to have it...'cause I'm a love addict, love addict
6. That's a fun song.
7. So is...SHAKIN' LIkE AN EARTHQUAKE (It's family force six. Typo intentional)
8. erg
9. I love SHANE AND ETHAN. They're bromance is adorable. It's great stuff.
10. I never have continuing characters...maybe I should do that sometime.
12. "POOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP" and "FINGER SLAYER! MAHAHAHA!" quotes from Sarah, the FNI
13. For those of you who don't know, Finger Slayer is a game on an iPhone where you have to move your finger before the guillotine/saw falls onto it.
14. It looks all happy and stuff, but it's really violent. It's also kind of scary listening to the music. And when your finger gets cut off it screams.
15. Well, the FNI just decided she doesn't like that game and wants to play Veggie Samurai instead. And I've just run out of bullet points.
~P. Megz OUT!!!
August 7, 2011
CREATIVE BURSTS OF CREATIVITY
It's what happens to me.
CREATIVE BURSTS OF CREATIVITY always come in groups. I get creative in something (ex. writing/short stories/challenges) and then it's like I can be creative in any aspect of thing. (ex. art/blogging/sometimes even poetry) Then the burst of creativity will decide it doesn't want me anymore, or I've simply done nothing with my thoughts and ideas, or I'm so stressed out I can't even begin to think about being creative, (this is definitely a run on sentence, by the way.) and then the creative burst will leave.
Why does this happen?
Because I don't keep doing things that cause me to need to be creative.
Oh yeah, that's right, that's why this blog is here. To give me and Cat distraction from other things. From other projects. To entertain the internets with stuff that doesn't suck. To be creative. To CHALLENGE us.
Ah, speaking of which, I just remembered I have a challenge for CAT!!!
But back on the original topic, (and I will deny I ever said this if and when it happens again) when Cat gives me a challenge I don't like, or don't want to do, it's really silly of me to not do it.
It's the whole point.
All I can think is..
DUH.
It's the word we use.
CHALLENGE.
We say that for a reason.
DUH.
Then it all goes full circle and the thought process repeats. That's what I've realized as I go back (with a creative burst of creativity, of course) and do challenges I either forgot about, skipped, or just got too busy to do.
Of course, I have no excuse for being too busy. Often I just won't ever feel like spending my few precious moments of free time writing.
It's sad, I know, and I am ashamed to actually say it on the blog. But it's the honest truth...
On a happier (and much more random) note,
Remember Melissa? One of the guest writers?
Yeah, she's a whovian, now. That was entirely my doing. :) (well, there was some help from the FNI, but you get what I mean)
Here I was thinking that if I couldn't get CAT to watch Doctor Who, I would never be able to get anyone to watch it with me.
Well, I was wrong.
And Cat's just not cool enough to watch a show the fun way. Out of order. :P Hahahaha...
But she's too busy with BONES and junk.
Well, maybe she can find sometime in her busy schedule of watching Bones instead of Doctor Who, to do this challenge.
What challenge, you ask?
I CHALLENGE YOU, CAT COOPER, to do what I have done. To go back, and do at least one challenge you have skipped.
Deja vu, you say? Yes, I have asked this of Cat before. Has it ever been accomplished? Not yet.
Maybe this time it will.
~P. Megz OUT!!!
CREATIVE BURSTS OF CREATIVITY always come in groups. I get creative in something (ex. writing/short stories/challenges) and then it's like I can be creative in any aspect of thing. (ex. art/blogging/sometimes even poetry) Then the burst of creativity will decide it doesn't want me anymore, or I've simply done nothing with my thoughts and ideas, or I'm so stressed out I can't even begin to think about being creative, (this is definitely a run on sentence, by the way.) and then the creative burst will leave.
Why does this happen?
Because I don't keep doing things that cause me to need to be creative.
Oh yeah, that's right, that's why this blog is here. To give me and Cat distraction from other things. From other projects. To entertain the internets with stuff that doesn't suck. To be creative. To CHALLENGE us.
Ah, speaking of which, I just remembered I have a challenge for CAT!!!
But back on the original topic, (and I will deny I ever said this if and when it happens again) when Cat gives me a challenge I don't like, or don't want to do, it's really silly of me to not do it.
It's the whole point.
All I can think is..
DUH.
It's the word we use.
CHALLENGE.
We say that for a reason.
DUH.
Then it all goes full circle and the thought process repeats. That's what I've realized as I go back (with a creative burst of creativity, of course) and do challenges I either forgot about, skipped, or just got too busy to do.
Of course, I have no excuse for being too busy. Often I just won't ever feel like spending my few precious moments of free time writing.
It's sad, I know, and I am ashamed to actually say it on the blog. But it's the honest truth...
On a happier (and much more random) note,
Remember Melissa? One of the guest writers?
Yeah, she's a whovian, now. That was entirely my doing. :) (well, there was some help from the FNI, but you get what I mean)
Here I was thinking that if I couldn't get CAT to watch Doctor Who, I would never be able to get anyone to watch it with me.
Well, I was wrong.
And Cat's just not cool enough to watch a show the fun way. Out of order. :P Hahahaha...
But she's too busy with BONES and junk.
Well, maybe she can find sometime in her busy schedule of watching Bones instead of Doctor Who, to do this challenge.
What challenge, you ask?
I CHALLENGE YOU, CAT COOPER, to do what I have done. To go back, and do at least one challenge you have skipped.
Deja vu, you say? Yes, I have asked this of Cat before. Has it ever been accomplished? Not yet.
Maybe this time it will.
~P. Megz OUT!!!
August 6, 2011
Storytime with P. Meggy "The Witch's Heart"
Firstly, I would like to point out that I do not, in fact, turn into a dragon. That would be ridiculously gross.
I know what you’re thinking, “but aren’t dragons just so cool? They breathe fire! Why would anyone not want to be a dragon?”
Oh, yes, they breathe fire, but just how many dragons have you met, exactly? Not many, I suspect. If you had met a dragon, you would know that they smell absolutely horrid, and they’re always talking in cryptic riddles. It’s extremely annoying trying to decide if “the waters will return to the empty riverbeds” means “there’s going to be drought” or “I’m thirsty.”
Secondly, I’m not evil. Witches are always made to look bad and evil.
I have a heart, at least. I’m just as human as any of you, if you don’t count magic powers. So, I’m not that evil, anyway.
No, no, I take that back, I have been extremely evil sometimes. But there was that one time, with Snow-whatever-her-name-was; it wasn’t my fault that time. I told her not to drink all the apple cider. I warned her that I saw someone spike it. But, no, she wouldn’t listen, and then she went and told her seven midgets that it was all my fault.
But that’s beside the point.
I know you’ve heard the story, the one about the little baby who is cursed by an evil witch, so on her sixteenth birthday she would prick her finger, blah, blah, blah.
This time, oh yes, I was evil. But I was also in love. Love makes me just as human as any of you. Love was my undoing.
Originally, she was supposed to die when she pricked her finger. It was all because of my stupid sister that changed it where she would only fall asleep. And yes, I admit it, cursing someone to die just because they poked their finger was probably a little bit rash, but my dearest sister doesn’t have to ruin all my plans.
Sorry. Anyway, my sister couldn’t completely reverse my curse; nope, I’m too good for that. But she made it where the girl wouldn’t die, but would be taking an eternally long beauty nap.
Only to be saved by true love’s kiss.
A ridiculous alternative to death, in my opinion. You might as well die if you're planning to sleep forever. They call death 'sleep' sometimes for a reason.
My solution was simple; I could not let her true love find her. When she fell asleep, I tricked the prince into my castle. I would keep him there forever.
I suppose it wasn’t the most foolproof plan.
I honestly thought that the prince would fall in love with me. I should have known no one loves the witches. No one even likes the witches! They like fairies and princesses and happy endings where the the witch is evil and she never gets what she wants. But, oh, I tried. I had loved him from afar all my life, why shouldn’t he love me instead of her? I cared for him, gave him anything in the world he wanted. Where was she? Oh yes, that's right, she was sleeping.
With magic, you would suspect I would be able to do anything. I tried everything to make him love me. I changed my appearance, my voice, and I even tried to change my personality. Only a little bit. Nothing mattered, the stupid boy just kept on and on about the girl he met in the woods. Even if I had changed myself into a completely different person, I'd end up being a silly girl with a flower and a broken heart.
Of course I realized that he didn’t know who the princess was. He couldn’t ever find her, I thought, even if I let him go. But I wouldn’t even take that chance. He simply had to love me.
Why wouldn’t he?
I thought about letting him go. There’s that silly old saying about if you really love something, you have to let it go. And if it loves you, it’ll come back. I couldn’t do it, though. I was terrified that if I let him leave, there would be no chance that he would return.
I thought I loved him.
Eventually, it came to the point where it pained me just to look at him. Do you know what it’s like to look at someone, to love them, and know that they love someone else?
I doubt you do. You wouldn’t understand. You still think I’m the evil pimply green witch who turns into a dragon.
At first, I kept him in my castle because of love. Then it was out of spite. Finally, it was just nothing. No feelings, just emptiness. Hate would be the next step.
I hated the prince, the princess, my sisters, and the world. Dragons? Hate them. Cauldrons? Hate them. Rainbows and daisies? I hate them, too.
If I hated him so much, I wondered, why did I still cry at night when I knew he loved her?
Eventually, I had to let him go. It all hurt too much. He was nothing to me anymore. It was becoming unhealthy. But as for finding the sleeping princess, I made it as difficult for him as possible.
To love her rather than me, he would have to work for it. He would pay dearly for making that mistake.
Even if it means I need to turn into a stinking purple dragon.
I know what you’re thinking, “but aren’t dragons just so cool? They breathe fire! Why would anyone not want to be a dragon?”
Oh, yes, they breathe fire, but just how many dragons have you met, exactly? Not many, I suspect. If you had met a dragon, you would know that they smell absolutely horrid, and they’re always talking in cryptic riddles. It’s extremely annoying trying to decide if “the waters will return to the empty riverbeds” means “there’s going to be drought” or “I’m thirsty.”
Secondly, I’m not evil. Witches are always made to look bad and evil.
I have a heart, at least. I’m just as human as any of you, if you don’t count magic powers. So, I’m not that evil, anyway.
No, no, I take that back, I have been extremely evil sometimes. But there was that one time, with Snow-whatever-her-name-was; it wasn’t my fault that time. I told her not to drink all the apple cider. I warned her that I saw someone spike it. But, no, she wouldn’t listen, and then she went and told her seven midgets that it was all my fault.
But that’s beside the point.
I know you’ve heard the story, the one about the little baby who is cursed by an evil witch, so on her sixteenth birthday she would prick her finger, blah, blah, blah.
This time, oh yes, I was evil. But I was also in love. Love makes me just as human as any of you. Love was my undoing.
Originally, she was supposed to die when she pricked her finger. It was all because of my stupid sister that changed it where she would only fall asleep. And yes, I admit it, cursing someone to die just because they poked their finger was probably a little bit rash, but my dearest sister doesn’t have to ruin all my plans.
Sorry. Anyway, my sister couldn’t completely reverse my curse; nope, I’m too good for that. But she made it where the girl wouldn’t die, but would be taking an eternally long beauty nap.
Only to be saved by true love’s kiss.
A ridiculous alternative to death, in my opinion. You might as well die if you're planning to sleep forever. They call death 'sleep' sometimes for a reason.
My solution was simple; I could not let her true love find her. When she fell asleep, I tricked the prince into my castle. I would keep him there forever.
I suppose it wasn’t the most foolproof plan.
I honestly thought that the prince would fall in love with me. I should have known no one loves the witches. No one even likes the witches! They like fairies and princesses and happy endings where the the witch is evil and she never gets what she wants. But, oh, I tried. I had loved him from afar all my life, why shouldn’t he love me instead of her? I cared for him, gave him anything in the world he wanted. Where was she? Oh yes, that's right, she was sleeping.
With magic, you would suspect I would be able to do anything. I tried everything to make him love me. I changed my appearance, my voice, and I even tried to change my personality. Only a little bit. Nothing mattered, the stupid boy just kept on and on about the girl he met in the woods. Even if I had changed myself into a completely different person, I'd end up being a silly girl with a flower and a broken heart.
Of course I realized that he didn’t know who the princess was. He couldn’t ever find her, I thought, even if I let him go. But I wouldn’t even take that chance. He simply had to love me.
Why wouldn’t he?
I thought about letting him go. There’s that silly old saying about if you really love something, you have to let it go. And if it loves you, it’ll come back. I couldn’t do it, though. I was terrified that if I let him leave, there would be no chance that he would return.
I thought I loved him.
Eventually, it came to the point where it pained me just to look at him. Do you know what it’s like to look at someone, to love them, and know that they love someone else?
I doubt you do. You wouldn’t understand. You still think I’m the evil pimply green witch who turns into a dragon.
At first, I kept him in my castle because of love. Then it was out of spite. Finally, it was just nothing. No feelings, just emptiness. Hate would be the next step.
I hated the prince, the princess, my sisters, and the world. Dragons? Hate them. Cauldrons? Hate them. Rainbows and daisies? I hate them, too.
If I hated him so much, I wondered, why did I still cry at night when I knew he loved her?
Eventually, I had to let him go. It all hurt too much. He was nothing to me anymore. It was becoming unhealthy. But as for finding the sleeping princess, I made it as difficult for him as possible.
To love her rather than me, he would have to work for it. He would pay dearly for making that mistake.
Even if it means I need to turn into a stinking purple dragon.
Storytime with P. Meggy "I'm Not That Girl"
Abby Childress is my best friend.
She’s amazing at everything, soccer especially. It feels like she’s always got one letter grade higher than me. Plus, I’m an A or B student, it’s not like I get terrible grades. We’re in all the same classes, and most of the time we work together. She’s absolutely gorgeous, and I love her to pieces for not being one of those girls.
You know what I mean. One of those girls.
She likes to be different, not in the “I’m acting out and trying to get attention” kind of way. For her, it’s more like “I don’t really care what other people think, so I’m going to do whatever the heck I want to.”
Let me tell you, Abby can rock it. She played on the boys’ soccer team last year, because there weren’t any rules against it and because she could. She could beat any guy on the team in a foot race, and no one can match her in skills. It’s great to watch. She bleached her hair so blonde once it was nearly white, just to have an unnatural color that wasn’t against school rules. She does stuff like that.
People just adore Abby. She doesn’t try to be popular. She doesn’t even try to be fashionable, but whatever she wears looks awesome on her. She just wears whatever she thought felt right that day, and most importantly, it would be comfortable. Get one thing straight, though. Abby isn’t major anorexic skinny. It’s not like she’s fat or anything, either. She’s actually perfectly on the average for her age and height. She doesn’t have that amazing tan either, she just doesn’t tan. People don’t seem to notice that.
It’s hard to feel pretty standing next to Abby.
Hey, don’t get me wrong. I’m not some girl who stands in the mirror wishing they were somebody else. No, people tell me I’m pretty, and I don’t have a problem with how I look. Most of the time. Sometimes, I just feel like awkward when I’m with Abby. Like I’m made out of twigs or something. You go somewhere with Abby and then tell me how self-confident you feel.
It probably also doesn’t help that she was dating the guy I’ve had a crush on since seventh grade.
Connor Montgomery. He’s the most amazing guy I’ve ever met. He’s an artsy kind of guy, kind of musical, but not the “I’m going to join a band” kind or the “I’m going to write sappy romantic love songs” kind. He just likes to hear how notes go together, how F sharp makes the key of G sound so different. Stuff like that. He’s not super smart, but not stupid. He’s nice. He’s average. Maybe that’s why I like him, it’s like he could be the stereotypical romantic interest in any young adult novel. Well, besides the ones about vampires or werewolves and stuff, but you know what I meant.
He’s also amazing at soccer. He and Abby played together when she played for the boys’ team. They worked well together on the field. I mean, I don’t quite understand the details, I do track, and I’m not very good. The thing is, even I could tell they had...well, chemistry.
Of course, Abby doesn’t know I had a crush on him. At least, I never told her. But she wouldn’t date him if she knew. Well, I like to think she wouldn’t. I don’t think she would...
They were like the super teen girl’s dream power couple. People say they’re adorable together. People said they would never break up.
Everything about Abby and Connor was perfect.
That is, until they actually did break up.
It was a Saturday, and I was still in the clothes I had slept in, reading a book I had bought the day before. I was on the last chapter when Abby called me.
“Yes?”
“Hey. Are you home?” was the first thing she said to me. I could hear that she was angry. It wasn’t just any kind of angry, it was an “I’m about to punch someone’s lights out” angry. Or an “I’m going to beat someone with a palm tree and then take their heart out and show it to them before they die” kind of angry. Furious might be the better word, actually.
“Yeah, what’s up? Are you okay?” I heard her radio blaring in the background, playing some scream-o song with a really awful guitar part, but I wasn’t planning to point that out.
“No, I’m about to kill someone and I hope it’s doesn’t end up being you. Is it alright if I come over?”
“Depends on if you’re actually going to try and murder me.” I said, trying to get a laugh from her.
No response.
I sighed. “Yeah, it’s fine.”
“Good, because I’m pulling onto your street.” She said, and hung up.
I ran downstairs, still in my PJs, and threw open the front door just in time to see Abby rocket down my driveway. When she got out and slammed the door, I worried for a moment just how serious she was about murdering someone. It all melted away when she got to me.
“Sid, I broke up with him.” She said as the tears began to fall. “He was dating another girl. He was cheating on me, Sidney!”
I hugged her for a long time, there on my front porch. Eventually, we went inside, and I tried to distract her with anything. We talked about my book, TV, music, anything but the fact that Connor was a cheater. Everything that didn’t have to do with relationships.
It was hours before she left to go back home.
The next person at my door was Connor Montgomery.
“What do you want?” I asked, crossing my arms. I couldn’t help but be mad at him, I mean, he had broken my best friend’s heart earlier today.
“I was looking for Abby; I was told she was here.” He said, looking all sorts of distressed and somehow still attractive. No, not attractive, liars aren’t attractive.
“She left. Thirty minutes ago.”
The corner of his mouth lifted into a little grin. “I thought you would say that.”
Hundreds of thoughts were rushing through my head. Primarily, “What does he mean ‘I thought you would say that?’” and “Oh my gosh, I’m standing on my front porch with a guy wearing pajama pants and an oversized T-shirt.”
Thankfully, I only voiced the former.
“Breaking up with Abby...well, it made me realize why I went out with her in the first place.”
“What?”
“How do I put this without seeming like a jerk?” Connor said, running his fingers through his hair. It wasn’t fair how he could do that and still look cute afterwards. If I did that, I’d end up looking like I had some nasty bed head.
“A jerk?” I forced a laugh. “Connor, you were cheating on my best friend.”
He shook his head and sighed. “I wasn’t cheating on her. I wouldn’t do that. Abby wouldn’t listen to the whole story. You know how she is...”
“Whatever. Sorry, Connor, if I choose to believe Abby before I believe you.”
“I didn’t cheat on her, Sidney! You know I wouldn’t!” He was pacing, now, back and forth in front of my front door. “I wouldn’t cheat on her, because I only dated her to get to know you! I only wanted to get close to you!”
He stopped pacing, now, and turned to face me. The expression of surprise he wore, mirrored mine. We stared at each other for a moment, not quite knowing what to say.
“I finally said it.” Connor said.
“That is an awful thing to do, Connor. Do you think I’d want to know you, now? Now that I know everything you and Abby had was a lie? She adored you, Connor!”
“It wasn’t, no...That’s not what I meant, Sidney. Just hear me out. The whole thing, and not just what Abby told you.”
“I’m listening.”
He started pacing again. “The girl Abby saw me with was my cousin. My cousin, Sid! I tried to explain it to her, but she wouldn’t listen to me. She started shouting at me, and finally she broke it off, and left.”
“Well, if you never really wanted to date her, I guess that wasn’t a big problem, was it?”
I was shaking. I didn’t know who to believe at this point. What if Connor was telling me the truth? Abby really was prone to get mad and not listen to the whole story. It sounded like something she would do. But she was my best friend; I would believe her any day over some dumb boy. Best friends. I’d never lie to her.
But she had lied to me. It was never anything this important, and it wasn’t ever a really big deal. She had ditched me before, for cooler friends. She may be my best friend, but to her, I was expendable.
What if I chose to believe Connor? I could be wrong, and he could really be a two-timer. In the end, everything would fall apart the same way it did for Abby. But unlike Abby, I wouldn’t have a best friend to go to when it really did.
What if I was right? Abby would hate me forever, but her life would be in pieces. I mean, I have had a crush on Connor since seventh grade. If he was telling the truth, he was with his cousin, and he likes me. He wanted to get to know me. Abby may not be happy, but I could find someone else to be friends with. I’d be happy.
But I’m not one of those girls.
Am I?
She’s amazing at everything, soccer especially. It feels like she’s always got one letter grade higher than me. Plus, I’m an A or B student, it’s not like I get terrible grades. We’re in all the same classes, and most of the time we work together. She’s absolutely gorgeous, and I love her to pieces for not being one of those girls.
You know what I mean. One of those girls.
She likes to be different, not in the “I’m acting out and trying to get attention” kind of way. For her, it’s more like “I don’t really care what other people think, so I’m going to do whatever the heck I want to.”
Let me tell you, Abby can rock it. She played on the boys’ soccer team last year, because there weren’t any rules against it and because she could. She could beat any guy on the team in a foot race, and no one can match her in skills. It’s great to watch. She bleached her hair so blonde once it was nearly white, just to have an unnatural color that wasn’t against school rules. She does stuff like that.
People just adore Abby. She doesn’t try to be popular. She doesn’t even try to be fashionable, but whatever she wears looks awesome on her. She just wears whatever she thought felt right that day, and most importantly, it would be comfortable. Get one thing straight, though. Abby isn’t major anorexic skinny. It’s not like she’s fat or anything, either. She’s actually perfectly on the average for her age and height. She doesn’t have that amazing tan either, she just doesn’t tan. People don’t seem to notice that.
It’s hard to feel pretty standing next to Abby.
Hey, don’t get me wrong. I’m not some girl who stands in the mirror wishing they were somebody else. No, people tell me I’m pretty, and I don’t have a problem with how I look. Most of the time. Sometimes, I just feel like awkward when I’m with Abby. Like I’m made out of twigs or something. You go somewhere with Abby and then tell me how self-confident you feel.
It probably also doesn’t help that she was dating the guy I’ve had a crush on since seventh grade.
Connor Montgomery. He’s the most amazing guy I’ve ever met. He’s an artsy kind of guy, kind of musical, but not the “I’m going to join a band” kind or the “I’m going to write sappy romantic love songs” kind. He just likes to hear how notes go together, how F sharp makes the key of G sound so different. Stuff like that. He’s not super smart, but not stupid. He’s nice. He’s average. Maybe that’s why I like him, it’s like he could be the stereotypical romantic interest in any young adult novel. Well, besides the ones about vampires or werewolves and stuff, but you know what I meant.
He’s also amazing at soccer. He and Abby played together when she played for the boys’ team. They worked well together on the field. I mean, I don’t quite understand the details, I do track, and I’m not very good. The thing is, even I could tell they had...well, chemistry.
Of course, Abby doesn’t know I had a crush on him. At least, I never told her. But she wouldn’t date him if she knew. Well, I like to think she wouldn’t. I don’t think she would...
They were like the super teen girl’s dream power couple. People say they’re adorable together. People said they would never break up.
Everything about Abby and Connor was perfect.
That is, until they actually did break up.
It was a Saturday, and I was still in the clothes I had slept in, reading a book I had bought the day before. I was on the last chapter when Abby called me.
“Yes?”
“Hey. Are you home?” was the first thing she said to me. I could hear that she was angry. It wasn’t just any kind of angry, it was an “I’m about to punch someone’s lights out” angry. Or an “I’m going to beat someone with a palm tree and then take their heart out and show it to them before they die” kind of angry. Furious might be the better word, actually.
“Yeah, what’s up? Are you okay?” I heard her radio blaring in the background, playing some scream-o song with a really awful guitar part, but I wasn’t planning to point that out.
“No, I’m about to kill someone and I hope it’s doesn’t end up being you. Is it alright if I come over?”
“Depends on if you’re actually going to try and murder me.” I said, trying to get a laugh from her.
No response.
I sighed. “Yeah, it’s fine.”
“Good, because I’m pulling onto your street.” She said, and hung up.
I ran downstairs, still in my PJs, and threw open the front door just in time to see Abby rocket down my driveway. When she got out and slammed the door, I worried for a moment just how serious she was about murdering someone. It all melted away when she got to me.
“Sid, I broke up with him.” She said as the tears began to fall. “He was dating another girl. He was cheating on me, Sidney!”
I hugged her for a long time, there on my front porch. Eventually, we went inside, and I tried to distract her with anything. We talked about my book, TV, music, anything but the fact that Connor was a cheater. Everything that didn’t have to do with relationships.
It was hours before she left to go back home.
The next person at my door was Connor Montgomery.
“What do you want?” I asked, crossing my arms. I couldn’t help but be mad at him, I mean, he had broken my best friend’s heart earlier today.
“I was looking for Abby; I was told she was here.” He said, looking all sorts of distressed and somehow still attractive. No, not attractive, liars aren’t attractive.
“She left. Thirty minutes ago.”
The corner of his mouth lifted into a little grin. “I thought you would say that.”
Hundreds of thoughts were rushing through my head. Primarily, “What does he mean ‘I thought you would say that?’” and “Oh my gosh, I’m standing on my front porch with a guy wearing pajama pants and an oversized T-shirt.”
Thankfully, I only voiced the former.
“Breaking up with Abby...well, it made me realize why I went out with her in the first place.”
“What?”
“How do I put this without seeming like a jerk?” Connor said, running his fingers through his hair. It wasn’t fair how he could do that and still look cute afterwards. If I did that, I’d end up looking like I had some nasty bed head.
“A jerk?” I forced a laugh. “Connor, you were cheating on my best friend.”
He shook his head and sighed. “I wasn’t cheating on her. I wouldn’t do that. Abby wouldn’t listen to the whole story. You know how she is...”
“Whatever. Sorry, Connor, if I choose to believe Abby before I believe you.”
“I didn’t cheat on her, Sidney! You know I wouldn’t!” He was pacing, now, back and forth in front of my front door. “I wouldn’t cheat on her, because I only dated her to get to know you! I only wanted to get close to you!”
He stopped pacing, now, and turned to face me. The expression of surprise he wore, mirrored mine. We stared at each other for a moment, not quite knowing what to say.
“I finally said it.” Connor said.
“That is an awful thing to do, Connor. Do you think I’d want to know you, now? Now that I know everything you and Abby had was a lie? She adored you, Connor!”
“It wasn’t, no...That’s not what I meant, Sidney. Just hear me out. The whole thing, and not just what Abby told you.”
“I’m listening.”
He started pacing again. “The girl Abby saw me with was my cousin. My cousin, Sid! I tried to explain it to her, but she wouldn’t listen to me. She started shouting at me, and finally she broke it off, and left.”
“Well, if you never really wanted to date her, I guess that wasn’t a big problem, was it?”
I was shaking. I didn’t know who to believe at this point. What if Connor was telling me the truth? Abby really was prone to get mad and not listen to the whole story. It sounded like something she would do. But she was my best friend; I would believe her any day over some dumb boy. Best friends. I’d never lie to her.
But she had lied to me. It was never anything this important, and it wasn’t ever a really big deal. She had ditched me before, for cooler friends. She may be my best friend, but to her, I was expendable.
What if I chose to believe Connor? I could be wrong, and he could really be a two-timer. In the end, everything would fall apart the same way it did for Abby. But unlike Abby, I wouldn’t have a best friend to go to when it really did.
What if I was right? Abby would hate me forever, but her life would be in pieces. I mean, I have had a crush on Connor since seventh grade. If he was telling the truth, he was with his cousin, and he likes me. He wanted to get to know me. Abby may not be happy, but I could find someone else to be friends with. I’d be happy.
But I’m not one of those girls.
Am I?
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PLOT BUNNIES!!!
(I can't believe it. I fell asleep. While blogging. On the plotbunnies birthday. That's really awful...)
1. It's the plot bunnies' birthday! HOORAH!!!
2. DON'T. give. them. CAKE.
3. So, there's not going to be a great big celebration, because Cat is not going to be any fun and is not blogging.
4. I KNOW! SAD, RIGHT?!?
5. I love doing challenges I missed! It makes me feel better about missing them!
6. So, for me to celebrate the plot bunnies' birthday, the rest of this list is dedicated to fun memories and blog posts. (My favorites)
7. THE FIRST EVER BLOG POST (and Cat's first rant!)
8. THE FIRST EVER FRIDAY FIFTEEN
9. my first challenge! and Cat's first challenge!
10. Ethan and Shane's first appearance
11. Guest writers, guest writers, guest writers, and GUEST WRITERS!
12. Cat's BIRTHDAY and my BIRTHDAY
13. Some of my favorite stories we've posted
14. RANDOM
15. the infamous SQUEE for ten followers
~P. Megz OUT!!!
1. It's the plot bunnies' birthday! HOORAH!!!
2. DON'T. give. them. CAKE.
3. So, there's not going to be a great big celebration, because Cat is not going to be any fun and is not blogging.
4. I KNOW! SAD, RIGHT?!?
5. I love doing challenges I missed! It makes me feel better about missing them!
6. So, for me to celebrate the plot bunnies' birthday, the rest of this list is dedicated to fun memories and blog posts. (My favorites)
7. THE FIRST EVER BLOG POST (and Cat's first rant!)
8. THE FIRST EVER FRIDAY FIFTEEN
9. my first challenge! and Cat's first challenge!
10. Ethan and Shane's first appearance
11. Guest writers, guest writers, guest writers, and GUEST WRITERS!
12. Cat's BIRTHDAY and my BIRTHDAY
13. Some of my favorite stories we've posted
14. RANDOM
15. the infamous SQUEE for ten followers
~P. Megz OUT!!!
August 4, 2011
Poetry from P. Meggy...oh my...
"Le Faucon Noir"
Let me tell you a tale,
a story no one knows,
of two loves who died together,
both hanging from the gallows.
She was a young English beauty,
with hair colored gold,
and a dazzling smile.
She would never grow old.
He was a pirate, The Black Falcon,
a known liar, theif and outlaw,
but the Falcon was clever,
he always eluded the law.
He met her at night,
under the cover of darkness.
He promised her riches, stars and moon,
but could love him no less.
They danced together,
under light of the moon,
cherishing those moments,
his ship would sail soon.
He raided royal ships,
earned a price on his head,
the Navy would capture him,
be it living or dead.
The Falcon laughed in their faces,
and slipped through their fingers.
His head they couldn't have,
but they could take hers.
They gave him a choise,
of her or the sea,
she could live on without him,
or he could stay free.
So he gave himself up,
and sailed his ship in,
to save his lover's life,
he went to the king's men.
"Remember me," he told her,
as he was led to the rope,
tears came to her eyes,
for him there was no hope.
But she tried, anyway,
to save her dying sailor,
with a stolen sword,
she murdered the jailer.
Despite all her efforts,
the soldiers were fast.
They imprisoned her also,
now this day was her last.
When the moon is bright,
and the stars are out,
they say you can see,
ghosts dancing about.
It is the pirate,
and his gold-haired girl,
they still dance together,
at night they still twirl.
So if ever you wonder,
what happened to the pair,
go and visit the gallows,
you will find them there.
Let me tell you a tale,
a story no one knows,
of two loves who died together,
both hanging from the gallows.
She was a young English beauty,
with hair colored gold,
and a dazzling smile.
She would never grow old.
He was a pirate, The Black Falcon,
a known liar, theif and outlaw,
but the Falcon was clever,
he always eluded the law.
He met her at night,
under the cover of darkness.
He promised her riches, stars and moon,
but could love him no less.
They danced together,
under light of the moon,
cherishing those moments,
his ship would sail soon.
He raided royal ships,
earned a price on his head,
the Navy would capture him,
be it living or dead.
The Falcon laughed in their faces,
and slipped through their fingers.
His head they couldn't have,
but they could take hers.
They gave him a choise,
of her or the sea,
she could live on without him,
or he could stay free.
So he gave himself up,
and sailed his ship in,
to save his lover's life,
he went to the king's men.
"Remember me," he told her,
as he was led to the rope,
tears came to her eyes,
for him there was no hope.
But she tried, anyway,
to save her dying sailor,
with a stolen sword,
she murdered the jailer.
Despite all her efforts,
the soldiers were fast.
They imprisoned her also,
now this day was her last.
When the moon is bright,
and the stars are out,
they say you can see,
ghosts dancing about.
It is the pirate,
and his gold-haired girl,
they still dance together,
at night they still twirl.
So if ever you wonder,
what happened to the pair,
go and visit the gallows,
you will find them there.
DON'TLOOKLEFTDON'TSTRAYRIGHT
I am a fan of Ivoryline.
That one line is really nice.
I like it.
It's...poetic.
Well, I finished my summer reading essays! Which reminds me..that since tomorrow is the plot bunnies' birthday I should probably work on those challenges I am trying to make up.
I've already written one of them, believe it or not. :D
The other day, I was discussing the plotbunnies' birthday with Cat. It went something like this...
PM (ME): Friday is the Escape of the Evil Plot Bunnies first anniversary!
CC (CAT): We should make CAKE or something.
PM: Yes! We should! Oh, no, wait, we can't make cake.
CC: Why not?
PM: They'll throw it at us.
CC: Who will?
PM: The plot bunnies.
CC: ....oh.
So yeah, no cake for the plot bunnies. They like to throw cake.
Well, since my brain has exploded a couple of times today, (I saw Captain America, did two essays, and realized that it is my last day of freedom) I'm going to give you yet ANOTHER poem I wrote for a project, I'm sure you remember my last one: The Moon.
So here's another poem, fully written by P. Meggy and Cat Cooper approved.
That one line is really nice.
I like it.
It's...poetic.
Well, I finished my summer reading essays! Which reminds me..that since tomorrow is the plot bunnies' birthday I should probably work on those challenges I am trying to make up.
I've already written one of them, believe it or not. :D
The other day, I was discussing the plotbunnies' birthday with Cat. It went something like this...
PM (ME): Friday is the Escape of the Evil Plot Bunnies first anniversary!
CC (CAT): We should make CAKE or something.
PM: Yes! We should! Oh, no, wait, we can't make cake.
CC: Why not?
PM: They'll throw it at us.
CC: Who will?
PM: The plot bunnies.
CC: ....oh.
So yeah, no cake for the plot bunnies. They like to throw cake.
Well, since my brain has exploded a couple of times today, (I saw Captain America, did two essays, and realized that it is my last day of freedom) I'm going to give you yet ANOTHER poem I wrote for a project, I'm sure you remember my last one: The Moon.
So here's another poem, fully written by P. Meggy and Cat Cooper approved.
August 2, 2011
Even my lists to myself look like a blog post
So I was making a list of challenges I missed, from memory and from reading through the blog.
I'm stopping now, and I'm not sure if it's because of tiredness or shock at the sheer amount of challenges I missed.
It's a pretty great list, even if it's kind of daunting. And kind of sad.
Here goes:
List of Challenges I have missed and need to make up:
1. “I feel as though I am now morally obliged to punch you in the face.”
2. Thomas Morrigan (not really a challenge, but you said you would do it, so do it sometime)
3. Fairytale (find that, you saved it in your documents somewhere)
4. Child’s point of view (OH MAN, BLAST FROM THE PAST)
5. April Fool’s Joke gone wrong (April is now replaced with August. August Fool's Joke)
6. “I’m Not That Girl”
7. “The Drink In My Hand” (Didn't you write the first half of this? Find it somewhere)
8. Those book reviews you promised...you should do those at some point...(The sequel to “Nightshade” just came out, good grief)
And all that is just from my memory and 2011 posts. Good grief......
There's a cricket outside my window. I can hear it.
Good night world, I'm sleeping before I go insane.
I'm stopping now, and I'm not sure if it's because of tiredness or shock at the sheer amount of challenges I missed.
It's a pretty great list, even if it's kind of daunting. And kind of sad.
Here goes:
List of Challenges I have missed and need to make up:
1. “I feel as though I am now morally obliged to punch you in the face.”
2. Thomas Morrigan (not really a challenge, but you said you would do it, so do it sometime)
3. Fairytale (find that, you saved it in your documents somewhere)
4. Child’s point of view (OH MAN, BLAST FROM THE PAST)
5. April Fool’s Joke gone wrong (April is now replaced with August. August Fool's Joke)
6. “I’m Not That Girl”
7. “The Drink In My Hand” (Didn't you write the first half of this? Find it somewhere)
8. Those book reviews you promised...you should do those at some point...(The sequel to “Nightshade” just came out, good grief)
And all that is just from my memory and 2011 posts. Good grief......
There's a cricket outside my window. I can hear it.
Good night world, I'm sleeping before I go insane.
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