Category: Random

Today is

another boring day. As usual. The house is empty, and I’m home alone, conviced that an elongated state of boredom can kill. Or create some weird shiz. Been listening to music all morning, some Smooth (song), bad rap, and anything else that could induce a state of un-boredom (as hip-hop usually will).

Needless to say, it hasn’t worked.




Fire! Fire!

California, as during every fall and winter, is on fire. Now that I’m living in Vegas, I have the gist of how bad they become. The city, once more, is clogged with smoke this morning. Two days ago I couldn’t see five miles out, and the strip and mountains were choked by fog. Today, though, it’s better, which may or may not be to due the hurricane we have brewing (category 5) on the West Coast. We’ll get some of it, although the mountains will break up anything potentially threatning. The sky is blue, and this settles strange with me because, in Florida, it would have been cloudy and stormy by now.

Update: Not only is California on fire, but Athens as well. I pity those people who are losing their homes, and I also pity the possible loss of ruins. ‘Twas a sad sad day. (I must use dots to keep everything in order. It’s jumbled otherwise.)

The fires inspired a poem and journal entry. Only four or five lines from the poem were decent, and the journal entry needed cleaning up.

  • Jounal Entry: There are fires today. You could not see ten miles out this morning; the city was covered in a thick film of smog. Tonight, the same occurs: you stand with your elbows resting on the rail, inhaling the thick air and smog, seeing the city. You are sad for the people whose homes have been lost. There are spindly trees across the street, and cars pass by so often. Still, everything is unnervingly quiet. All this you see from your balcony. If you look up, really look up, it seems someone has nubbed out the blue part of the sky and what remains is a mixture of bleach fumes and ocean tides.

Twilight and Tofu

Yesterday I tried tofu for the first time, and I vow never again, even if I am starving, never again will I eat it. My mom cooked it from its raw state and placed it in the fridge under a tin foil wrap, and I, out of boredom or desperation, tried a piece. I scarfed down a few bites before hacking it up into the garbage can. It tasted of old cheese, milk (which I despise), and rotting fish. I shudder at the memory and nearly puke whenever I open the fridge and see it there.

It was very comparable to Twilight, which I thought I would give a review of, as I have read the entire series. And yes, I once was a rabid twelve-year-old Twilight fan. It wasn’t until a year or two ago I started to see the issues, which are:

  • Clichés like the plague. I mean, honestly, who wants to read about a girl and her vampire boyfriend? It’s overdone, trite, and boring. The situations are unrealistic, and Bella is a Mary Sue. Or perhaps I’m not into romance.
  • The writing was horrible. Several times I found myself cringing at this or that.
  • It’s fanfic. No, really, it is. I know fifteen-year-olds who write a thousand times better than Mrs. Meyer. The Twilight series is basically spawned from other series the author read, which include Anne Rice, and many more.
  • The characters are too perfect – especially Bella, who is clumsy and pretty and endearing. She’s never tried drugs, never smoked, etc.; and I do see where the author comes off not wanting to portray her like that, but such as life.

The third book, Eclipse, contained many flow errors. The plot was derived from the first two, if you look closely enough. It sucked, basically, which is why it always remained my least favorite, even when the series held a special place in my heart. But seasons pass and children grow, and I must have grown a lot.

The last book, Breaking Dawn, might have been slightly more terrible than the third. Stephanie Meyer cut so many corners. Because Bella needed a happy ending, she got pregnant on her honeymoon and became the vampire who did not have to reconcile with herself, her strength, or human blood. Huzzah! Problem solved. And then she has her baby, the adorable and sweet Renesmee Cullen, whom everybody loved on first glance, including Jacob, who actually imprinted on the poor dear. But that’s not all! What would this book be without bloodshed and the Voltari? But – oh dear, there isn’t any bloodshed after all because Bella saves the day with her superpowers! And then Bella and Edward live happily ever after in their cottage in the woods (Not. Even. Joking.).

Honestly, when the fourth book came out, I bought it only because I wanted to finish the series. Once I start something I get a compulsiveness to finish it. I just couldn’t not finish it, plus I got to mock the other two books after they came out. They were bad. Like, bad-bad, not your typical romance story bad. When the movie came out, I also went to see it. The effects were cool; I can give it that. But it still sucked.


For a better read than Twilight, try The Book Thief by Markus Zusak.

the book thief

The Book is about a girl, Leisel Meimger, living in Nazi Germany during WWII. She is sent to live with a foster family after her brother dies and her mother can no longer care for her. The unique thing about it is that Leisel and her foster family are not Jews, but they do help them (Jews).  It’s a powerful and even life-changing book told from Death’s point of view.


Because my old one is breaking even though I bought it only a few months ago, I’m getting a new laptop courtesy of my grandparents!!! Say yay for grandparents who spoil you to no end. But other than that my day has been pretty ordinary. I’m thinking of climbing the mountain across the street, which someone defaced in an act of defiance or whatever. It would be awesome to reach the top and look around and possibly even scream because of my fear of heights.

Hm. I need something interesting to say, so…



A long time ago I bought some dinar, which is Iraqi money. The economy is doing much better and I guess I made the right decision because their money is supposed to revalue and I’ll get a few hundred thousand dollars (all to myself) when it does. Of course, I will give to charity, the church, blah blah blah, but I can’t wait to get out there and start doing stuff with it. I have a lot of ideas floating around my head.

Adopt a child, or whatever. You pay for a child’s expenses every month, but it’s not at all expensive, and you get the peace of mind knowing a child somewhere is attending school and eating food and wearing shoes. No cold feet for whoever you help. xD

Since I hated my old blog with a passion, I’m moving all content to the new one. I figure, every writer needs a blog, correct?

Well, here was the initial first post of my first blog:

I’ve only had a blog one other time, and that one is basically dead, so I’ll try to make the most of this one. I can tell anyone who happens to be viewing this that it is two in the morning, I’ve had too much caffeine, and I’m obsessed with a writing site. It pains me to leave the page and wander elsewhere to grace the Internet with my presence.

I know if my mom woke up right now to find me awake she would freak out and very possibly ground me.

There you have it: the utter angst of an insomniac teenage writer at two in the morning. Maybe I’ll post more another day, but right now I am still learning the contours of this blog and its many features.


But that was then, and this is now. I figure I will depict my interests, rather than bore you with an explination of them.




Writing Novels

Writing Novels


Most Awesome Movie of 2009

Most Awesome Movie of 2009

The mountains near my home in Las Vegas, Nevada. I'm very proud of this picture.

The mountains near my home in Las Vegas, Nevada. I'm very proud of this picture.


A picture of me, without make-up, my hair up, and wearing my oh-so-comfy house robe.

A picture of me, without make-up, my hair up, and wearing my oh-so-comfy house robe.


And many more, which I won’t list as of now.

I’m fifteen, aspiring author and poet, and I have joined several writing forums over the last eight months in hopes of becoming a better writer. My interests don’t fall outside writing, really, which means I’m a one hit wonder, I suppose.  I’ve many interesting tales to tell, but I also have no patience right now to churn them out. Perhaps another day…