NaNoWriMo or what am I getting myself into…

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For years I have wanted to take part in National Novel Writing Month but for one reason or another I haven’t (pregnancy, new baby, a rabid fan fiction addiction…the list goes on.) This year I am going to attempt it, and hope that I can complete it. I have had this idea in my head for a while now and I feel that I need a motivator to get myself sitting down at the keyboard and writing. I love writing, the feel of the keyboard under my fingers or ink on my thumb, for the assuaging sensation; the cathartic effect. I have yet to find a problem that I am unable to write myself off a ledge from. (Does that even make sense? It has been over two years since I have tried to seriously write.) Wish me luck, and I’ll try to post updates for anyone following this process.

NaNoWriMo

The 11th Doctor and His TARDIS

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I had this long blog post about how I haven’t been blogging for all these amazing reasons like saving South African amoebas or something but of course it got deleted accidentally because the only time I turn on my laptop anymore is to watch Buffy.

This Halloween I feel like I finally got it right. Normally I struggle because no costume is that right mix of being flattering, cool and somewhat original. I made our costumes, with me being the TARDIS and Jackson the 11th Doctor (admittedly with Tennant hair, though.) I think they looked really great and were surprisingly easy to create once I got started. If you have any question message me and I’ll let you know.

Also I want to remind you that according to Gaiman the TARDIS’ other name is Sexy.

 

 

I swear I’m not doing this because of I-Tunes

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I can’t exactly pin point what it is about me lately. I was once a very cynical person. And now? I find myself crying at the drop of a hat, or rather at the beginning of Love Actually. Which is a very sweet opening to a movie. Or maybe it’s the wedding scene where the band begins to play All You Need is Love. Because, The Beatles are amazing and timeless and Without fail I Will makes me teary eyed and nostalgic.

I can’t say that I’ve changed to person I am completely. The opening riffs of “I hope you dance” make me ill and I detest cards with kittens on them.

And yet, I am definitely softening up a little. And is that so bad?

Yeah, I suppose it is.

Signs of my cynicism or the lack there of. Is that one word? lackthereof, no it’s separate. Unlike nevertheless which confuses me….

Fuck You, Flowers

Baby Dreams

I’ll include a dog picture if it features the phrase “They be raping everyone.”

Christ’s Sake

Root Beer Sucks

Barfy or hardy is what spellcheck is telling me to say.

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We are on the ferry coming back from the Seahawks game (where the guy behind us threw up inches from my mother in laws head.) and I saw this guy’s bitching hat. It has a feather, which I’m pretty sure is from a Seahawk, because they are totally real.
True story.

Also there is some crazy girl wearing a cardinals sweatshirt who is standing on the deck of the boat in the rain like she’s the second coming of Rose DeWitt Bukater. Which I guess if you’re from Phoenix is real cute, but up here she just looks stupid. And fifteen years late.
Just because,  here is an atrocious picture (my photography skills seem to be worse when I’m sober) of our view from the seats.

And if you’re wondering how it is magically darker at Qwest field than it was on the ferry, the answer is that The PacNor is mystical like that. Certainly not that the picture from the field was actually taken a month ago and I accidentally deleted the picture from my phone on Sunday. Because that would be ridiculous. 

I went to Forks and all I got was an annoyed husband

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This post is brought by a photo show that I made with a shitty copy of Coconut Records-West Coast. 

   

The Husband and I went to Kalaloch this weekend and celebrated out third wedding anniversary. We spent a lot of time on the beach; chasing birds, taking pictures of our shadows and antagonizing a large crab. At some point I bent down to pick up a clear rock and got a handful of jellyfish which freaked me out, but Rusty made me feel better by peeing in the ocean and possibly flashing Japan. Or is it Russia?     

We went down on the beach after dark to sit on a blanket and drink Framboise out of the bottle. A huge light from what I am only assuming is either a boat or an alien was bobbing in the west. We snuggled and laughed and he shined the flashlight at other beach dwellers in what I’m pretty sure was Killer Jellyfish in morse code. And then we looked up at the stars and I found both the little and big dipper (and consequently lost them) as well as my first real shooting star.     

shooting star wishes in the sky

I wished for more framboise

 

The next day, my friend said that he too is writing a book, kind of like Tolkien but with native folklore and I was excited until he said there were no werewolves. Which really sucks, but I suppose if he wants to get all philosophical he can and then he jumped on top of a fallen tree and took his shirt off and tried to act like Edward Cullen and I couldn’t find my camera but I drew this picture instead.     

Cullen impressions in Kalaloch
Pretty much how it went down

And it was awesome.  

 My BFF Cantante went to Forks and I bought killer rain boots that said ‘Forks, love at first bite’ which isn’t exactly true since Edward didn’t bite Bella until they were in Phoenix but “Forks- where Edward creeps in windows and doesn’t want to get laid, until he can give Bella a caesarean with his teeth two years later” doesn’t have the same ring, I suppose.
 

The Andy-Mon

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For this holiest of holy days, I shall tell you a story about a young boy. A boy not unlike many you will see walking down the road. But like his super human predecessors he holds a secret…

Megan, Andy and Heidi; Halloween 1990
The boy who would be the Mon, sandwiched between some crazy cheerleader and an anorexic pumpkin

 

On the usually tepid day of August 19th 1990, People around America were celebrating National Aviation Day and both a pre-Lewinsky, Bill Clinton and The man who would become Uncle Jesse celebrated their birthdays.* KISS was playing a concert in Biloxi, Mississippi and people in the Pacific Northwest went about their business, not knowing that as their day waned a child was being born. He was known as…

The Andy-Mon
 
 When he was born he looked like any other boy; green eyes and chubby arms. What no one knew was this boy was also born with magical hair. Growing thick and unruly in the wet climate, the hair began to show it’s prowess. All at once The Andy-Mon was protected from nOObs, douchey people who wear converse sneakers and Oregon Duck fans.
Using his hair he battled with frigid temperatures, never once waning from his uniform of board shorts and rainbow sandals. He fought with waves in Maui and came out slightly bent but still victorious above the boogy board.
Like all super heroes, he faced hardships in the form of having two older sisters who made him sit in the middle seat of the car, telling him “You can see the clock better.”
 
Yes, the Mon has a hard journey ahead of him and like ever Ace before him, he will be tested. For Hero’s are not born but made.
 
Go forth, The Mon and battle the world with your magical hair and your lightning wit.
 
 I love you buddy.
Happy Birthday!!
 
*Sorry Buddy, I’m sure you would much rather have someone cooler that John Stamos share your birthday. That was the cards we’re dealt.

The Bitch Theory

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This Post is brought to you by The Plastiscines.
 
 
Many girls want to be doctors or lawyers when the grow up. Maybe a nice teacher or a chef. I’ve only wanted to be one thing. A bitch. Yes that’s right a BITCH. I love bitches. They add a little spice to a otherwise boring tale. Elle Woods is cute but give me Vivienne Kensington anyday. I adored Taylor Towsend immediately. She was hard and snooty and crazy. While everyone else was rooting for the goonies but I loved Mama Frattelli. You’d be crabby if you had to deal with Sloth.

 

I suppose it is because I am not a very mean person but I’m drawn to them. The Gretchen Wiener to the Regina George’s of the world. (Her hair is so big because it’s full of secrets.) Regina was a force to be reckoned with. When she said the immortal words. 

Like this one time, I got this really expensive doll house from Germany, but I never played with it. So my mom wanted to give it to my cousin. But even though I didn’t want it…I threw it down the stairs. 

Yes! That is my kind of girl! She was everything I wanted to be . In every movie I have a favorite character and she is always the bitch. Ala some of my faves: 

Kat Stratford-10 things I hate about you: I still maintain that he kicked himself in the balls. 

Carolyn Burnham-American Beauty Honey, I’m so proud of you. I watched you very closely, and you didn’t screw up once! 

  

Quite poetic don’t you think? I even tend to listen to angry bitch music. A little Misery Business or Smile can make my frown turn upside down. As sweet as Sandy is I have always rooted for Rizzo. That girl can rock it.
  
 
This brings me to my favorite b to the oetch. Rosalie Hale. That girl can work it. The moment I met her (We’re BFF’s by the way) I adored her. The evil looks and beautiful sneers. Here icy demeanor and biting remarks. She was a vision in couture. Most people are surprised to find this out. I am Team Rosalie all the way. Don’t get me wrong I love Bella and Edward. I think Alice is delightful and I have a huge soft spot for Jasper and Emmett. But when it come to my girl crush Rosalie has me heart and soul. A mega bitch just adds a little flair to the story. Like Tabasco.
                                    
There is nothing like an opinionated girl to get the party started.

What do you think this is, a gang bang?