My Doggie Plans

When I get my own place after college that ISN'T an appartment building, I will get myself some dogs. Not that I'm in any way displeased with my current babies, Ellie the Yorkie and Tommy the Mini Schnauzer, but I will most likely be too far to mother them in college and then... well, nobody lasts forever. Wow. I feel terrible now that I just typed that. Its like I'm some mother who's already planning which children to adopt after my current ones die off. I'm a terrible person... But since I've already uploaded the pictures I am forced to carry on anyways.

The first picture there is a black pug (duh). His name will be Professor, 'Fessor for short. I think he looks like a Professor. I don't really know why, but I just love the name for a doggie, and I chose a pug just because I had a pug when I was little, and he was such a sweetheart! But the name could also work for a mini schnauzer like my Tommy, because of the beard and eyebrow thing his breed has going.

Second pic up there is a mutt. That's right, I also desire a mutt. If possible I will pick mine up from a little farm that gives away mutt puppies for free in return for a happy home. I dunno if there actually are any places like that, but I've seen them in movies (yeah, that settles it). I will name my pretty mutt Milo. I think Milo is a really adorable name, and I've always wanted to use it somewhere. Though I do admit that the name also reminds me of the disney animated movie Atlantis (the awkward main character with the glasses) and one of my all time favorite movies as a little girl: Milo and Otis (though Milo is supposed to be the cat, Otis the dog).

Anyways, I just realized that both names are for male dogs. Professor is technically applied to both men and women, but I just can't see a girl being names 'Fessor. That's okay, though, male dogs are generally cool, and I've heard that women get on better with male dogs and visa versa for men and female dogs. I want two because I don't want my doggies to get lonely. I don't think that Bentley (my late pug) minded much being alone, but you never know. I know my Tommy and Ellie are happier together than apart- I see them snuggled up together as they sleep or romp around the yard together.

I don't think I'd be interested in getting a cat or a kitten. Too independent, too oh-I-really-couldn't-care-less-about-you for my taste. I did have a cat once, Molly, otherwise reffered to as 'That Cat'. She wasn't a kitten, she was nine months old when we got her, something like that. Black tuxedo and white glove look, deep green eyes. Meanest creature I've ever seen. If she was on the same level of the house as you were, that was as close to 'cuddly' she's ever get. I brushed her everyday, tried to play with her using those feather things on sticks, kept her litter box clean, kept the food and water full, but nooooooo- nothing ever pleased That Cat. Turns out the whole time we had her (only a month before we'd had enough) she had been peeing in the carpeted dining and family rooms, so we had to recarpted the house, pretty much. She also scratched my dad's new leather couch. That one was the last straw, and she was out.

So, yeah- this is my post about my future dogs and why it's not a post about future cats... ta-dah!

"They had faces then"

I found these on flickr and beneath it someone had posted, 'they had faces then'. And I was like, wow, what a perfect way to put it! I was just at the mall for a shopping spree with my friend, code name Sparkles, and I had decided, while browsing through pearl necklaces at Forever21, that next year my project for Photography class will be a period peice- 1920s. I love the feathery hats, pearl earings, floppy dresses, curly bobs, and the individuality of the women of the 20s. So free. The 1920s just rock out loud, and I love the whole decade- it rocks out loud!

Now, I laugh at the models on the cover of Seventeen magezine- what perfect little barbies you have there! There are, of course, good models and photographers nowadays, but I just LOVE period collections. Something about them...

Guardian Angels

(GAs for short) I just finished my second book of the week: Eternal by Cynthia Leitch Smith. It was about a girl and her guardian angel. I could go into the details, but I get embarresed when I try to explain my fantasy novels... I shouldn't be, so hey- I'll write it anyways. Because her angel showed himself to protect her when she was meant to die, she was taken by vampires (yes, yes, I know) and turned. She loses touch with her soul, and her GA is stripped of his powers (a fallen angel). His mission is to save her soul. I'll keep the ending to myself, in case anyone out there has good taste in books. I liked the book, though at times it smacked of Twilight, especially when the girl, Miranda, decided to "fast" and drink pig's blood instead of human blood. But then, I feel bad for the author. Twilight must have been a slap in the face when she read some similar ideas to her own in it. Poor Cynthia, I feel for you.

But anyway, my reason for posting was how the GAs were portrayed in the book. Everyone has one, and they watch over you at all times (and I mean at ALL times, which would be disturbing). They are allowed to only interfere indirectly: influence, creating a distraction, ext. I took to the idea, like I often do in the middle of my reading fevers. Imagine for a moment that you have your very own angel. Right there... ha! Did you look over your shoulder? I really like the idea of it. Comforting, and for the moment I believe in them. Despite my rather uncertain view on religion at all, I can't help it. I have an angel. It would be amazing, having someone there for you but unnoticable, and invisible ally for life. But creepy, too. Did I mention in the book the angel sees everything? He fell in love with his girl (not normal angel behavior) and once said "Shower times were my favorite." Ever been in a situation you wouldn't want a messenger of God to be there for? Uh... you get the point.

So a guardian angel. Cool idea, a little creepy, but cool.

My Political Stance

Everyone is stupid. Every single politician, union member, picketer, senator- all of them. are. idiots.


End post.

Just Chillin', Age

Today was a day for chilling. Nice day, very pretty. A little cool, but a vast improvement from the frigid winter days- I think spring is coming (yay). The snow is melting, only a few stray patches left lingering in the protection of the shadow my house provides. They will be exterminated soon. At least I hope.

I love sitting on the porch. Just to get that out there- I do I do I do. Sometimes I bring my music with me, but its even better just to listen to the sounds of my neighborhood. Kids playing up the street, the neighbor boy practicing lacrosse and failing, the girl across the street gingerly backing the car out of the driveway for her first time driving, the dogs barking at each other... It's just nice, and I can't imagine a childhood without a neighborhood to live it in.

My aunt and uncle came out for a visit today as well. They stayed for a couple of hours and just left a couple of minutes ago. That was nice, I don't see them often. Anyways, it was a nice day all around.

Part two: age. I despise turning older. Birthdays I'm okay with, but having to acknowledge that your one year older is excruciating to me. Even though I'm young, I still don't like it, and I shall impart on you the history of my not-wanting-to-turn-older. *ahem* The first age I didn't want to have was my 6th. I liked being five, and I was afraid to go to full-time school. It was scary, and I barely got the idea that I wouldn't be able to eat lunch with my dad before going off to school anymore (I had afternoon kindergarten). Terrifying, but I loved the cake and the clown, Mr. Twisty. (I don't remember if I had a clown at my birthday party, but it's a pretty good chance.) Second was ten. The double-digit thing is a pretty big jump, there. *tear* Then came thirteen- teenager. I had heard stories about how bad teenagers were, and I didn't want to turn into some monster like people talked about. When people would ask my mom how old i was going to be, they'd hear "thirteen" and say "I'm so sorry." I was like- what the hell is going to happen to me?! Scary thing. Then sixteen. I did not want to turn 16. Fifteen was perfect for the moment- in between ten and twenty - like some song has in its lyrics. I was proud that I was just as close to my childhood as to adulthood (favoring the child side, obviously). This, so far, is my history of age-hating, though I don't really like turning anything- these were the worst (so far).

SO my birthday is tomorrow... eek! I don't wanna! I will accept the presents, family, parties, and cake, but please, I JUST started saying 16 when people ask how old I am as opposed to 15. Don't change it now that I've got it!

Damn.

What I want... really, really badly

Okay, so I've got two major wishes here. And I'll take either one gladly.

First up- being a kid again. I know- I'm not quite an old one, or even middle aged (or even close to it), but I want to be five again all the same. How awesome is the age of five? When school was fun, there was a new letter and song about that letter added to the alphabet string every week, when it was exciting to be able to read a few simple sentences, when kindergarten was a half day and you didn't want to leave school. Kickball games in the neighborhood every other night, trading off with ghost in a graveyard and a weekly man-hunt game. When parents would have their own "summoning call" to make their kids come running home for a snack and bedtime. When the doorbell ringing always meant that my two best friends were here to ask me if I wanted to play. *sigh*

I started to lose math when they started using letters instead of numbers, I dread going to school and wish to leave early if only (if ONLY) I could get up the nerve to skip out, and books that I want to read versus dry old English class books written by dead white guys are a rare treat. The doorbell only rings when the army send out a guy to ask my older brother if he would please take a look at the pamphlet about the Armed Forces or whatever, those two best friends are people I barely even see, much less talk to. I just took the SATs and am looking at colleges I know I won't go to unless I go to, I take tests, prognostics, REGENTS, APs in May, finals, midterms, DBQs, and the NMSQT. It's tiring. Not that life is all bad now (certainly not) but I don't want to get any older.

I mean, if I'm a good girl in life and I go to heaven, I will be five and in my neighborhood again. That is, if I can place an order like that. I don't know how it'll work, but if God can fix me up with that, I would be tha happiest (angel?) in heaven.

Second on my list (though it should be first, as it is just a smidge more likely than the first), is love. I want to fall in love so much, and I know that sounds school-girlish (I am) and naive and innocent (again, I am) and all that- but I do. Yes, I've gotten the memo that it hurts a hell of a lot sometimes, and that it doesn't always work out the way people plan it to... "It is far better to love and lose than never to love at all." Isn't that a famous quote? And certainly I should imagine that famous quotes are grounded with fact and expirience, no? I want to learn about love, for good or for ill. I can only imagine what I could write with such first hand knowledge. But I'm young yet, so I also understand that I'm not ready for what I'm asking here.

What brought this peice to my list was the book I finished last night. I live for the love scenes- when they awkwardly and haltingly confess their feelings for each other, blushing and stuttering. Sometimes they just straight out dive in for a kiss when he/she isn't expecting it. Ah, it's so nice. So are happily ever afters. And I will immediatly stop talking about this because I just re-read what I've been typing and I have realized how stupid and pathetic I sound... damn.

Anyways, these are my two wishes. The first wish is the one that I want more (at this moment in time at least). Think about it- would you like to be five again? You already know my answer is an overly loud and enthusiastic YEEEEEEEES!

Not My Best Idea

Reading Edgar Allan Poe right before I go to bed? Yeah- not my smartest move, I'll admit. The Fall of the House of Usher, I'm sure, my teacher will assure me is one of the best short stories ever written- but seriously? I don't even want to talk about what it had in it, but I will assure you all of it is 100% dark, 100% creepy, and 50% jibberish. Which, I guess, is what makes it a good short story. Look at it- it has 250% to it. I do not wish to turn the lights off and crawl into bed at this hour after reading Poe. To think I was afraid of the dark before? Pshaw! Poe and midnight darkness just do not mix in my book, and I shall never try to cram any english assignment of this sort before I go to bed ever again, because now I am too jumpy to sleep/ be in the dark/ let my mind wander too far to really think about the damned book.

*deep breath*

Perhaps I will have to do some more homework to scrub the sticky remains of Poe off of my mind? Ah, well- it's really late now, so I think I will risk going to bed.

*panic attack*