Monday, October 22, 2007
Friday, October 19, 2007
Needless to say, I was an absolute magnet for popularity.
I either annoyed or intrigued nine tenths of my fellow campers, while the left over ten percent were merely frightened by me, with my insane smirk and limitless instinctual sarcasm. But there was one boy who seemed to quite like me indeed; or he did at least enough to recite a circular nerdy-types poem.
His name was Jon, though I thought he looked more like a Ben, and the first time we met he walked up to me, pen in hand and illegible literary scribblings littered across the page before me, and began, "Crazy? I was crazy once. They put me in a big rubber room - rubber room, rubber room, rubber room. I died in that room. They put me in the big, hard ground. There were worms in that ground. Worms? I hate worms, they drive me crazy. Crazy? I was crazy once...." And so on.
It was love at first paroxysm of geekiness. We were inseparable after that. (aaaaaaaah, we ate together, we bathed together, we even shared the same string of mint-flavored dental flosss...)
Through the rest of the week we were suctioned at the side, traipsing along through the picturesque surroundings of our luxurious Methodist camp - simultaneously learning how to shoot things and how to love God. It was a beautiful thing.
But, as all good things, our innocently unspoken love affair of poking championships and salamandar hunting had to end. The week lolloped on to Saturday, trailing into farewell hugs and last-ditch attempts to pull one over on the counselors, eventually ending with a final embrace and a dusty cloud enveloping his car.
We aggreed to keep in touch, and we did for a few weeks, but summer deteriorated into the lazy smoldering sunsets of Autumn and freedom turned into educational imprisonment, thus giving the chop to my first infatuation.
All that remains of John Tepe are a few crumpled photographs and those formative memories of good times past.
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Yes, she was flawed. Horribly, massively, moodily flawed, but aren't we all? And she had a true and razor sharp brilliance concealed beneath that so human of facades. She used everything she had, and she didn't have much, to propel England, a tiny little island off the coast of France, wildly depleted by the hedonism and insanity of her royal predecessors, to a position of peace, prosperity, and power. Anyone who doesn't revere Elizabeth has something wrong with them. C'mon.
Sunday, October 7, 2007
It will be an absolutely glorious, wonderful day and I just know it. I JUST KNOW IT!
Someone interesting and famous and talented if finally coming to Lexington (well, besides Gail Carson Levine and Barbara Kingsolver, revision: someone male and interesting and famous and talented if finally coming to Lexington). Scott Westerfeld himself in all his literary brilliance is going to grace our humble town of Lexington, and I'm wildly excited.
Friday, October 5, 2007
Much to my contradictorily combined excitement and chagrin, my life is fact shaping into a cliche young adult coming of age novel.
Is this good or is this bad? That is the question. (mad props to you, Shakey, for that brilliantly penned and wildly popular line)
Regardless, I've already got the exposition-y bit of a young adult, coming-of-age, learning about dating novel. Essentially, it all stars with our glam and glorious heroine (ie, ME) falling desperately into a rather ridiculously severe infatuation with the seemingly perfect older guy. Said perfect guy is quirky, funny, charming, and as equally, but far more publicly, glorious as our young heroine (ie, RSP1). He's often quite taken with seemingly obscure nerdy cult indulgences (ie, Monty Python) and is proud of the fact. But, despite the overwhelming awesomeness of our leading lady, he still spends most of his time swishing deliciously about while staunchly ignoring the plight of the aforementioned female.
But things invariably look up. After, that is, things look quite horribly worse.
The protagonist is spirited off on some strange and horrible adventure which, superficially, looks like it's going to be Hell on Earth. HOWEVER, she's soon joined by an equally quirky, underdog-esque, nerdy, but still wildly handsome, male alternative and, invariably, they end up sucking face. After they permanently immobolize their tongues, they head back to the homeland and realize what a horrible, jerkish, shallow person the original infatuation and the girl is all happy and fine.
So I've already gotten through the first bit, now I just need to find me a lovable nerd to suck face with. xD
Thursday, October 4, 2007
John Green vs. Michael Palin : Who's the Most Delicious Man Alive?
First, a brief biography of each for those of you who aren't aware:
John Green: Mr. John Green was born in Indianapolis, the city in which he now resides, and moved away a mere three weeks later. He attended a boarding school for high school and moved on to do a number of uninteresting and mundane things between the ages of eighteen and twenty-nine when he and his brother, Hank Green, nerdfighter and ecogeek extraordinaire, decided to set aside the textual communication and conduct an alternation series of video blogs available at brotherhood2.com and youtube.com/vlogbrothers. I heartily recommend them both. Mr. Green is the author of both wondrous young adult novels Looking For Alaska, and An Abundance of Katherines, and his next book, Paper Towns, is released to the general public next year in September. We are waiting anxiously, I assure you.
Michael Palin: Born on May 5 in Sheffield in 1943, Michael Palin was the youngest of the Monty Python troupe, acclaimed comedic force of the twentieth century and all-around hysterical guys. (by the by, he was the best) Michael Palin swiftly rose to the forefront of the favorites as he went on romping about and contributing to all manner of wondrous cinematic delights such as Brazil and Life of Brian. Then, in 1988, the BBC offered him the opportunity to go traipsing around the globe in eighty days, launching his lucrative and prolific career as England's favorite travel personality. He has been married to the same woman for 41 years and they have three grown children: Thomas (Tom), William, and Rachel. Michael Palin probably has over one hundred tributes floating about youtube in his honor, and he is overwhelmingly delicious even in his older age.
Point Number One - Religion:
I know, with a certain amount of certainty, that the aforementioned Mr. Palin is not, in fact, a Christian follower, which contrasts sharply with my merry self, as I, you see, am. I am Anglican (though I'd like to think I'm openminded enough about the religion thing...) and not likely to give that up any time soon. However, Mr. John Green is, indeed, Epicopalian (that is, a practising member of the Episcopalian church which is, essentially, America's take on Anglicanism) which is a point to him for religious compatiability.
Point Number Two - Profession:
This is a hard point to discuss as length because I'm profoundly in love with both the work of Michal Palin and John Green. You see, I've watched all of the cinematic treasures featuring our English gem available through the Lexington Public library, and I've read most of his corresponding books. However, I have also read and reread both of Mr. Green's glimmering glimpses into the teenage psyche and the teenage life. They are, quite honestly, some of the best young adult novels available to the general public. However, Michael Palin was a member of the Monty Python group, and was, indeed, the glue that held them all sanely together. So, point to Palin.
Point Number Three - Humour:
One would think, with Michael Palin's near inimitable contributions to comedy in the twentieth century (he was a part of Monty Python - I really think that's pretty self-explanatory), that he would take the Comedic Crown, but John Green is rather a clever fellow. Both of them are witty, reasonably random, glorious in their idiosyncracy and endlessly optimistic (it would seem, though for John Green the optimism would actually be like more of a distorted pessimism). However, that extra push from Python just tips the scales in Michael's favor on this one, so. Point to Palin.
Point Number Four - Nationality:
Well, much as I love John Green, he's just rather stubbornly American born and bred. Michael Palin, by way of contrast, is rather gloriously English. Point to Palin, irrevocable point to Palin.
So, that comes out to John Green: 1 and Michael Palin: 3
It was close, but ultimately, Michael Palin is the most delicious man alive to 14-year-old, anglophile, Python-loving, hetereosexual, nerdy girls.
Monday, October 1, 2007
Regardless, Mason expressed shirt envy today, engaging me in a very short and slightly awkward conversation until we had to go our merry ways. BUT. AHAHA. He will, most undoubtably, be in the library tomorrow during lunch. So. WEll.
I know, the fickle pathetic nature of the schoolgirl heart is truly shocking.
Additionally, Maureen Johnson is awesome.