Portside Wonderland

Rumpelstiltskin and how to write a good hero

2012-02-01T12:16:00.000-08:00

Two confessions: Number 1, I am currently reading a YA novel - which shall remain nameless - that annoys me, but not to the point where I can put it down and Number 2) I am obsessed with the ABC show Once Upon A Time, more specifically, Rumpelstiltskin.

So what do these two things have in common?

Well, the reason this book annoys me is because of two things: I hate one of the love interests (yes, as usual, there's a love triangle) and the heroine, which we'll call C, is lusting after her two interests in the same way. Like, whenever they touch her, her body reacts in the same way. The author tries to differentiate it, but I'm sorry. It doesn't work. The reactions aren't the same.

To me, this strikes me as impossible. If you're falling for two different guys, your feelings and reactions for and to them will be different. The way Johnny Depp makes me feel is way different than the way Robert Downey, Jr. makes me feel. My body reacts differently. The way they make me happy is different. I'm attracted to different things about them. Why? Because they're two different people.

The way C feels about her two boys is the same. Why? Because essentially, the author writes the same character. Both guys are hot, they're jealous, they make C feel hot. What else? Um, nothing really, because their characters aren't fully fleshed out.

As a reader, I'm supposed to sympathize with C. But how can I, when her body gets all hot and bothered around these two guys? I get that sex is on her mind. I used to be a teenager. I get it. But I need more than hotness in a guy, and I need it even more in a character I'm supposed to fall for. Because C equates these feelings with love, it makes me lose respect for her and I don't care what happens to her.

And regarding the first point? I hate her Love Option 1. He's jealous, selfish, and pushy. He doesn't care that their love is forbidden and that she could get into deep trouble - possibly die - because of it. He pushes her for information about her past when, quite frankly, it's none of his business. And because C likes the guy, I dislike C.

So where does Rumpelstiltskin come in?

He's the perfect hero because he's not a hero. He's not good looking (to the general population. I find him delectable myself), he's manipulative, and he doesn't care about anyone but himself. There's something creepy about him. And yet, whenever I see him, my body responds to him. Without giving you too much information, I'm drawn to the character way more than Prince Charming/David, or Graham/The Huntsman.

A hero is more than just eye candy. He has to be, especially in books since we can't physically see him. He has to have individual traits, flaws, and something that makes him unique. He needs to be his own character.

I'm incredibly bias because I really like mysterious, brooding characters. There's just something about them that attracts me. Who cares if they're selfish when they have no problem owning up to it, and are probably even proud of it? Who cares if they're not the best looking person out there? That makes them way more interesting. A bad thing to do when attempting to write a decent love-triangle is to make it lopsided, where every reader roots for the same guy. The worst thing you can do is write a love triangle where the reader doesn't even care who the heroine ends up with because you don't care about her and her potential mates.

Putting a book down

2012-01-28T09:47:00.000-08:00

Hey you, reading that book you're not so into?

Yeah, you.

It's okay to stop reading.

I've done it a few times. A part of me doesn't like to do it because I feel like I'm quitting, I'm giving up, or I've invested a lot of time into this story, and while I can't seem to care about the characters and can predict the plot from a mile away, it feels wrong to just set it down.

Set it down.

Don't waste your time. It will frustrate you to see how a book this bad could be published. The characters will enrage you to the point where you want to throw the book across the room. And then, when everyone starts to get really into the book, you want to scream at them because, hello, this is the worst book ever written. Why can't anyone see that?

Trust me. I've been there.

You're not going to get a reward for following through and finishing the story. If anything, your brother will ask you, "Don't you like Book?"

To which you'll reply, "Um, no."

And he'll be all, "Then why'd you read all of them." And then rub it in at various points in your life because he's going to hold it against you for that long.

It's okay to put the book down. You didn't fail. The author did. Don't waste your time.

Heath Ledger

2012-01-22T09:14:00.000-08:00

Hey guys.

So it's January 22.

22.

It's also the anniversary of Heath Ledger's passing. I can't explain why, but for whatever reason, I have this strange connection to him, more so now that he's gone than I ever did when he was alive. As such, I like to make it a point to remember him on this day.

Today, I plan to watch 10 Things I Hate About You in honor of him. It's one of my favorite chick flicks (and one of my favorite Shakespeare plays). It's my little way of letting him know that we remember him. It's not much, but it's something.

Taking fate into your own hands

2012-01-21T09:35:00.000-08:00

Society's a pretty interesting thing, isn't it? The double standards, the expectations, the social norms that are constantly changing...

This is for all the girls who have a guy they want to ask out (or are waiting for a guy to ask them out). As you well know, I'm a big believer in signs. In the universe. In that I am exactly where I am supposed to be. In everything happens for a reason.

Since my April breakup with Goatboy, I've been very resistant to relationships. Even now, I cannot picture myself ever getting married. Not that I don't want to, I just can't picture it. Yet. I haven't met That Guy. And really, I don't want to meet him yet. I'm only 22.

However, I find myself wanting to date. Casually. Just for fun. And I had a particular guy in mind that I wanted to take that chance with. So I talked to fate, and I said, "Listen, if you give me this opportunity, if you put me in this position, I promise I won't waste it."

As we all know, the universe works in mysterious ways. The guy turned out to have a girlfriend (or a date or a female friend, whatever signified that perhaps he wasn't looking to date anyone else at the moment) but at the event, I met someone else, someone I briefly interacted with in November. We fell back into easy conversation, and before I knew it, I gave him my number.

In a way, I'm glad Guy #1 was taken (or seemingly taken). Now I'm free to choose whoever I might find interesting enough to date. I'm not tied down, and I refuse to wait for anyone. I feel empowered, as though I can pick and choose which guys I want to hang out with and which guys I don't.

So girls: why not take fate into your own hands and ask a guy out? You can make it really casual, like offering to be a tour guide to a new guy in town (that's the one I used), tell him, "Hey, I'd love to buy you a drink some time" (my original line on Guy #1 - IF you're of age, of course), or, if you're not, "We should grab coffee some time." As common sensical as it sounds, you don't have to be like, "Do you want to go out with me?" It can be casual and fun and noncommittal, like, "We should hang out." That way, you put the power in his hands. If he wants to hang, he'll call/text/Facebook, whatever. If not, so what? The world is at your feet, with guys just waiting to hang out with you.

Go for it. Don't wait around. How else is the universe going to take what you want seriously if you don't think it's risky enough to take a chance on?

Luck

2012-01-13T12:52:00.000-08:00

The Ducks went streaking, my friends, winning three games (at home) in a row. And then, last night (my grandfather's would-be birthday), they tied it up 0-0 and lost in overtime. However, I'm not too worried. Why, you may ask? Because if you watched the game, you saw that they played really, really well. Which gives me hope.

But Heather, you say, today is Friday, the Thirteenth. Aren't you worried about that?

Pshh, no.

Friday the Thirteenth has been especially lucky in my family and I have no problem transferring my luck to my team for tonight's game.

Some great news for the Ducks, though? Corey Perry was named to the AllStar Game. Um, as if there was any doubt. But congrats to Corey, who definitely deserves the honor.

Some big news in terms of writing: I've chopped Stranger in the Mirror in half. Like, I cut out two main characters and their storylines and made them secondary characters. You might think I'd be upset at all the time and effort I put into writing - by hand! - their stories only to end up having them cut up.

You'd be wrong.

I decided it because with four characters, there was too much going on. As much as I love Brielle and Elle, I was doing a disservice to the story by writing their stories in conjunction with Sophie and Jane's, when the latter plotline is the most important. Even my writing reflected that my passion favored the first two compared to the second group.

And, when I did it, it felt right.

Of course, there will be much more editing to make sure everything flows better, much more work, but I k.now that it will be worth it

You guys, I am so excited about this book. I can't wait to share it with you. And these changes, no matter how drastic, will make it even better. I promise.

Revisions and rewriting and reviewing

2012-01-03T21:57:00.000-08:00

Today, my holiday officially ended.

Today, I began revisions for Stranger in the Mirror. It was the longest, most exhausting novel I've ever written, but definitely the most satisfying. And, as I read what I've written - making necessary grammar/spelling/plot/character changes, I still believe that. I am so proud of this novel. It's going to take lots of work to polish it, but even though it's exhausting, it was and still is so totally worth it.

Today, I began writing my new WIP. Well, I should say, rewriting it. I had written a mystery-hockey story earlier this year. I queried, and while some commented on its uniqueness and I got one partial request, no one bit. I put it aside, wrote other things.

But I had to write this story. Had to. The idea wouldn't let me go.

So I changed it. A bit. Instead of a chick-lit mystery, it will be a YA contemporary mystery. Instead of 3 POV characters, there will be 4. Instead of typing it up, I'll be writing it out first. I have 8 hockey books - everything from a coffee table book with big pictures to more focused books about superstition and rivalries and more. One book is written by Bruce Boudreau, a coach (yes, the Ducks coach). I'm planning to buy a couple of books written by referees and other coaches and players. Plus, I watch every single Ducks game I can, and, when there's nothing on TV and no Law and Order: SVU marathons on, I'll flip over to NHL Network and watch a repeat of a previous game just because I love this sport, whether the Ducks are playing or not.

I want this book to be authentic and to show just how amazing this game is while maintaining well-rounded characters and interesting relationships. So I'm writing it out by hand, like with Stranger in the Mirror, and then typing it up.

I was excited about my initial story, excited to write about hockey through three girls' POV. Now, I'm ecstatic. I'm brimming with excitement at rewriting to make the manuscript even better than it is.

Rewriting is daunting. Besides key scenes here and there, I don't really rewrite because I plan so much before actually writing the story. I know what I'm writing, everything's there for a reason, there's no need to excessively rewrite.

But then, rewriting is fabulous. It's taking your amazing idea - the one that had you so excited you actually finished writing a book about it - and making it better. Fleshing out characters. Adding needed subplots.

I'm 2 chapters in and looking forward to writing the best damn YA hockey book there is.

Finally, today I plotted. Reviewed an idea that's been teetering around in my mind for the past few weeks. Not on paper, but in my mind. You know me, I can't focus on one thing at one time. I have this amazing idea about a new take on angels and demons and our concept of heaven and hell. No, it's not religious. It's more about... perfection vs. imperfection. Anyways, I'm getting ahead of myself.

I've been doing a lot today and I can't help but... smile. :) It's like I said, I'm excited. Ecstatic. This is how I know I was born to be a writer.

9

2011-12-31T14:40:00.000-08:00

I love Numerology. I love numbers. But not math. Or physics.

2011 was my 9 Personal Year, which means things coming to an end. And, in truth, that happened. I lost friends. I broke up with my boyfriend. I finished community college. And, to top it all off, I finished the most exhausting novel I've ever written. But it's the one I'm definitely most proud of. (It's 27 chapters and I finished it on the 27th. Sign?)

I'm looking forward to next year. It's my 1 Personal Year, which means the cycle starts over. Things begin.

I have 2 New Years' resolutions that I intend to keep just to myself. They're my secrets, my internal goals. I also have 3 goals I don't mind sharing with you.

1. Write. But not just write. Finish the two novels I have mapped out. Start the (or finish, depending on how long the first two novels take) Stranger in the Mirror sequel.

2. Believe. In life. In love. But most importantly, in myself. Take chances. Remember that life is a gift and that I am an incredibly lucky human being just to be alive.

3. Watch. Ducks games, obviously. As much as I can. And when I can't, listen to them online, in the car, however I can. We have yet to start a streak, but I can feel it coming. Believe in them. Support them. And, more than anything, never, ever give up on them.

So, in total, 5 Resolutions. 5 also happens to be my life path number, by the way.

See? It's all in the numbers.

Miracles, Christmas and Otherwise

2011-12-24T11:57:00.000-08:00

First off, let me start by wishing each and every one of you happy holidays. Whatever you celebrate, I hope you're happy, warm, and safe.

Today, I want to address miracles since Christmas is tomorrow and nearly every Christmas movie has some version of a miracle. Of course, I want to make it clear that I'm not trying to say miracles occur only during Christmas or only for those who celebrate Christmas. Miracles can happen to anyone at any time anywhere.

First off, let me start by saying wholeheartedly that I believe in miracles. I tend to view them, however, in a similar way I view love: I believe in love but it's hard for me to imagine falling in love any time soon. Same with miracles.

The more I got to thinking, the more I started realizing that perhaps I have to be part of my own miracle.

Let me give you an example:  my Ducks aren't doing so great. Like, they're losing way more than they're winning. As fans, we want to see our team play, especially when we know there's such talent on the team.  Even if they lose, we want to see them play like they care.

That hasn't been happening recently.

It's easy to start to think negatively, to point the finger, to demand trades/firings. I'm sure a lot of people go into the game thinking the Ducks are going to lose. Our opponents might not even take us seriously anymore.

Fine.

Here's the thing: I firmly believe that your beliefs can be put into actions, whether you're conscious of it or not. If fans or players go into the game, waiting to make a mistake, waiting for the other team to score, it's going to happen.

What the team needs now, in my very humble opinion, is support. Every time I flick on the television, I believe with all my heart that they're going to win.  Every time I step into the Honda Center, I believe with all my heart that they're going to win. There have been a couple of times I've caught myself cursing the other team or yelling at our players (yes, I yell at the TV. Don't deny you don't do it too.), but when we do something great, I'll grumble, "Well, that's what you're paid for, isn't it?"

It's totally negative and totally not me!

A Christmas miracle would be for us to win our next game - a road game - against one of our rivals, the San Jose Sharks. And then, win two in a row. And then three. And then start a streak. But in order for a miracle to actually occur, we first have to believe in miracles and believe that we have the power to cause them.

I can't play hockey, and even if I could, I couldn't go play goalie for Jonas Hiller. That's his job. But I can believe in him. I can believe in every player, every coach, and every fan.

Instead of yelling at my television Monday night, I'm going to try and focus on the positives, even when we lose. I might be only one person, but even a little can go a long way.

Expectations and Plotting

2011-12-21T20:07:00.000-08:00

As you guys know, I'm a plotter.

With my current MS, I had a general idea of my characters and their story but I didn't actually write down specific plans of where I wanted this to go (besides a few notes to remind myself of important things). About halfway through, I knew where I wanted to take the story, so I wrote one sentence plots for each character in each chapter.

Except, as I'm learning, my characters pull me in another direction in order to make sure I tell their story rather than their story through my point of view.

For instance, today, I was supposed to have my MC, Sophie, make up with her love interest Will after a tense fight. Instead, she basically tells him she deserves better than some guy who runs away when things get tough, who doesn't build relationships with people so he doesn't get hurt. Will's a good guy, don't get me wrong, and he'll continue to be Sophie's love interest. But after writing that - being possessed by Sophie's spirit, more likely - I was so proud of her.

One day, you guys will read the scene I'm talking about, and I hope you're proud of her too. It should be noted, though, that the scene wasn't exactly written in the stars, but Sophie made me write it down anyways.

22

2011-12-16T16:08:00.000-08:00

Do you guys have favorite numbers, or numbers that just randomly keep popping up in your life?

Mine is 22. There are many things that have happened to me on the 22nd of the month. My uncle died on the 22nd. My grandfather died on the 22nd. Johny Dillinger was both born and died on the 22nd. Goatboy and I broke up on the 22nd.

The 22nd of every month used to unnerve me. It was never a great day. Sometimes it wasn't horrible, but it was below normal.

November 30th, I turned 22. Beforehand, I was worried. I didn't want this year to be meh. Below normal. But the crazy thing is - this year has been pretty boss.

Take my birthday for example. Last year, celebrating my 21st, I rented a small yacht and had 20 of my friends and a Jack Sparrow impersonator party and dance as we sailed up and down the harbor. This year, my mom picked up a specially designed Ducks carrot cake (my favorite), my brother got me a couple of DVDs, and then me and my brother went to a Ducks game where we snapped a losing streak and won 4-1 over the Canadiens. It wasn't a huge birthday, I celebrated it with pretty much my family, and I didn't do anything too special. But it was perfect. My team won. My day was pretty good. And I didn't have to worry about friends having fun and a boyfriend remembering that yes, today was my birthday.

Since then? I've been happier. Much happier than I was at 21. It's like I'm owning 22, and it hasn't even been a month yet.

And now, I'm looking forward to the 22nd. I can't wait to see what every new day will bring. Because, for whatever reason, I know I'll be able to handle it.

Try and catch me now, 21!

Dear Anaheim Ducks,

2011-11-30T09:53:00.000-08:00

Today is my birthday, and, in celebration, me and my brother are going to the game tonight.

I won't be holding up a sign that tells everyone that I was born twenty-two years ago. My picture won't be on the scoreboard. I'm not going to ask you for kisses or propose marriage to you. The only thing I want from you tonight is a win. Because I know you can win.

There's no need to fire people, to trade anyone, to snatch captaincy away. You have all the parts you need.

I still and will continue to believe in you, no matter what happens. Because that's what fans do.

I may not be able to go to every game, but I watch every game. I may not be able to purchase all of your merchandise or go to watch parties or attend all of the amazing activities you hold every year. I still don't understand certain things, especially player stats and why people get kicked out of a faceoff. But I believe in you.

I'm looking forward to watching you play tonight. Hockey is something that makes me so incredibly happy, so thank you for providing me with that, especially with a home game on my birthday.

Good luck tonight and all the best!

Sincerely,
Heather

Traditions

2011-11-24T09:38:00.000-08:00

This isn't a post on Thanksgiving or what I should be thankful for (lots of things, I know!) or anything like that. I feel like Facebook has that covered.

Today, I want to talk about D.B. Cooper. 40 years ago today, the man we barely know anything about completely changed the way we view traveling in the sky. First and foremost, he was an air pirate. Nuff said, as far as I'm concerned. Secondly, D. B. Cooper wasn't even his real name. Third, he got away with $200,000 and was never heard from again. Finally? His case is the only hijacking case in American history to be unsolved.

You all know my love for gangsters, and while this one lived in 1971, it's still hard not to admire the guy.

Up in Washington, people are gathering this weekend in order to honor the legend that is D. B. Cooper. I entered a poetry contest with him being the prompt. If you're interested in reading it, you can find it here. If you want more information on D. B. Cooper, I'd suggest buying the book SKYJACK: The Hunt For D. B. Cooper by Geoffrey Gray. It's amazing, let me tell you.

Okay, I lied: Happy Thanksgiving! Keep tradition - whatever that tradition may be - alive. And, as long as I'm alive, so will D. B. Cooper. And Dillinger. And Karpis. And many, many more.

In which I talk about fashion

2011-11-23T10:37:00.000-08:00

Let's get one thing straight: I have no idea about fashion. A lot of the time, I flip through those sections of my magazines without even a second glance because a) I don't really care and b) the clothes are just not my taste.

I don't really a have a "style," so to speak. I guess if I had to label it, it would be comfortable mixed with conservative-classy, with hints of edge every now and then. Yeah, I tend not to fit anywhere, really. But that's okay.

So why am I talking about this?

Last Friday, I went to my charity event in a beautiful dress that I looked pretty damn good in. But I didn't feel comfortable. I knew I looked good but I felt like I was faking it, like this wasn't me. Like I was pretending to be someone I wasn't. Luckily, my friend was there and kicked my butt about saying so and I enjoyed the night.

But!

I realized that clothes that typically are supposed to make girls feel beautiful: prom dresses, wedding dresses, that sort of thing; and sexy: mini skirts, short dresses, don't really make me feel that way, whether I know I look good in them or not.

As such, I found that the clothes I feel sexy in are simply jeans and a t-shirt, flip flops, converses, or a pair of amazing boots. That's me. My hair's down. I have minimal if any makeup on. I can't explain why, but in that outfit, I have swagger. In a cocktail dress, I'm afraid everyone can tell I'm pretending.

And then this led to an even bigger realization - which, for you fashion people, is probably common sense and I apologize for my ignorance - Fashion isn't about what you wear, but what you feel when you wear clothes.

Confidence is sexy, and I feel confident in jeans. Ergo, if I'm meeting someone important - a hockey player, perhaps? - I should probably dress jeans. No, I probably won't reveal too much skin and thus won't be dubbed as 'sexy,' but I'll be myself and as cheesy as that sounds, that's what matters.

So wear whatever it is that makes you comfortable. Be confident, because when you are, you shine.

*On a related note, my mother and I were heading to the grocery store, and I turned to her and said, "I feel like a supermodel today." She turned to me and said, "You should feel like a supermodel every day."

So every time I step out of the house, I try and think like that: I don't care if I'm wearing sweats or jeans or a sundress, I pretend I'm a supermodel on a runway. And you should feel that way too because in one way or the other, aren't we all supermodels? (Okay, I know, I know, that was bad.)

Quick update

2011-11-19T09:11:00.000-08:00

Um, hi.

I'm sorry I've been AWOL lately. My mother and I have both experienced unrelated, non-life threatening medical emergencies which have rendered me pretty much without a social life (and missing one hockey game) more so than usual and running around doing everything since my mother couldn't. My poor car, unused to this new strain, died so it's being towed to my auto shop today.

This, of course, has resulted me in missing more classes than I would have liked (though, realistically speaking, I don't like to miss class at all).

Which has subsequently resulted in me dropping out of NanoWriMo. Inspiration has run dry, as Natalie Imbruglia, would sing and I simply don't have the time. However, hope is not lost: once I finish with finals, I plan to use my three-ish weeks of winter break to make up for it.

Speaking of which, I registered for classes next quarter: 4 classes back-to-back, on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I've never crammed all my classes on two days a week before, but since I refuse to take night classes, that's how it ended up. We'll see what happens...

Yesterday night, Jeshicka and I went to my hockey charity event. It was fun but not what I expected. I met a lot of the players - all of whom were extraordinary - and we had a fun night. And no, I didn't even have to use any of my pre-planned conversations.

Today is my mother's birthday. Me and my brother got her some spa gift certificates - which she needs and totally deserves - and a card.

Finally, the Ducks have only won 2 out of their last 14 games. It totally bums me out because I know they're better than this, but I have faith that they'll pull through. Somehow they always do.

Halloween, NaNo, and Movember

2011-10-31T21:23:00.000-07:00

NaNo WriMo starts tomorrow.

I wasn't going to participate. I write when I write and that's pretty much how I've been doing things since, well, I've been writing. I produce at least four thousand words a week, something I'm content with given the hectic load I have to deal with in terms of academics.

Speaking of which, I'm so swept up in school to the point where that was my primary reason to not do this. (I'm not going to lie, school is a big reason why my writing has definitely fallen to the wayside.)

But I've come to realize something: writing keeps me sane. It gives me something to hold onto at a pretty chaotic time in my life. I need to write.

So I'm going to. No, I don't think I'll get 50,000 words and no, I'm not going to hold myself to it. If anyone can put a ridiculous amount of pressure on me, it's me, and I do that enough with school. So whatever I accomplish will be more than if I chose not to participate, which, for me, is enough.

*A quick note! I have two projects I'm currently working on: one is in the editing process while the second one is ten chapters in what I'm hoping is a thirty chapter YA novel. However, I'm setting the latter aside in order to start an entirely new project that's been pestering me for a while. That's my main focus for NaNo. BUT if inspiration strikes for my second project, I have no qualms writing that as well.

**Starting tomorrow is Movember. It's where men, today, shave their moustaches/facial hair and then let it grow out for the entire month in order to bring awareness to men's health, especially prostate cancer. Yes, it's a hockey thing but it should definitely be talked about more. If you want to learn more about it, feel free to go here.

Happy Halloween (surprise, surprise I'm a pirate), Happy NaNo (good luck and have fun!), and Happy Movember!

Rekindling the flame

2011-10-28T09:25:00.000-07:00

Midterms kicked my butt. Not in the oh-man-I-totally-bombed-them, but I've-been-studying-so-hard-my-brain-is-going-to-explode.

Luckily it didn't. And luckily, I survived last week. I thought it would be fast since I had three midterms back-to-back. It wasn't.

But it's over.

Last week was horrible for writing, though. I was uber focused on midterms and I looked at writing - for the first time in a while - as a job. I didn't do any this week. Yesterday was a day I still had to go to school despite being completely burned out in order to start the learning process in preparation for finals all over again.

But I started writing again. And it was like a breath of fresh air.

Tonight, my friend and I are going to Disneyland for Mickey's Haunted Halloween Party. It's been planned since the beginning of October, like a present for suffering through midterms. I'm really, really excited.

And the cherry on top? The Ducks broke a 3-game losing streak last night, beating Minnesota 3 to 2.

Girling out

2011-10-26T19:57:00.000-07:00

I am such a girl.

And I love it.

I grew up as a tomboy. I played soccer and my friends were pretty much guys and I never wore dresses or skirts unless I was attending something formal.

I like to think of myself now as a feminine tomboy. I still love jeans, but I realize my legs look nice in dresses and skirts and I'm addicted to boots and eyeliner makes my eyes pop. (Although, I do digress, unless I'm going out with my friends, I totally forgo makeup. I'm just too darn lazy.)

Remember how I told you about that hockey charity event I'm going to? Well, it's coming up. Like, soon. And I have to be a girl. It's a cocktail party, after all. As such, I ordered my shoes from Target.com (which you can see here) early because I need to break in the shoes and, you know, make sure I can walk in them.

Ahem.

I also bought makeup, and, okay, I totally girled out. I was at Target and was bombarded with cheap but high-end makeup. I bought everything I needed for the night (including three brushes for eyeshadow) for $22. (My shoes were just less that $20.) The makeup is e.l.f. by the way. The website is here if you're interested.

Finally, I found the hairstyle I'm going to attempt.

Note that I said attempt.

Last thing I need to get are earrings.

As things start coming together, I'm getting more and more excited. When do I ever get a chance to dress up like some kind of cynical, closet-romantic Cinderella off to a ball filled with hockey players? Um, never.

So I'm going all out, and that means girling out too.

I'll let you know how my progress goes. I am planning on practicing the hairstyle and the makeup before the actual day of the event. You know me; I am a perfectionist after all. But I'm even excited about the practicing.

Because I love being a girl and doing girly things. While still talking about hockey, of course.

Hey you

2011-10-23T11:41:00.000-07:00

Yeah, you.

I just wanted to remind you that you're important. And beautiful. And the guy/girl you're crushing on does notice you, but you overthink too much and try to talk yourself out of hope to protect your heart.

But guess what? The heart was built for this kind of pain. I've learned that my heart is one of the most reliable, crazy, and spontaneous organs I have (and seems to have a fighting brother-sister relationship with my head. Why can't they ever agree?). It gets beat up. Like, a lot. But it's still in there, beating, waiting for The One to walk into my life. (My head still doesn't believe in this romanticism, but my heart is waning on it.)

It hopes.

My mind, it tries to keep me focused on what's really plausible.

I'm ashamed to say that the past year or so, I've been leaning more on my mind. My heart's been through the ringer and I want to protect it from the excruciating pain of disappointment.

But my heart doesn't need nor does it want that protection. It wants the opportunity to take a chance, and if it hurts, well then it hurts. It doesn't matter.

My mind likes to be in control. My heart? Not so much. It lives to be out of control. And for someone as organized as I am, this is scary. Letting go, giving my heart the reigns, terrifies me. But I think I'm ready to start taking chances again.

Which means that I need a little reassurance. A confidence boost, if you will. Then, as I kept thinking about it, I realized we all need pick-me-ups.

So you - yes, you.

You're beautiful. And funny. And smart. And talented. You are perfect. You are going to be okay in life. The world is a better place because YOU are in it. And before you ask, yes, I truly believe anything in life is possible. You just have to let your heart take over in order to start believing it yourself.

Taking a break

2011-10-21T13:37:00.000-07:00

I should apologize for the lack of updates these past couple of weeks. They've been incredibly hectic, thanks to midterms next week and me getting over being sick. I've barely read for fun, barely written anything. It's pretty much school, school, school.

And that's great... until it isn't.

Looking on the bright side, as I try to do, I needed this break from my creative side. I needed to focus on school until I simply couldn't anymore.

Because I didn't force myself to write, when I started writing again, the words flowed from my mind to my pen to the sheet of paper. I got new ideas that I didn't know I needed until I received them. They fit with my story perfectly.

It's scary to take a break. I understand completely. You feel like you're lazy or you're giving up or that writing has fallen to the wayside and you're not sure you'll ever get it back to being a priority. But everyone needs a break from everything sometimes. And with that break comes inspiration and a renewed enthusiasm for writing.

So take a break. Calm down. Watch TV. Listen to music. Take a walk. Study. (And study, and study.) Go to a hockey game. (Might I suggest the Ducks game tonight against the Dallas Stars at 7PM? Anyone? Anyone?) Then, when the time comes, and it will and you'll know, write. Because once you start up again, you might not stop.

And that's the best feeling in the world for any writer.

Music Monday

2011-10-10T16:45:00.000-07:00

1) blink-182's "All of This." I've mentioned this song before, but seriously, I cannot get enough of it. I got the CD a few weeks ago and I've listened to this song nearly one hundred times. It's a simple song and the verses tend to repeat, but you can feel what the singer's going through. That, paired with Tom Delonge's bridge of "Use me, Holly, come on and use me" gets me every time.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DcV958thzYc

2) Demi Lovato's "Unbroken." This song is just perfection. It's edgy but hopeful, strong but vulnerable. You can hear the power and determination in her voice. I love it because when she gets to the chorus and tells her guy, "I'm gonna love you like I've never been broken," I want to sound as sure as she is about falling in love and not worrying about if he's there to catch her or not. It's inspiring but still such a great song to dance to.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j5xPYKLJZAo

3) Lady Antebellum's "As You Turn Away." This song is just heartbreaking. I've listened to a lot of sad songs since Goatboy and I broke up, and this is one of the few that manages to capture what I felt during that time but in a way that makes it relatable to everyone. My heart always clenches hearing Hillary's voice crack when she sings, "The door is closing and I just can't change it..."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nbp_7mPz9Vo

Sunshine Sunday

2011-10-09T08:56:00.000-07:00

1) Hockey. I know, I know, this one's obvious but after yesterday's game (triple overtime, an amazing winning goal from Bobby Ryan), I'm even more excited for games than ever. Friday is the Ducks home opener and then Sunday is Corey Perry Night in honor of him winning the Hart Trophy!

2) Music. Evanescence has their first album out in five years. I love Amy Lee's haunting voice. It'll be interesting to see where where the primarily new (besides Amy) band takes their music and I'm definitely looking forward to it.

3) I get my dress back. Remember the dress I'm wearing to the charity event I was tellig you about? I had to take it in to a tailor's in order to get cups so I wouldn't fall out (if you know what I mean). Once I get the dress back, all I need for the event is makeup, jewelry, and shoes!

What about you? Anything you're excited for?

Unconventional ships

2011-10-08T09:29:00.000-07:00

We all have 'em: our favorite ships. It's one of the reasons we watch a particular show, they inspire us to write numerous fanfiction, and, if the ship is unconventional, the mere chemistry between the two characters is the soul reason we shippers keep our hope even though it's most likely never going to happen. Below are my favorite ships, some unconventional, some not, in no particular order:

1) Penny and Sheldon from The Big Bang Theory. I'm all about opposites attracting and balance, and these two have that in spades. Plus, the undeniable chemistry between the two actors is just sizzling. I know Sheldon's supposed to be above romantic entanglements, but he's still a man, and if anyone can convert him - however tentatively - it would be Penny. Plus, please tell me that you too saw how he looked at her in the pilot?

2) Jeff and Annie from Community. When I first started shipping this couple, I'll admit it was a pipe dream. Older guy, younger girl is rarely portrayed realistically on television despite the fact that age gaps do happen in life. The chemistry between Joel McHale and Alison Brie, like the actors above, is undeniable. Instead of denying it like the producers and writers of The Big Bang Theory, Dan Harmon, creator of Community, decided to use it. And now, as crazy and as unconventional as it seems, Jeff and Annie is canon. See? Dreams do come true.

3) Booth and Brennan from Bones. I know, I know. Totally canon. But I love those two together. They just make me so incredibly happy. It'll be interesting to see how the (SPOILER ALERT) baby will affect them. I can't wait!

4) House and Thirteen from House, MD. Never going to happen, I know. The chemistry is great, and out of all the potential people House could be with, I seriously think Thirteen would never ask him to change and accept him for who he is. (It should be noted that in the first couple of seasons, I shipped House and Cameron, but then she got all crazy and I just went, "No.")

5) Sookie and Eric from True Blood. Please don't tell me I have to explain this one. Seriously, I get burned just watching the two of them interact.

Bonus 6) Gibbs and Abby from NCIS. I don't really watch this show, but if any couple defines unconventional, it's these two, but I can't help it. I love them. They, too, have chemistry.

Obviously chemistry is big for me. So are the looks that pass between the actors (characters?) that might or might not be on purpose but are nonetheless there. Logic has nothing to do with it, though I think I could give a good argument for all of these couples about why they should be together. For me, though, it's more of a gut reaction, that these two should be together. And I just go with my gut, more so than with my head. Which explains a lot.

What are your favorite television ship and why?

Fictionpress Friday

2011-10-07T15:59:00.000-07:00

Tip #4: Write a good first chapter

Catchy title? Check.

Piquing summary? Check.

It's time to write your first chapter.

Here are some tips to keep in mind as you do so:

1) Good grammar and spelling is a must! I know that Fictionpress doesn't have a screening process, but you're representing you and your work. To be taken seriously, make sure your work is the best it can be. I understand there might be an instance where time is short and you can't edit it. I always write a little note apologizing for my errors just to let my readers know I'm aware of them.

Also, I understand that once you finish a chapter - especially the first one - you're super excited to post it. I've felt this and I've done it. But please, wait. Sleep on the chapter for at least a day so your eyes will be clear and focused and able to spot any errors than you might editing the same day as writing it.

2) Introduce your couple, or, if there isn't romance in your story,your main characters to your readers. We don't need to know everything, but we need to know enough in order to care about them. If we care about them, more than likely we'll invest in the story and follow it to its completion.

3) End on a cliff-hanger. As a reader, I hate it, but as a writer I know my readers will come back to find out what happened (especially if I've made my characters likeable, and if I update my story regularly <-- more on that later!).

4) Introduce the conflict of the story. It doesn't have to be detailed, but we need to be aware of potential problems the MC will face. It goes hand in hand with caring about the characters.

Writing Wednesday: Gary-Stus

2011-10-05T12:52:00.000-07:00

I have a confession: I still watch Disney movies.

As a blonde, I tend to gravitate towards other blonde heroines in order to find a physical similarity of which I can relate.

But I'm not drawn towards the blonde Disney Princesses (Rapunzel doesn't count because SPOILER ALERT she was originally a brunette. I was not happy with that surprise.) Anyways, I digress. The reason I'm not drawn to Cinderella or Aurora or Snow White (besides the fact that she has raven-colored hair) is because, quite frankly, their princes are kind of lame. And if a girl falls for a lame prince, then her whole character is suspect.

Belle and Pochanhontas and Jasmine and Mulan (I know, I know, she's technically not a princess. But I've met her more times at Disneyland's Princess Parade than Pochahontas. In fact, I still haven't met Pochahontas, and I frequent Disneyland pretty often!) have great male opposites because while they're imperfect, they're likeable.

(I know that Ariel has been left off the list and I'll tell you why: while I adore her character and while I admit Eric is very nice to look at, he's clueless. Oh, and I'm not looking at princesses after Mulan.)

Aladdin is a "street rat." There's no way he can ever give Jasmine the life she's use to. But he fights for her, first by lying to her and claiming to be a prince and then literally, against Jafar.

John Smith is ambitious. He likes adventure and exploring and immersing himself into new things. That curiosity eventually gets him in trouble, subsequently forcing him back home, parting himself from Pochahontas forever. (I know that the second movie and real life differ, but I don't care. I'm in denial.)

Shang is prideful but fair, an excellent military man. He's disciplined and cautious, strict and blunt. But he believes in Mulan, even when the safest bet is to go against her, a woman.

Beast has a temper. He yells and throws things and he's arrogant and selfish. But he learns. He saves Belle's life and lets her father go, wanting her happiness before his own.

Obviously these men aren't perfect. But that's what makes them real and interesting and men we girls would fall in love with.

That's the secret with writing heroes. Make them men you'd want to fall in love with (or want to be friends with). You know when you first start dating a guy and he has this annoying habit that you find endearing? That's an imperfection. Everyone has them, and sometimes (let's face it - most of the time) those are imperfections we fall in love with.

Perfect guys are boring. Lame. They have nothing to learn, which makes them stagnant.

Make them real because ultimately it's the real guys we fall in love with.

Sunshine Sunday

2011-10-02T08:08:00.000-07:00

1) The Ducks arrived in Finland safe and sound! Tuesday, they have an exhibition game in Helsinki and then their season opener Friday in Finland against the Sabres and Saturday in Sweden against the Rangers.

2) South Park and House, M.D. start back up! I love those shows (I really am hoping House steps it up!)

3) It's October! This is one of my favorite months (after November, of course!), and even though I live in the stagnant Southern California, the sunsets are beautiful, the trees change, the leaves fall... I love it. Plus, there's Halloween and Halloween at both Disneyland and Knott's Berry Farm (traditions me and Jeshicka will not give up!). The only downside is that all of my midterms are this month as well. Eh. We all have to take them. Oh, and best of all, hockey season officially starts!

4) I found my dress for the Ducks charity event! It's navy blue and a couple of inches from my knees from Victoria's Secret. Now if only tickets would come on sale... (Here)

5) My mom's getting a new television installed this week. It's better than our new one and she seems to be really excited about it, so I'm happy for her.

A mixture of contradictions

2011-10-01T09:39:00.000-07:00

I am obviously a girl, a young woman, a lady, or whatever politically correct term you might call a twenty-one year old female.

When I was a kid, I was a tomboy. I hung out with boys in elementary school and played six years of soccer.

Then, my body went through puberty   You know how that goes. Still, I was a tomboy.

And then I moved. I made friends that were girls and got clothes that fit my body - including bras. By thirteen, I was shaving my legs and by eighth grade, I wanted to buy thongs in order to erase the dreaded panty line. Of course, Mom said no. Apparently, I was too young.

Then high school. I'd always liked boys. My first-ever crush was on Shaggy from Scooby Doo and my first crush on a real person was (is, let's be honest) Jim Carrey.  High school introduced me to lots of boys and gave me a good reason for wearing tight jeans.

I got my ears pierced my sophomore year of high school a couple of months before my homecoming dance at Claire's. I was happy it didn't hurt, that I didn't see a needle (for whatever reason, I do not like needles. At all.), and that the process was maybe five minutes if that.

Of course, I was still somewhat of a tomboy, and as such, really didn't wear earrings after my six weeks and homecoming dance was finished.  My ears closed up. It didn't particularly bother me because I don't really wear earrings anyway.

Then college hit. I dated Goatboy. We broke up. I started at a university. During this time, I started getting more feminine. I started buying dresses (currently, I'm obsessed with dresses) and even wear them occasionally, along with pencil-skirts, heels, and cute flats. I actually do my hair when I go out rather than run a brush through it and leave it down. I shop at Forever 21.

But. As you all well know, I am obsessed with hockey. I watch every game.  If the Ducks are playing but the game isn't televised, I'll listen to it on the radio. I watch pre and post-interviews and I try to go to as much of the charity events as I can.

Which brings me to the point of this little blog: there happens to be a charity event the Ducks host every year that allows me to dress up (cocktail attire which means super-cute dress) yet immerse myself with hockey.

Which is why, yesterday, I got my ears pierced again. Not going to lie, I was a little bit nervous, but besides a quick pinch, there was still no needle, no pain, and in five minutes, I was out. I'm preparing for the event. I want to look elegant and classy and beautiful. I know that when people see me, they won't take me seriously. They might think I'm there with my family (I'm not) or that I'm there to flirt with hot hockey players (I plead the Fifth on that one), but really, I want to have conversations with people who care about the sport as much as I do. I love my friends, but they know nothing about hockey. One-sided conversations about something you love gets tiring after a while when all you want to talk about is how great Dan Ellis is. But more than that, I want to support the Anaheim Ducks Foundation and be a girl while still doing something in relation to hockey. Of course, as usual, I will be underestimated. But I'll prove them wrong. I always do.

I'm really looking forward to looking and feeling quite feminine while talking seriously and knowledgeably about something so masculine.

(Speaking of hockey, the Ducks are on a plane right now to Finland in order to open their season. I wish them the best of luck, and a safe and super-fun journey!)

Fictionpress Friday

2011-09-30T10:11:00.001-07:00

Tip #3: Have a summary that hooks your readers.

I know, it's pretty much like the Tip #2, right?

Wrong.

You could have a spiffy title but if the reader doesn't care what your story is about, they won't read it. Your summary sells your story - it's what gets people to click on the link to read your story.

Summaries are relatively easy for me. Here's what I've found works and what doesn't:

DO use dialogue between two characters (usually the hero and heroine), especially if there's a hate-love relationship and your good with dialogue.

Example: "And just so you know, love, my words are not the only pretty things in this room." "I am sure you are referring to yourself?" Oh, pirates and their pick-up lines. (From The Dead Man's Tale) You can already tell the characters are going to be flirtatious and witty, characters I'm particularly drawn to and want to read more about. (Yes, I'm bias.)

DON'T use song lyrics. Your title doesn't have to really talk about what the story is specifically about. Your summary, on the other hand, needs to give a general feel for what you plan to be writing about. Are the characters going to be antagonistic toward each other? What's your main character's obstacle? Song lyrics don't convey what a reader needs to know.

DO use only three sentences maximum for your summary. If you can, only use one. All you need is your two characters - your couple, if there will be romance - and the tension between them or the obstacles they will face.

Example: "He left his mark on her, not because he wanted to, but because he couldn't control himself when he was around her. She was his; that was all there was to it, whether he actually liked her or not. Well, they always did say love was blind" (from Losing Yourself in Me) and "Despite the fact that he was Onyx's most notorious criminal and a merciless madman, she believed that he was human. That was probably her biggest mistake" (from Fatal Attraction). You have the two characters - though who they are isn't known - and the tension between them.

DON'T use your summary to tell your readers a better one is inside. I know I'm not going to waste my time hoping to see if there is one. Your readers won't either. In fact, they may be completely turned off because you don't even know how to sell your story. And normally, the longer, "better" summary can be reduced to three sentences and tells too much of the story.

If you've won an award for your story, DO add that to your summary. An award means somebody liked your story enough to reward you. It definitely helps in generating buzz for your story (usually your story will be linked on another website, generating more advertisement for it) and, if the award is from a place people trust (SKoW, for example), they're more likely to give your story a chance, regardless of reviews.

DON'T use bad grammar and/or spelling. Common sense, right? But I've seen it, and it has completely turned me off. Bad grammar and spelling tells me that the writer is a noob and that they don't take writing seriously. If I want to use my precious time in reading someone's story, they better well have a good grasp of whatever language they're writing in. You're not texting your friends, people. You're selling your story. And, if the writer can't even write a summary with good grammar and spelling, I know there story sure as heck won't have those components and I will not waste my time trying to sift through that, regardless of compelling characters and plot.

In conclusion, a quick, snappy summary is all that's needed. It should be specific - where readers know the general plot and/or characters of the story - but vague enough where they're interested in seeing where the story goes.

What I learned my first week at an actual university

2011-09-29T20:49:00.000-07:00

So my first week at my school is finished and I've learned some things that might be useful to you - you know, if you're not already at a university or planning to go to one.

1) There's a lot of reading. And I mean a lot. At least one hundred and fifty pages of reading a week, and that's for one class. I'm taking 3. And yes, I actually do the reading, which means my eyeballs feel like they're falling out. They're not, of course, but they certainly feel like it, to the point where after I finish my reading (yes, I'm still a week ahead) I don't want to read for pleasure. I am, but not as much as I wish to. And with my eyes feeling like they're falling out, it's not totally pleasurable.

2) Professors will keep you until the very last minute. At my community college, we were released about five to ten minutes early depending on the professor. They usually don't start a new section of lecture unless they're certain they can finish it, but don't want to stop in the middle, and they also are aware we as students who had classes afterwards had only ten minutes to get to their next class if they let us out exactly when they were supposed to.

Professors at universities don't seem to care, despite the huge campus - where, even if you're running, you still might not make it to your next class in ten minutes. I'll start packing up five till, putting my three pens (three to code my notes and keep them organized) and then, instead of ending on the slide (because all professors use PowerPoints), they keep going. Then I have to take out all three pens and copy the next slide down, and at exactly three twenty, they let us go.

3) I never have to exercise again (actually, until I graduate). Because the walking is just ridiculous - in a good way. Plus, I park on the fourth, fifth, or sixth floor in the lot depending on openings and, instead of taking the elevator, I take the stairs. And no, I'm not complaining. I work out five days a week, twenty to thirty minutes each. This just adds to it. I just wish I didn't have to carry all the books and articles - which I have to read - around. But hey - my thighs are going to be even more toned than they normally would be. Ha!

4) No one can drive well except me. I don't think I need to explain that further.

What about you, university students? What have you learned?

Writing Wednesday: Mary-Sues

2011-09-28T16:43:00.000-07:00

I hate Mary-sures. Don't even get me started on Gary-Stus (We'll talk about him next week.).

But, like all first-time writers, I wrote them. I remember being a part of Fanfiction.net when it first came out and, like all girls, had a crush on a character and decided, "Hey, since I can't actually be with them in reality, I'll write a character who looks like me but prettier and who acts like me but is perfect." And, since I didn't particularly like this characteristic of the hero, I changed it.

(Don't worry, I'm cringing even as I write this.)

Then I got scathing reviews.

After I bandaged the pain, wiped my tears, and forced myself out of bed, I realized I deserved them. And more than that, I realized that perfect characters aren't that interesting to read about. As I grew as a writer, I realized that writing perfect characters is boring.

Give your characters flaws. Real flaws that real people have. For instance, my character in my pirate novel, Remy Cutler, is spoiled. She judges people based on their physical appearance and thinks she has better judgment than people beneath her station. Then, she's forced into a situation where status doesn't matter. She has to wear dirty clothes, socialize with pirates, and worst of all, is forced to wash dishes.

There's tension and - best of all - she learns.

Therein lies character development.

And the thing is, I love when Remy learns. It makes me proud, as if I was her mother. (Which, I guess, I kind of am.) Other people will too. Your readers will. They'll see she's a spoilt girl, maybe relate to her, and then develop into the person she was destined to become. Your readers will love the journey you take them on - that is, if you create a compelling enough character.

That's the key, you see.

Your reader has to care about your characters.

And if your character is perfect (I'm looking at you, Mary-Sue), no one's going to care.

Sunshine Sunday

2011-09-25T09:34:00.000-07:00

1) The real first week of school. I know, I know, I'm a nerd. But once you're done with your general education, you get classes that focus on your major and, at least, for me, I'm really psyched to learn more about mine. Oh, and since I'm a nerd, I finished all the reading for this coming week over the weekend so I don't have to worry about that!

2) Hockey. When am I not excited about hockey? The Ducks play their cross-town rivals the Kings tonight, Wednesday they head back to Vancouver, and Friday they play the Kings again. I know it's just preseason, but I'm still excited!

3) Birthdays. My dad's birthday is on Tuesday! He'll be 51 this year. He looks, maybe, like he's in his forties though. Good for him.

4) Music. blink-182's new album comes out on Tuesday as well. I love them. I can't stop listening to "All of This" (especially the bridge - it gets me every time!) and whenever "First Date" and "All the Small Things" come on, I get ridiculously, goofy-happy. I dance in my car. Definitely looking forward to this album.

5) Braces. My brother gets his braces off on Thursday. He's ecstatic. He's had them on in what feels like forever and I'm just so excited for him.

Anything you're excited for this week?

Fictionpress Friday

2011-09-23T09:30:00.000-07:00

Tip #2: Have a title that captures the reader's attention.

Titles and summaries (we'll talk about those later!) are like your pre-hooks to your first real hook (not only the first line, but the first chapter). You need a good title to get someone to read your summary; you need a good summary to get someone to read your first chapter, and if you have a good chapter? Well, you'll have them hooked.

So, titles: make them catchy and relevant to your story.

My titles are usually titles or phrases from songs that relate to my story.

For example: Saving Smiles is a phrase from Vanessa Carlton's "Pretty Baby" song: "Pretty baby don't you leave me; I've been saving smiles for you." It's a perfect song for a girl who has a crush on a guy or if just starting a romance like Christian and Andie.

Brighter Than Anyone is from Paramore's song "Brighter": So this is how it goes... Well, I would have never known. And if you have to go I'll still say that you shine brighter than anyone." It's perfect about a relationship that is probably ending, and though there's regret and sadness, there's still affection and respect, just like what happened between Christian and Andie.

Keep it short and simple, quirky but cute, and your Hook #1 should be good to go.

Life and Death and White-Out

2011-09-22T09:12:00.000-07:00

You know that saying: 'I wish life was more like a pencil, where I could erase the bad things. But life is more like a pen; I can white-out the bad things but I can still see the stain that remains.' (I know I butchered it. I'm sorry.)

Well, there's a big fat stain on our criminal justice system today.

Now, I'm going to get a little political and I hope I don't offend anyone. I'm a big proponent of individual rights and would never want to force anyone to believe what I believe simply because I think it's right, but I expect the same respect in return.

Full disclosure: I am against the death penalty in every instance. Sentencing someone to death just doesn't sit well with me, no matter how bad a defendant is, how guilty he or she is. Last night, Troy Davis was executed because the U.S. Supreme Court refused to hear his case. It apparently didn't matter that seven of the nine witnesses recanted their testimony and said that police officers coerced them to do so. It didn't matter that there was no physical evidence linking him to the crime. Today, he's dead. There's no reversing that.

I'm not saying he's innocent (though there's a likelihood he was). But I don't think he was guilty beyond a reasonable doubt and, more than that, I cannot believe that a jury can sentence a man to death simply because there are eyewitnesses. People make mistakes. Everybody lies (has no one watched House, M.D.?). How can we kill a man based on what nine people have to say, especially when seven of those people admitted to lying?

To say I'm furious is an understatement. I'm certain people have lost faith in our justice system - a good system that Americans believe in. It's flawed. And we have a responsibility to ensure that innocent men aren't sentenced to time in prison, and more than that, aren't sentenced to death. Now, I can't say I want to abolish the death penalty. But I think there definitely needs to be more stringent rules before a defendant is sentenced to death.

I guess what it comes down to is answering the question: how many stains on our justice system are we willing to have?

R.I.P. Troy Davis

Writing Wednesday: Plotter or Pantser

2011-09-21T08:57:00.000-07:00

Ah, the age-old question, is it not?

And I hate to give you a horrible, politically correct answer, but I have to: I'm both.

When I was writing my hockey mystery that kicked off this second serious bout of writing (that I'm probably going to edit the crud out of because it definitely needs it), I plotted it out practically to the detail. I wrote out the scenes and some of the dialogue because I was afraid I would forget everything. (I'm the girl who takes too many notes rather than too few because what if I don't write down something important?) Plus, longhand writing stuff has been proven to help you remember things better than typing them out. As a mystery, I couldn't forget a detail either, so it was write, write, write. Plot, plot, plot.

With my pirate mythology story, I plotted out the entire trilogy, but left out lots of details. In fact, I wrote one to three sentences about each chapter. The funny thing was that I stayed with the outline, but allowed myself to waver if need be. And waver I did. The first few chapters were outline-perfect, and then I veered off course... and tied it back together with the outline at the end. I liked that I knew where I was going (honestly, having an idea plotted out motivates me to write, and I can't claim writer's block, either) but that it wasn't as stringent as following every detail of the outline to a tee.

With my supernatural story that I'm currently writing right now, I'm a pantser. I have a a very vague idea of what needs to happen and a loose interpretation of the plot. Other than that, I write everything from scratch. I like this too. It's liberating and freeing and since I don't know what's going to happen next, I find that I'm excited to figure out what happens next. Plus, I am in love with my characters so I feel like we're going on a journey together.

I do like to outline, though. It helps me release my pent-up anticipation of writing the many, many story ideas I have bouncing around in my hand that demand my attention. Once I've written their story out in a form of an outline, they leave me alone, knowing that if I choose to write their story in more detail, I have an idea of what needs to happen for them to be satisfied.

What about you? Are you a pantser or a plotter?

Being A Nerd vs. Being Prepared

2011-09-20T16:21:00.000-07:00

I'm super-organized. I'm also super-ambitious. I strive for doing my absolute best in everything, especially academics. Good grades are essential to me, which means I do all the necessary - sometimes more - work to ensure I reach my goals.

School doesn't start until Thursday. I received a syllabus late last week for one class which says next Tuesday (Class #2) has some reading due. Reading I'm almost done with today.

When I told Jeshicka this, she laughed and called me a nerd.

I actually don't mind being called a nerd because I kind of am. I just see it as being prepared. And if being a nerd means getting good grades, then I will wear that metaphorical pocket protector badge with pride.

(Since I've admitted to my nerdiness, can I just say how excited I am for the Ducks first preseason game tonight? It's not broadcasted on TV, but I do plan on listening to the audio streamed on the site, plus reading Ducks' blogger Adam Brady's comments about it. I know, I know: NERD!)

Welcome Week

2011-09-19T16:48:00.000-07:00

Okay, so the alliteration you see today is totally not my fault. This is what my school is celebrating this week. No joke.

I was devastated. I had my third mandatory orientation (being a transfer student can be exhausting!) that conflicted with training camp for the Ducks. Obviously, academia won out and I attended the first day of Welcome Week. It wasn't all that bad, actually. Turns out, all new students get a free sweatshirt and the chancellor was pretty nice. (Of course, aren't they all nice when they're not talking to you individually?)

After that, we had a more intimate welcome from our individual schools. Social Ecology has an amazing dean. She's funny and sweet and seems to be down to earth too. Then we were introduced to some professors and the services our school provides. I was especially excited learning about the Study Abroad program, which I will do Summer '12 baby! (Yes, I worked it around the hockey schedule...)

After that, the clubs' fair was going on. My friend Jeshicka and I walked around like morons for a bit until we found the Anthropology Club (for her) and I talked to some of the Ice Hockey team (for me) about the upcoming schedule. Then we left, because I was breaking in a new flats and the parking garage was pretty far from the fair so there was much walking.

Which was fine because it's exercise, you know?

To be honest, I'm excited. Hockey starts soon. School starts soon. And while I'm a teensy bit worried about the academics, I already feel appreciated and like I belong at my school, which is nice and different and I'm looking forward to truly being a part of something academic.

Welcome Week, indeed.

Sunshine Sunday

2011-09-18T13:57:00.000-07:00

Sundays are usually reserved for relaxation, for groaning because Monday brings school or work or waking up early to take your brother to school... But I digress. So I wanted to talk about things this week that have made me happy and what I'm looking forward to this week. Ready? Okay!

1) Hockey is BACK! Well, almost. I attended the Ducks' training camp the past two days and it gets me super-excited for the season. Getzy and Perry were pushing each other (playfully, of course!), Bobby Ryan was goofing around with his teammates, Hiller was nearly back to his best (but vertigo is scary to have for a starting goalie), and my personal favorite Dan Ellis, is on top of his game! I also found a couple of players to watch out for (crossing my fingers that they make the team): Andrew Gordon and Mark Bell.

2) I start school on Thursday. I'm a bit nervous (I know an actual university is different from a community college but I'm not quite sure what those differences are yet and as such, can't prepare) but the closer it gets, the more excited I am. I am planning to go to sporting events (Why can't UCI have a football team? Why?) and socialize. I'm hoping that UCI is where I'll belong, not just for academics but because I care about the school as a whole. Plus, there's a bunch of cool activities during Welcome Week including screening X-Men: First Class on the Green.

3) Demi Lovato's new album comes out on Tuesday. I love her, her voice, and her songs, and I am looking forward to hearing what she has to offer.

4) TV. I'm a confessed couch potato who works out, okay? All my favorite shows premiere this week (Community, The Office, Glee, How I Met Your Mother, Modern Family) and new shows that I'm looking forward to checking out (Whitney, Two Broke Girls, The New Girl, The X-Factor, Last Man Standing) and new shows that I checked out last week that I like (Free Agents, Up All Night). Granted, I will/have watched a lot of these on my computer because I can't watch everyone at once. I'm sad that I have to wait until October for Bones and all year until True Blood. But I'm sure some shows (and hockey) will tide me over.

5) Skyjack: The Hunt for D.B. Cooper by Geoffrey Gray. You know my love for Depression-Era gangsters. D.B. Cooper is kind of like that, but for the 1970's. He's polite and charming and jumped out of a flying airplane with two hundred thousand dollars strapped to his chest on a rainy night after threatening to blow up said plane with a bomb. No one was harmed and to this day, nobody knows who Mr. Cooper really is. I love this stuff. Especially when the author wrote about an old woman who compared D.B. Cooper to John Dillinger. The gangster-geek in me squealed like a school girl! If you're into this kind of stuff, I definitely recommend it!

What about you? Any things you're looking forward to this week?

Fictionpress Friday

2011-09-16T10:23:00.000-07:00

Okay, first off, I apologize for my usage of cheesy alliteration. But I love it. I think it's clever as well as cheesy.

These posts probably won't be as long as the writing or personal posts because these are merely tips. I figure you might be here to read about writing, possibly to read about me (I hope I'm not boring you too much), but some might want to learn how to break into Fictionpress. As you may (or may not) know, I'm a writer on Fictionpress. All of my stories (besides my one-shots) have over two hundred reviews. My goal has always to be a published writer. To be a published writer, you need to be able to sell your books. Fictionpress is a good way to practice that so I'm here to offer tips that have worked for me. I hope they help!

Tip #1: Have a good story. Common sense, right? But you'd be surprised how many stories out there that aren't great or understandable or just plain unrelatable. Some of my stories are original - I come up with the plot, characters, and everything else. Some of my stories are modern takes of classic stories so my plot is already outlined, my characters are defined, but I have to give them my voice. And some of my stories take certain plots or characters from movies and I tweak them in the way that I want. I don't have to worry about keeping them "in-character" because I'm not writing fanfiction, and I try and give them my own unique spin.

A way to write a good story is to take your favorite fairytale and write it with your voice. Modernize it. Switch sexes. (Instead of Cinderella meeting her prince, maybe a guy on the wrong side of the tracks meets a spoiled rich girl who's more than just a pretty face.) Be creative. It's your story. And since the theme is universal - and there's romance - people will relate to it.

But you won't get hits if you don't have a well-written stories, well-rounded characters, a hook for a summary, and a catchy title. We'll talk about those later on, though. For now, choose a story/fairytale/plot you want to explore and write!

Writing Wednesday: Writing

2011-09-14T09:48:00.000-07:00

I've shared a lot of personal stories with you. I've talked about guys and hockey and Johnny Depp. I figure I should probably talk about writing, since I'm a writer. Just know that this is what works for me. Since writing is so subjective, it may or may not work for you. But I've found that reading all I can about writing - whether I agree or not - is just as helpful as writing itself.

Today, I want to talk to you about writing, literally.

I'm working on two different manuscripts: one is going through the revisions process and one I'm writing the first draft for. The first one, I typed on my computer. The second, I wrote with my hand and then typed up the draft onto the computer. Both work, obviously.

But I've found that when I write my story out, I connect with my characters better. I can't explain why. Perhaps it's because the act of writing is more personal, more raw, than simply typing everything up on a computer. But I learn more about them, I get inspired more, and for whatever reason, my writing is better.

However, there are plenty of downsides to writing: your hand hurts. I'm left-handed, so I'm definitely left with a smudge. It takes longer. My grammar and spelling aren't thoroughly checked. I can't tell how many words I've written.

Still, though, I prefer writing.

As I'm revising the first novel, any rewrites I do happen on paper. My description gets more poignant and again, I learn more about these characters and get more personal than I would have had I simply typed everything up a second time.

So I write. And write. And my hand hurts. And I smudge.

But it's worth it.

What about you? Do you type everything up, or do you write it out first?

Vampires done right

2011-09-10T13:49:00.000-07:00

I usually don't do these posts. I love reading books and if I were to review every book I read, I wouldn't be able to write anything. But if you like vampires (real vampires, not ones that refrain from eating meat and sparkle), go read the Vampire Academy series by Richelle Mead, and then go read Bloodlines by the same author.

I'm obsessed.

My only qualm is that I have to wait until June of next year until the next book comes out.

People pleasing, happiness, and respect

2011-09-06T10:07:00.000-07:00

I am a people-pleaser.*

*Note: I didn't say was. I am.

But I'm learning how to be a positive people pleaser rather than a negative one.

What's the difference, you ask? Instead of focusing solely on what other people want, I'm taking into account what I want.

I don't know what changed to make me care more about me in terms of what other people want. I know I'm not the type of girl who goes on dates with guys simply because they ask and I feel bad I don't like them in that way so they get a pity yes. As I'm sure you're all aware, I don't like to waste my time.

I think it started around the time Goatboy and I broke up and my best friend and I had a falling out. Both of those effects stemmed from a cause: I started telling them what I wanted and/or I started standing up for myself. When it came to me and Goatboy, we had been together just over nine months and I was beginning to feel like I was in limbo, waiting around for something I wasn't sure was going to actually happen. Nine months together and we had yet to make our relationship official. When I'm with someone, I give my all. There's no room for half-way when it comes to me, and I was beginning to feel exhausted at pouring all of me into the relationship when he was only giving me a bit of him. Of course, I now realize that he was giving me all he possibly could, all he had, but he couldn't fully commit. And as much as I loved him - he was my first real love, after all - it wasn't enough. And, still in sync, we seemed to realize it at the same time and parted ways mutually with the promise of maintaining our friendship.

When it comes to the friend situation, I confronted her about not inviting me to her little sister's sixth grade graduation, inviting someone else in my place who, while my friend too, didn't have the same relationship with that girl that I did. And my best friend knew it. Her little sister and I were incredibly close to the point where I considered her to be my little sister. And I told my friend I wanted to come, and despite this, she didn't invite me, even though she invited our other friend over Facebook and it would have been rather easy to copy and paste that comment onto my Wall, but she didn't. That's not the end, though. The guy that she's been in love with - let's call him A - randomly started flirting with me on Facebook. I didn't respond to the flirting, but he kept doing so. So my friend blocked me on Facebook. She threw seven years of friendship away because her unrequited love was flirting with me - flirting which I ignored and even tried to thwart.

How do you know it was because of A?

Because I checked and she blocked him too.

It was the final straw. She gave up our friendship because of a guy who didn't return her sentiments, without even having the decency to ask my side.

But this isn't where the story ends, folks.

A asked me out.

I've never been interested in him that way and though me and my friend were over, I'd still never do something like that to her. So I said I'd love to hang but we didn't have to date. As guys are wont to do, he mistook my meaning and we decided we'd go hiking the following week. I came clean the day before thanks to my anxiety at doing something intimate alone with a guy when I'd rather be at home reading, telling him I had just gotten out of a relationship, I didn't want to date because I didn't want to lead anyone on, and I certainly wasn't ready for anything serious. He took the message well, going so far as to tell me he respected me even more because of my honesty.

You'd think that would be the end of it, right?

Haha. No.

He kept inviting me to go hiking, to go to the movies. Sometimes, I'd ignore the texts, sometimes I'd respond a long while after, telling him I was hanging out with my brother.

I didn't understand: couldn't he take a hint? I don't want to date him. We were barely friends, barely knew each other. As unsocial as it sounds, if I'm not interested in being friends with you, I'm not going to waste gas and my time hanging out with you.

The climax came when he texted me at one in the morning with the simple message: Help me. You read that right. Help me. Um, I keep my phone on vibrate at night specifically for this very reason: if one of my friends need me. Middle of the night calls/texts are reserved for emergencies (at least with me since my real friends know I go to bed early). On top of that, it took a while for me to finally fall asleep and I had a doctor's appointment really early in the morning.

So I sent a snappish text in return, asking him what he needed my help with at one in the morning.

He replied with something along the lines of how cranky I was in the early morning. Note that he had yet to tell me what he needed help with and actually apologize.

Um, yes. So I told him I had a doctor's appointment and was fast asleep before he woke me up.

He seemed to think this was funny because he literally wrote "LOL sorry damn." Or something like that.

I was so pissed, I didn't respond.

How dare he? Who the eff did he think he was?

No kiddies, the story isn't over. I know. I can't believe it either.

It was a week before he texted me, asking me to go on another hike with him and a group of friends. But here's the kicker: he called me grouchy.

That pissed me off more than I can comprehend. I hate when people think they're closer to me than they really are and, as such, seem to think they're entitled to treat me more intimate than what propriety actually calls for.

I thought about how I was supposed to respond for a while before coming up with something that stated how the fact that he texted me at one in the morning and the way he handled my less than enthusiastic reaction was completely inappropriate. I reminded him we've never hung out and we barely know each other and that, while I thought he was a decent guy, I didn't want to hang out with him at all.

His response? Haha, k.

Okay, I was upset but whatever. I thought I wouldn't be hearing from him after that.

I thought wrong.

A few hours later, he texted me this really long message asking me why I was so upset, how he thought I was going through something in my life that I was taking out on him (are you effing kidding me?) and all he was doing was inviting me to go on a hike, and by the way, he already apologized for that text.

Yeah, my mouth still drops open when I think about it.

I had two options: I could respond or I could let it go.

While I wanted nothing more than to point out his stupidity at not taking a hint and completely overstepping the proper boundaries of Facebook friendship, I decided to let it go. His behavior was already worrisome and I didn't want aggravate it any more because I wasn't sure how he'd react in terms of harassing me. Plus, if he couldn't see how inappropriate his behavior was, even with me telling him, than there was no way I could make him understand.

So, why am I telling these personal (and probably boring) stories? Because going through each one, and ending with what I went through with A taught me something. I've always said the universe is working WITH you and never AGAINST you. But if you work against yourself, what is the universe supposed to do?

Standing up for myself, even though it was hard and hurt and painful, was the best thing I ever did. I'm not worried about how Goatboy truly feels about me and if I can really depend on him anymore. I'm not trying to be the perfect best friend when she doesn't take me all that seriously and treat me the way I deserve to be treated anymore. And I'm not going to let some guy make me roll over because of his incessant persistence and lack of understanding of the word no.

Here's how I see it: the moment I start respecting myself to the point of action then I'll attract people who will respect me. It's common sense, right? Well, I'm the type of girl that has to feel it to understand, rather than simply know it.

I still like making people happy. I realize that upon meeting people I admire or the cute guy in my class, I will never be the mysterious siren oozing sexuality. I'm not cool. I'll be uber-polite, probably blushing and smiling way too much girl. But, the things is, I'd rather be sweet than sexy. (Most of the time.) Because that's who I am. However, I'm not going to sacrifice my self-respect over it, especially to people who really don't deserve to be in my life anyways.

We all deserve happiness. The universe wants nothing more than to make us happy. But you have to help too. Sometimes, happiness is a result of letting something you cherish, something you love with all your heart and will still probably love for the rest of your life, go. Your happiness is more important than theirs. You are the first person you should want to please. Because you're worthy of it.

Name Calling

2011-09-02T08:51:00.000-07:00

Everyone who knows me knows I'm a HUGE hockey fan. I've been counting down the days till the start of the season, arranged my studying abroad around the season, and have reserved a section of wall in my room specifically for hockey pictures.

But when I'm watching the game - either at home or in the arena - I always hesitate before I start to cheer on a player by name. It's stupid and silly and ridiculous, but I always feel awkward shouting "Go Teemu!" when he has the puck only because who am I to address him by his first name? He hasn't given me leave to call him Teemu. And if I shouted "Go Mr. Selanne!" - whether at home or in person - people would look at me like I was off my rocker or something.

Okay then, Heather, you say, what about nicknames?

Um, I get upset when people call me something other than my name unless I know them. I don't think it would be right for me to address George Parros as Georgie or Ryan Getzlaf as Getzie without their permission.

However, I have no problem calling Cam Fowler 'Cam' because he's younger than I am. I'm traditional to the point of nausea, right?

I know, I know: I'm overthinking it and I should just call them by name. And I do. But I always hesitate because I don't like being presumptuous about something like that since it's basic etiquette.

Though, even I will admit that there are exceptions to every rule.

Getting Over Boys

2011-08-03T19:24:00.000-07:00

I'm not a rebound kind of girl.

Well, after a relationship ends, I like when guys stare at me because it boosts my waning self-confidence. And yes, flirting is nice. But I don't throw myself into the arms of Random Boy #1 in order to get over an ex. Because to me, that's an impossible feat. Rebounds, to me, are replacements. And when it comes to my exes, they're irreplaceable. Even the bad ones.

I can't be with another guy because I'll be looking for my most recent ex in them and will be disappointed when I don't find what I'm looking for. The thing is, they'll never be him.

And that's okay.

The way I get over an ex is to throw myself into something completely unrelated. With this past relationship, I listened to Hilary Duff's "Holiday" about a hundred times and avoided any songs that might bring me to tears. I also refused to watch sappy romantic comedies because even though I know they're unrealistic, even I - the very optimistic but not very romantic girl - wanted to be what every heroine in those rom-coms is: the exception.

Because Goatboy was my exception. And in my naivety, I thought, You know, maybe it's not crazy to think that I'm his exception too.

Except life doesn't work that way. As tortuous as it is, just because he's mine doesn't mean I'm his. And I didn't want sappy movies to remind me of that.

I refused to write poems, and when I thought enough time had passed where it was safe to, I still cried writing them. I'm tearing up a bit, writing this.

And let me tell you, I am not a sap. Far from it. I can always tell when something is genuine in romantic comedies, and when something is just way too cheesy. And when it's cheesy, I can't help but laugh. While all the other women in the theatre are 'awing' and sniffling, I'm laughing. And I'm sorry to ruin the moment but I cannot help it.

But I think that's what makes me happy in this moment, right now. I'm hopeful. For the future. For my love life. Because even though Goatboy was (and is, and probably will always be, as first loves usually are) my exception, there will be others. And finding the one that sees you as his or her exception as well? Well, that's fate, isn't it?

I'm sure I won't find my One right now. Probably because I'm not quite over my previous relationship. Not yet, anyways. And I refuse to get into a relationship until I'm over the previous one. But with each passing day, a little bit of the pain fades. And a little piece of me grows back. Granted, he'll always have his piece of me and I'll forever love him. But my heart fills that gap with lessons I've learned, an updated version of what I want and don't want in a relationship, and a small, silver scar that will remind me of him.

As if I could forget.

And while I feel myself fully letting go of what was, I yearn for what will be.

And that happiness comes from what is now.

No, I don't do the whole rebound thing.

But I watch television shows with genuine guys I adore. With Number 24 way back last year, what got me over him was watching the first season of True Blood. And I saw how genuine Bill was, and how much he loved Sookie, and I realized that it was good riddance with Number 24. I wanted a guy like Bill. (Granted, this was season one. I have been Team Eric for a while now, thank you very much.)

And while I didn't find Bill in Goatboy, I found what I was looking for in that moment, and I didn't even realize it until we started dating.

And now, the thing getting me over Goatboy isn't Finn from Glee or Parker from Drop Dead Diva as I expected, but rather Professor Snape. From Harry Potter. No. I'm not kidding. It's probably the slew of talented authors over on Fanfiction.net that capture his character, make him such a well-rounded character that you'd be crazy not to fall in love with him.

Goatboy was everything I needed in those nine months we spent together, but now, I'm hoping for someone like Professor Snape. In all honesty, I probably won't find someone like the Potions Master. But I trust the universe to give me exactly what I need when I need it even (especially) if I, myself, don't know just what that is.

But hopefully, the universe will throw in that silky, seductive Alan Rickman voice when choosing my next romantic entanglement as icing on the cake.

Tarot Cards and other hobbies

2011-07-17T10:30:00.000-07:00

I used to think that writing was my hobby. But I'm hoping to turn it into my career.

So what do I do about hobbies? While listening to music, going to movies, dancing, working out, and hanging out with friends may seem like hobbies, I believe they're more related to our desire as humans to socialize and communicate.

A hobby is something we do to occupy time, something we like but don't necessarily need to make money off of but still makes us happy nonetheless.

I used to think writing was my hobby. But really, it's a passion. I have to write. I don't have a choice in the matter.

But my hobby? I like to read tarot cards. Some people believe in them, others think they're tools to communicate with the devil. Many people are placed down the middle in this particular spectrum. Personally, I do believe what they have to say but I also realize that the future isn't set in stone, and that I'm able to change it.

Which makes tarot cards so cool. They offer guidance and help, explain karmic lessons you might need to learn, or reassure you that while it's bleak and hard now, it'll get better soon. They tell you things, whether you want to hear them or not, and explain how to overcome the difficulty, or that someone's talking bad about you, or bad news is coming.

But they also reassure you in that you can always turn a bad card over. Really, your destiny is up to you.

I like their symbology, learning about what they mean and how to interpret them in different situations. But more than anything, I like that I can go them at any time, night or day, and they'll help me out.

Which says a lot more than many other hobbies out there.

Saturday's Breakdown

2011-07-16T20:54:00.000-07:00

What I'm reading: Size 14 is Not Fat Either by Meg Cabot and The Girl in the Steel Corset by Kady Cross
What I'm Listening To: Bad Meets Evil and Angels & Airwaves
What I'm Watching: Married... with Children Season 8 (on DVD)
What I'm Writing: As of yet, untitled pirate mythology story - just started Chapter 22 (YA)
What I'm Interested in Right Now: Working out

Letting Go and Starting Over

2011-07-12T10:27:00.000-07:00

I've had one hell of a time these past few months.

In April, Goatboy and I decided that it would probably be best if we stopped seeing each other. Totally mutual and we said we'd still be friends. (You know, after we get over each other, because it's hard to care about your friend romantically.) At around the same time, my best friend in the world and I started growing apart. I don't know why but I promised that this year, I'd start standing up for myself. And perhaps that's one of the reasons she started to pull away and align herself with someone else.

It doesn't matter though.

I've always believed that the little things matter more than the big things. Whether it comes to guys or friends, sometimes it's best - no matter how hard it is - to let them go. Maybe the timing is wrong and you'll meet back up in the future where it'll be better to be friends or lovers (both?). Maybe this is the only time you'll encounter them but your life will never be the same because of them. Maybe you're the lesson they need to learn (I HATE that!).

Whatever they are to you, sometimes it's best to let them go.

And it's hard. Trust me. Breaking up with your boyfriend and best friend around the same time is one of the hardest thing I've ever had to deal with. But I've learned that I will accept nothing less than what I deserve, whether from a guy or from friends. It's made me feel more mature, more adult (eek!), and I like myself. I'm proud of myself. I admire myself.

And that's how I know that it's the right thing.

What gets me through it are two different quotes: God never gives you more than you can handle and If you love something, set it free; if it comes back to you, it was meant to be and if it doesn't, it was never really yours in the first place.

And this has also made me appreciate those people that are practically permanent fixtures in my life: my mother, my brother, and my friend Mrs. Wolverine (because she's super in love with Hugh Jackman, but then again, who isn't?).

More than that, letting go of things - shedding my cocoon so to speak - makes me excited to start over. I start at a new school in late September. I'm going to Comic Con. My friend from Germany is coming to stay with me for a week. I'm going to Disneyland. I'm going to the fair. Hockey season starts.

But I have to get through these next couple of weeks.

It's going to be hard. Little things will remind me of both of them and then I'll miss them and wish they were still in my life. But if they wanted to be here, they'd find a way to be here. And if they don't, they're not worth it. And because I've realized personally how short life is, I know I should only interact with people who deserve to be in my life. Anything else is a waste of time.

Life shouldn't be about suffering. Yes, there will be pain and hardship. But it's about dancing in the rain. And everyone knows how much I love doing that. :)

And what I'm going through now will make me the beautiful butterfly I'm destined to be.

So bring on the pain and tears and suffering. I'm a strong girl - stronger than I give myself credit for. I'll survive. I always do.

Saturday's Breakdown

2011-07-09T13:49:00.000-07:00

What I'm reading: Size 14 is Not Fat Either by Meg Cabot and Wanted by Sara Shepard
What I'm Listening To: old school Britney Spears and Avril Lavigne
What I'm Watching: Bones Season 5 (on DVD)
What I'm Writing: As of yet, untitled pirate mythology story - halfway through Chapter 18 (YA)
What I'm Interested in Right Now: Comic Con!

Being Authentic

2011-07-07T20:31:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I found out, thanks to a loyal reader, that I was a victim of plagiarism.

I scoffed at the idea that somebody would want to plagiarize me. Me! Not that I didn't think such a thing could happen to me - because I was definitely aware of it, no doubt - but because I just couldn't fathom why someone would want to plagiarize my stuff. I feel like if my stories were books, they'd be quick, fun beach reads. Most of them, anyways. Great when you want something light, but not plagiarism-worthy.

I followed the link my reader sent me and found out that this woman not only plagiarized one story, but three. Three! And they were all mine.

I felt... violated. I'm not going to lie; I felt like she stole three of my children and claimed they were hers. (Maybe a little overdramatic, but whatever.) Everything was exactly how I had written it - down to the title and the summary! Had she no shame? Didn't she know there was a possibility she'd be caught?

And what kills me is that she was getting reviews, reads, and votes. I'm not jealous that she was stealing my work, per se, but I was pissed that people she believed she wrote these stories. Stories I wrote at five in the morning because I just didn't have the time for it. Stories I outlined and created and wrote in my voice. My stories were labeled as hers.

I hated it.

Which surprised me because I didn't think I'd have such a strong reaction to it, even when confronted by the blatancy of her lazy actions.

I realized that these are my stories, my babies, which means they're a part of me. If anyone tries to claim them as theirs, I feel suffocated and angry because they're claiming me as them. And I'm not. I'm only me. (Geez, I hope this is making sense...)

And that's how I know I'll never plagiarize. (I always knew this, of course. Sophomore year of high school I got my first and last D in a science class because it was so hard everyone - even the good kids - had to cheat in order to get a decent grade. But not me.) Because everything I do or write has some part of my instilled in it. I could never claim something that isn't mine because it has no piece of me in it.

Obviously that means I'll have to work harder but that's okay. It's worth it. At least, to me.

So, what happened to my plagiarizer? I left a comment on her author's page introducing myself, telling her she has 24 hours to remove my stories or I'll go directly to the site and inform them of her blatant plagiarism and constantly write on her author's page telling her readers or whoever decided to check her out that she plagiarized my stuff. A few hours later, the entire author's page didn't exist.

Which left me relieved.

I probably won't ever take my stories down (unless I'm hoping to publish them, of course). There's a good chance that I'll be plagiarized again, and when the time comes, I'll handle it.

But I'm a writer. And when you're a writer, there's a good chance someone is going to copy your work. But those plagiarizers? They're not writers. They're just lazy and want some instant gratification. And remember: the highest form of flattery is imitation. Even when it's verbatim.

Nerves and Settling Them

2011-07-05T12:18:00.000-07:00

I am incredibly nervous.

Today, I sent out two query letters to prospective agents for the novel I hope to get published. It's different than before (when I was 18, I sent out query letters for a story THE DEAD MAN'S TALE and last year, I did the same with SWIMMING IN RAIN) because I've thoroughly edited my novel and I wrote it in a month - it means so much to me because it deals with something incredibly important to me: hockey.

This is personal.

Which is why I'm nervous sending it out in the business aspect of the publishing world. Because while it might be personal to me, it's business for them. If they reject my story, they reject me.

But I'm growing thick skin. I know I'll need it, especially if I want to be a writer, a published one on that.

So, with my grandfather's hat on my head and the blanket I've had since I was born in my lap - my own form of a subtle alcoholic beverage used solely to calm my nerves - I sent out those two letters. Something might come from it. Nothing might come from it. But no matter what, I'm a writer. And someday, I'll be a published one.

Saturday's Breakdown

2011-07-02T08:55:00.000-07:00

What I'm reading: Size 12 is Not Fat by Meg Cabot and The Complete Public Enemy Almanac by William J. Helmer and Rick Mattix
What I'm Listening To: Selena Gomez's new CD, Maroon 5, Miranda Lambert
What I'm Watching: Bones Season 3 (on DVD)
What I'm Writing: As of yet, untitled pirate mythology story - started Chapter 15 (YA)
What I'm Interested in Right Now: NHL Draft/Free Agency (Brad Richards signing with the Rangers - at least it wasn't with the Kings!)

Life's Collisions

2011-06-30T12:08:00.000-07:00

Have you ever learned something in one aspect of your life, only to apply it to another aspect of your life?

For example, when I was in fourth grade, I learned how to play the clarinet and how to read music. I found that piano music is roughly the same - at least the melody - and since I knew where the main C was located, I transferred my clarinet notes to the piano subsequently teaching myself to play the piano. (With one hand, but still.)

Today, I went to watch prospective Ducks play a scrimmage against each other. Granted, these kids (I say kids because I was older than the majority of them - and I'm only 21 years old!) aren't professional (yet) and it was a scrimmage (part of a training camp).

They were good, for the most part. I like to watch the goalies personally. Of course, there was a lack of tension because prospective Ducks were playing against other prospective Ducks so everybody wins, and since they started 25 minutes late, I was worried about possibly getting a ticket because of my parking time limit.

But there were a couple of things that happened that I just cringed at. Even I know you don't do stuff like this.

Granted, I never played hockey in my life. I've probably been ice skating only a handful of times. But I played soccer for 7 years when I was a kid, on an All Star team and then to an APP team with the option to join club soccer. And I was a defender the majority of time (sweeper, to be exact). I can take what I know from soccer and prescribe it to hockey.

Like never, ever cross to your teammate in front of your goal. It's just too dangerous. You never know if someone will make a breakaway, intercept the pass, and score a goal.

Or don't reach for the puck with your stick. Get your body behind it.

And for the love of God, don't block the goalie's view of the puck!

But the scrimmage was enjoyable. I always find it fascinating to watch people play hockey - it's the fastest sport on the planet, and it's cool to know that I'll have watched soon-to-be Ducks when they just started out.

I'm not on the ice so I don't know what it's like. It's completely different when you're there, on the ice, playing the sport. But maybe they could participate in a soccer camp. Just for fun.

Annoyances

2011-06-27T11:09:00.000-07:00

One of my biggest pet peeves is when people ask me to borrow a pen/pencil and/or a piece of paper.

I know, I know. Everyone who knows me laughs at this, and calls me a nerd.

But whatever.

Because even worse than asking me to borrow those items, is when I actually allow them to take my things, but then they don't give them back! (Obviously I don't ask for the paper back, but seriously, could they at least change their choice of diction from 'borrow' to 'have' when it comes to the paper or give me a piece of paper the next day?)

I don't know about you, but I like to be organized when it comes to taking notes (AND writing outlines to potential stories). I use RED, BLUE, and BLACK in order to keep my notes pretty and interesting. If I let someone borrow a pen from that collection, I'm completely thrown off! My notes are NOT beautiful and neat, they're just blah! Luckily, I prepare myself for them, and usually have three types of each color packed in my Johnny Depp pencil case my friend got me for Christmas.

But what happens when I, being the kind person I am, lend out my colored pens and people don't return them? I'm completely thrown off and grouchy and ugh!

And don't get me started on having to rip a piece of paper out of my perfect, untouched notebook. As a writer, it kills me. I hate it.

I know it's horrible and lame and you're probably like my friends, saying, "Really, Heather? It's just a pen!"

But to me, it's not just a pen. It's a tool I use to do what I love. Without a pen and paper, how would I write?

That's just me, though. We all have ridiculous pet peeves. I'm preparing myself for mine, even though school doesn't start until September. Because I know at least ONE person will ask me to borrow something. (What, do I have a big stamp on my forehead that says, "ASK ME FOR ANYTHING!")

P.S. Boys: asking me to borrow a pen in order to talk to me is NOT the way to win my heart.

Handwritten Letters to Celebrities

2011-06-25T09:43:00.000-07:00

Has anyone written a letter to a celebrity?

If so, has anyone gotten anything back from them?

Today, I'm mailing my first letter off to none other than Mr. Clint Eastwood.

Why?

Well, I'll tell you.

See, he's making this biopic about none other than J. Edgar Hoover. No, not the president. The guy who was responsible for the creation of what's known now as the FBI.

Technically speaking, of course, John Dillinger and Alvin Karpis contributed to the FBI's creation too. Back in the day, there wasn't much federal regulation. A lot of laws were left up to the states, and as such, many people were completely against a national police force coming and taking over criminal cases normally left to the responsibility of the state police. Hoover vehemently opposed this sort of viewpoint and insisted that a national police force be instituted. But he needed a reason for it.

And that's where my two favorite gangsters come in.

With Dillinger continuously slipping through the Bureau's fingers and Karpis hiding out from them, the Bureau of Investigation was made to look like fools. Even more so when the general public supported the Robin Hood-esque figures.

For Hoover to win his little FBI, he needed to prove that they were needed. And more than that, he needed to show that the Bureau could get results.

So he ordered that Dillinger be killed - which he was, execution-style July 22, 1934 - and claimed to personally arrest Karpis -although Karpis states in his autobiography that it was only after the gangster was safely detained that Hoover made his appearance and took credit.

In the end, the FBI survived and for as long as Hoover was the director, he kept a death mask of Dillinger on his desk.

Charming guy, right?

So, in order to tie this back up to my letter to Mr. Eastwood, I just wanted to let him know how important his portrayal of both Dillinger and Karpis are. Because you can't tell a story about Hoover without talking about Dillinger and Karpis. And I don't want them to be portrayed as "the bad guys" because they weren't. Just like Hoover wasn't a "good guy." I do trust in Mr. Eastwood's vision, though.

I don't expect any sort of response from him - though I did send a self-addressed stamped envelope just in case - but if I watch the film (out later this year) and find a problem with how my gangsters are presented...

Well, me and Mr. Eastwood are going to have some words...

Calling Myself A Writer

2011-06-23T10:26:00.000-07:00

I started writing as soon as I could pick up a pencil. I wrote poems and short stories and drew pictures.

I started writing seriously when I was 18, and finished my first novel. Over 100,000 words, in fact. From there, I wrote over 20 novel-length stories, querying agents here and there but nothing serious.

But I still never called myself a writer.

I don't work, so I would respond to an inquiry about a job saying, "Oh, I'm a student."

It wasn't because I didn't believe I wasn't a writer. It was because unless you're a writer, you don't understand what it's like to BE a writer.

A couple of weeks ago, I was hanging out with a group of friends. One of them commented on what a hard day at work she had - she works as a nurse at a private practice; you know, the one who comes in and takes your vitals - and asked, "Did any of you actually work today?"

Every one of my friends has a job. Except me. I know I'm lucky. I don't have to work. But I did have a long day that day - it took me four hours to revise four chapters of the novel I hope to one day publish. That was when I actually really considered myself a writer. And I told her as much. She brushed off my statement and rolled her eyes before changing the subject.

Besides the fact that I was incredibly offended at the lack of seriousness she was providing my chosen career with especially considering she was supposed to be my best friend, I knew she didn't understand. She couldn't. She'll probably never write a book in her life. She'll never finish one. She'll never understand what it takes to create characters, a logical and compelling story, finish it, and then revise it. Never understand how much blood, sweat, and tears go into a novel. Never understand what it's like to have the patience to go over details to your story, wait for those agent responses. Because she's not a writer.

I know what it's like to be a receptionist. I worked at a movie theatre for 2 years back in high school, dealt with guests, answered phones, sold tickets, ushered, and was a concessionist. I know it's exhausting, even if you're sitting down the entire time. And I don't take any of that away from her. The least she could do is support what I want to do, even if she can't understand it.

And that's another reason why I really don't claim to be a writer. I'm not yet published - I don't even have an agent! - and therefore I'm not getting paid. If I say I'm a writer, people do what my friend did; they humor me but don't take what I'm doing seriously. Apparently, simply writing isn't a job, it's a hobby.

But that's okay. I don't mind saying I'm just a student (even though, after that 4 hours, I considered myself a non-paying worker because seriously - 4 hours!) because I know that one day, I will be able to say I'm a writer.

And then, everyone will take me seriously. For the most part.

Coincidences

2011-06-22T10:38:00.000-07:00

See that word up there?

Yeah. I don't actually believe in it.

To me, there are no such thing as coincidences. I know it's not what you might call rational, exactly, but it's what I believe.

Today, the NHL Hockey Awards are on (400PM Pacific Team on Versus). Also, it's John Dillinger's 108th birthday. And you guys know how crazy I am about 1930's gangsters, especially Dillinger. I am as crazy-excited about this award show as I am about the Oscars because I am crazy-excited about hockey. Like, seriously. I'm planning to study abroad, but will only do it during the summer because hockey season ends around the same time summer begins. Yes, you read that right. I planned my educational travel around hockey season.

And just who is my team? Obviously the Anaheim Ducks. Considering I was born in Anaheim. And the team is supremely fantastic. I have always been a native fan - like, I'm a fan of the Los Angeles Lakers and the Anaheim Angels and the Los Angeles Galaxy because I'm from the area. I'm also a Red Sox fan, a Celtics fan, a Green Bay Packers fan (since 2000, by the way). But do I actually watch these games?

Um, no.

I watched the Super Bowl and will watch any USC-UCLA game (Go Trojans!). I will watch the news for baseball scores and soccer scores and football scores, but I'll be honest: I really don't care. I'm rooting for my area, of course, but I really don't care.

But hockey is a different story. I've watched Ducks play - I've been to quite a few games this past season, including the fifth playoff game. I saw that amazing Bobby Ryan goal live. I watched as Corey Perry scored his fiftieth goal this season and simultaneously completed a hat trick live. I watched as my favorite player and goalie Dan Ellis block over forty shots against our cross-town rivals, the Los Angeles Kings, guaranteeing us not only a place in the playoffs, but fourth seed live.

In order to prepare for today, I went up to the Honda Center to the Team Store - where they're having a fifty percent off sale in celebration of the award ceremony - and squealed in delight when I saw there were actual Ellis shirts. I had to have one. Who cares that they were men sizes and even the small would drown my frame? There was a small. I happened to have found the last small, AND it was fifty percent off.

Coincidence?

I don't think so.

I think "coincidences" - whether it's the combination of your favorite things, such as hockey and John Dillinger and pirates (Jerry Bruckheimer will be presenting an award) or getting into the car just as your favorite song starts on the radio - are just the universe's way of letting you know you're on the right path and that it has your back.

So when I flip to Versus today at 200PM (you know, for the red carpet stuff because any hardcore award show viewer won't skip the red carpet), I'll be wearing my Ellis shirt. I'll be rooting for Corey Perry to take home the Hart Trophy because he deserves it. And when it's over, I'll be counting the days for hockey season to start back up.

And throughout it all, the universe will have my back and will show me it does through what those that don't actually believe call coincidences. But I'll know better.

Fathers and Dads

2011-06-19T11:31:00.000-07:00

I just got back from visiting my maternal grandfather at the LA Veterans Cemetery. Even though he passed away February 22, 2004, me and my family visit him (and now my grandmother, as of October 19, 2009) five times a year. We stay maybe five minutes despite the hour drive to and from LA to each pay our respects to him. We don't bring flowers, we don't dress up. We're just there.

He showed me what being a true dad was. Any man can be a father, but Papa was a dad. Granted, I have no idea what it was like growing up with him as a father, but I know what it was like having him as a grandfather. And he is the epitome of what I think a dad should be: he was always there for me, he humored me whenever I had one of my great - though naive - ideas, he teased me, he gave me advice, and I knew without a doubt I could count on him no matter what.

My own father is a great father. But he has his own family he needs to worry about. And while I love him, he's never really been a dad.

Which is probably why I miss Papa so much.

Happy Father's Day to all the Fathers, Dads, and Grandfathers out there. Whether you're here or somewhere in the sky, watching over everyone. :)

Like Sunday Morning

2010-11-21T19:56:00.000-08:00

Okay, let me start off by saying I'm not an expert in love. Like, at all. But I've learned some things in my past encounters with the opposite sex in romantic settings and I've learned a lot with the guy I'm with now. And I'm incredibly content so I wanted to share it with you. Those of you who are reading, of course. And interestingly enough, they have to do with YOU and not so much with the guy.

First and foremost, when you start seeing a guy and you start accumulating facts about who he is, you HAVE to do something: you either have to accept him for who he is or you have to move on. And once you make that decision, don't look back. I know it sounds way simple, but it's true - it'll save you and him lots of fights, tears, and insecurities. There may be something he does that you're not used to (in my case, Goatboy didn't like to plan. At all. And he would ask me to hang out - seriously - a few hours beforehand - sometimes ASAP, and cancel plans last minute. Though, he hasn't done the latter in a while.). But you have to decide, okay, do I care about this personality trait more than I care about him? I felt that I cared more about my guy than his non-planning capabilities and accepted that he's not like me. And now I appreciate that trait because in a way, it keeps me on my toes.

Second, recognize that relationships are NOT like the movies, books, songs, television shows, fics, etc. Another obvious one, right? Well, this sort of ties into the first one because what if you're crazy for a guy who's not exactly romantic? Well, have you accepted him? I guarantee you that if he feels the same way about you, he'll show it (though you may not notice it because you have these preconceived notions of what romance is and what a boyfriend should be), whether it's walking you to your car, holding the door open for you, curling a strand of hair behind your ear, or other actions that may be somewhat subtle. DON'T TAKE THEM FOR GRANTED! You'd be surprised that guys today don't do this stuff.

And finally, expect nothing EXCEPT 1) faithfulness (if you're at that stage), 2) respect/being treated right, and 3) honesty. Don't expect him to text you every day or to see you every day. Don't expect him to pay every date or to ask you to spend the night. Don't expect him to say you look beautiful the first time you have sex or to hold your hand in public. Your expectations will not be met because you and him are probably on different pages in regards how either of you should act, save for what you SHOULD expect. Plus, when he DOES text you or invite you over or whatever, he'll be doing it because he WANTS to do it.

Anyways, that's my take on everything. And I'm crazy happy right now. But who knows what will happen in the next month - week - hell, who knows what'll happen tomorrow. I'm not expecting anything, and yet I'm happier than I have been in a while. :)

I Will Survive

2010-10-21T20:22:00.000-07:00

Not to go all Gloria Gaynor, but I realized it's true.

Last night, I had a dream the world was coming to an end. People in my family died. Strangers died. Everyone around me save for a few people were dead. But I wasn't. I was quick-thinking, I was fast on my feet, and yeah, I was scared shitless, but I was trying to keep as calm as possible.

I'm a romantic. Not in the cliched way or anything, but I like to make the guy I'm seeing happy. Whether that's taking him to a Ducks game or dropping off a gift certificate at his house when I know he's at school, it doesn't matter. I love surprising him. In a way, it's kind of selfish because MY happiness only increases knowing that I've made him happy.

But the thing is, if it goes south with Goatboy and we end up not seeing each other, I will survive.

I mean, what else is there? Survival is something I've had to learn at a young age. I've survived three deaths in my family. I've survived my parents' divorce. I've survived breakups and a very bad relationship. I've survived heartbreaks. I've survived being abandoned by two people who I thought would never abandon me. I've survived.

I was reading this month's Cosmo, which happens to be the Bachelor Issue, and I read this one guy's quote, saying, "I won't start dating a girl unless I think she could possibly be The One. Which is why I like to take things slow." Obviously I'm paraphrasing. But I've come to realize that I'm the same way. I don't date a guy if I don't like him or if I don't think it's going to go anywhere. That would be a complete waste of both our time. Now, let's back-peddle a bit. I'm not saying Goatboy's The One or anything, but he could be. I'm open to seeing where it goes.

Having said that, I'm also experienced enough to realize that given today's romantic environment, there's a good chance that - especially since we're both really young - it won't work out. That doesn't mean this is a waste of time because I like him well enough to give him the chance to either change my mind or fall in love. I can't say which path we'll go down because we haven't come to that fork yet.

If it turns out that he ends up going right instead of left, if he's not as crazy as I am about me, if he doesn't want to see me anymore, of course I'll be hurt. Goatboy is the first guy I've been instantly comfortable with, ridiculously attracted to, and has opened my mind to concepts I haven't thought about before. And I hope I've done the same for him. But if not, if it doesn't work out, I'll survive.

I won't call him or ask for another chance. I won't try to win him back. I know that maybe that's what many people say - they'll fight for the one they love and all - but that's not me. If he wants to go, I won't stop him or try to change his mind. It's his choice and I have to respect that.

And through the tears and feelings of loneliness and tubs of ice cream, I know that I'll survive. I'll move on. And I'll be a stronger person. And in a way, I'll be excited because I know that while Goatboy was an amazing guy and I was lucky to have known him, my real soulmate, a guy who'll love me for exactly who I am, is out there looking for me.

And all the pain will be worth it.

My Happy Song

2010-10-01T09:26:00.000-07:00

Everyone has a happy song that may or may not reflect who they are. Sometimes the song is predictable and consistent with a person's favorite artist. Sometimes it's nostalgic, maybe a song you used to listen to with a close family member. Sometimes it's an inside joke between you and your best friend. Sometimes, it's that one song that perfectly expresses exactly how you feel about that special someone. Sometimes it's all of that.

And sometimes, it's none of that. Sometimes, it doesn't make sense. Sometimes, our happy songs creep up on us and we don't realize that it's our happy song until we find ourselves dancing and smiling and reveling in the fact that the song doesn't make sense, was never released on the radio because it was made strictly for a movie that wasn't very popular, and is by an actor who's on House now but wasn't that big back then.

My happy song since the beginning of my sophomore year of high school is "Sheets of Egyptian Cotton" by Jesse Spencer, and it was made for the movie Uptown Girls with Brittany Murphy. I haven't listened to it in a while, but as I was composing a tracklist for my birthday, I realized that this song just HAD to be played. How could it not? This was my HAPPY SONG.

Sure, there are other songs that represent me and that I love and that make me feel nearly the same way as this song. There are songs by better known artists, songs that make sense, songs that are more popular, but I don't care. This is my happy song. I get the same feeling every time I hear it and that's it. I start dancing, I close my eyes, and I get this ridiculous smile on my face. The feeling I get from it is pure and utter happiness.

And that's what makes it my happy song. Because no other song on the planet can evoke such pure happiness from me.

I'd love to hear what YOUR happy song is.

And luckily for us, happy songs can be played over and over and over again and still give us those good vibrations.

Responsibility and other depressing aspects of adulthood

2010-09-29T11:01:00.000-07:00

There are two major decisions that I've made this past year that are, what my parents have termed, as responsible. The right decision. Even though I wish I could have made the wrong one.

Now, I should probably clarify: I actually made these decisions myself. My parents, my friends, nobody forced me to make one decision over the other. I made these decisions, which means the consequences, the actions that subsequently followed my decisions, were of my own choosing and I can't blame anyone but myself.

These decisions, you ask? Well, the first one has to do with my writing: a publishing house actually offered to publish my book. Of course, I was ecstatic. This was my dream come true. My mother, of course, reminded me to do some research in the company, especially since they wanted me to buy author's copies. I had never heard of an author buying copies of their own book, and they weren't paying me anything either to publish my book. So I looked into it, and while the publishing house is legit, it's a pretty shady establishment. And here's the thing: I look at my publishing house like I look at a potential boyfriend. I'd rather be alone than in a bad relationship just like I'd rather be unpublished than published by a bad publishing company. It sucks, but I knew it was the right decision.

My second decision was even harder because I really, really wanted this: the Eminem concert. I've literally been counting down the days and I've been waiting - waiting - to see him in concert. I've loved the guy since fourth grade, right? So when tickets went on sale for this KROQ festival with him headlining, I jumped on it and bought two tickets. No, I thought that I had seats and that he would open the festival - at noon, like the tickets said. Well, two days beforehand, I was looking up some information on it, and it turned out that no, Eminem wasn't coming on until 745 at night, there would be no seats - standing room only -and it's in Fontana, a place I've never been to before and was at least an hour away. In order to ensure I get good standing, I'd have to get there early and listen to bands I really don't care about. Seriously, once I saw Eminem, I'd be heading home. By that time - at night - people would be drunk, pressing up against me, I'm not guaranteed a good spot, spilling their alcohol on me, in a place that I'm not familiar with... As much as I love Eminem -and I would die defending him how amazing he is - it just wasn't worth it. So I decided not to go.

I knew I made the right decision both times because it felt right when I made them. I wasn't sad - bummed, sure, but not sad - and I knew something better would come along.

Like building character.

Being responsible.

An adult.

I'm not exactly sure how I feel about this.

Well, at least my twenty-first birthday party will have a Jack Sparrow impersonator.

Life is Beautiful

2010-09-19T08:22:00.000-07:00

I knew this year was going to be the best year of my life, and it's not even finished yet.

Cosmo did this study where if you have something to look forward to, your happiness level was dramatically increased than those who didn't. Let me tell you, I have many, many things to look forward to by the end of the year.

Take for instance this Saturday, where I will be going to an Eminem concert with Jessica. Do you realize that I've been waiting to see Eminem in concert since I was in the fourth grade? Sure, I had to wait ten years for it, but it's been a while since he was on the West Coast and I know - I know - that the wait is totally worth it.

Next, Goat and I are going to a hockey game - a Ducks game to be more specific. He's a huge fan, so I got us pretty good tickets.

Then there's Jack Sparrow at Disneyland, and no, I didn't come up with it but I totally should have.

After that, there's Knott's Scary Farm, Halloween, Comic-Con tickets on sale, Robert Downey Jr.'s Due Date comes out, my twenty-first birthday, finals/end of school year, Johnny Depp's The Tourist, Christian Bale's The Fighter (Do you see how crazy-similar the titles are? Totally a sign!) visiting my father, Christmas and then New Year's. The month of October is also when I'm supposed to meet with my Jack Sparrow impersonator.

It's like one week after another has something I'm anticipating, and this excitement has made me happier than I've been before. I know the things may seem minuscule - the movies or even the hockey game - but they mean a lot to me. And I can't wait - but I'll have to. And maybe this will somehow teach me patience.

Oh, and today? Well today is International Talk Like A Pirate Day. Practically a holiday made just for me and all those other pirates out there.

Life is beautiful and I'm so lucky to be living it right now... savvy?

Introducing Me to Myself

2010-09-14T22:49:00.000-07:00

So here's the deal - in the nearly twenty-one years of my life - I'm starting to get a grasp of who I am as a person. I've learned this predominantly the hard way because I'm THAT girl who understands things but doesn't actually get it until it happens to her. I'm not there yet - I may never fully know who I am in my entire being - but I'm on the road.

First and foremost, I'm a very impatient person. This has gotten better, due in large part to my friends and family and even because of Goat, but I'm definitely not cured or anything. And that's a good thing. I'm the type of girl who gets tired of the games after a couple of encounters, eff it all, and will just ask a guy out. If he says no, then I can move on. If he says yes, then I'm glad I don't have to waste any more time waiting around for him.

Speaking of which, I don't like to waste my time. If you're into me, then you're into me, and if you're not, please don't lead me on or feel obligated to go out with me just because you feel sorry for me. I can't make you like me and I understand that. Don't flatter yourself - I'll get over you.

I don't want to be conceited or anything, but I'm a nice person. Like a really nice person in relationships/dating/whatever. Not just with guys but with friends and family too. If I care about you, I want to make you happy. I realize that there are three responses to this - 1) I seem naive and easy to take advantage of. 2) You feel bad about yourself so my surprises make you uncomfortable and you can't deal with that. 3) It doesn't bother you. I've been taken advantage of and I realize there's a risk that it can happen again or that a guy may feel threatened or even lose interest because of my sweetness because being nice isn't exactly sexy. But I know that there's a guy out there for me who will accept me for that and even appreciate it. So I'm going to take a chance and be nice, whether it's going on a surprise adventure to check out some wildlife or taking you to a hockey game. I've found my inner-peace that I'm not going to regret it, no matter what happens.

I love Johnny Depp and Robert Downey Jr. and Eminem and (fill in name here). As shallow as it sounds, these actors and musicians help shape who I am, and that's it. End of story.

I get excited about random things. Especially upcoming plans.

Which brings me to the fact that I really like to plan things. I love organizing. Every day, I make a new To-Do lists and I never leave my planner at home.

BUT I'm learning - thanks in large part to Goat - to live in the moment when it comes to relationships/dating. Romance can't be planned. And I've never felt happier than I am right now.

I love to dance. In the car. When I'm excited. At the store. In hip hop. Pretty much in general.

I'm a really sweet person, but if you cross me or attack my friends and family, I will own you.

I'm not a fighter, but I promise I can cut you with my words.

I don't need grand gestures to prove someone is in love with me. The little, everyday things mean way more.

I'm a very trusting person but if you break that trust, it's pretty much gone forever. I say pretty much because I'm an optimist and want to believe there's good in everyone, which means that second, third, maybe even fourth chances will be given. But break me - snap my resolve - and THEN it's gone forever. Something inside of me will snap and I won't even be mad at you - I just won't care about you.

I will never have the perfect body and I will never, ever tan myself purposefully for a guy, or anybody for that matter. Which means my skin color won't be even, but it will be mine.

I have my own quirky style and I love boots.

I will never date a guy who wears skinny jeans or Crocs or who drives a Hummer.

I believe in true love, but I'm not waiting around for it to happen to me.

I'm very independent and rarely ask for help. But sometimes, I really need a shoulder to lean on and a comfortable silence because I haven't quite figured everything out yet and that can be overwhelming.

Sometimes I feel like it's me against the world, and that can get lonely.

I'll probably always be excitable and naive about certain things, but I'm open-minded enough to take in lessons life throws my way.

I notice things that not a lot of people notice and I remember a lot more than you would assume. I don't know if it's because I'm a writer and am trained to notice quirky characteristics or if I notice because I care, but I do.

And most important I love myself. I love who I am. Don't get me wrong, there are days when I wish maybe my stomach was tighter or my hair wasn't as frizzy or did I really have to get a zit THERE? But I like how I look and I like how I am as a person. And it's just so easy to be myself - I don't have to pretend or feel obligated to be something you want me to be because I don't fit into what want.

That's all I have so far. But I'm really looking forward to figure more of me out. It's like a crazy adventure only I'm allowed to go on. Because no one else will get the inside jokes. And to be honest, I really don't want them to.

I know that I'm left of center. I know that I'm quirky. I'm not asking you to like me. But accept me for exactly who I am and don't expect me to change for you because you'll be disappointed. Because I wouldn't want you to change for me. Who am I to tell you to change? I have family and friends who love me for me and who knows? Maybe even you will be lucky enough to bask in my light. I have enough to spare.

College Essays

2010-09-10T10:47:00.000-07:00

Before I begin this, I would like to thank my college counselor for telling me that I, as a transfer student, do not have to worry about writing an essay. Turns out, as a transfer student, I'm expected to write TWO.

Let me ask you a question: if you were guaranteed entry to your top university through some kind of program, your GPA, that sort of thing, would you take a few liberties with your essay? Because I'm pretty much guaranteed a spot - though my fingers are still crossed - and instead of writing the typical college essay about how (enter tragic moment that happened to you) shaped you or a typical About You essay, I think I may switch it up.

Like, for instance, wouldn't it be way more interesting to write about your first time having sex and how that particular incident made you who you are today rather than a divorce, death, or poverty? And hello, sex totally DOES shape a person, by the way. Maybe sometimes even more than the usual response. Maybe as a RESULT of those usual responses. Or maybe the first time you saw Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl. The first time you heard an Eminem song. Your first kiss. Your first love. Your best friend.

Or, if you had to write about yourself, I think it would be way more interesting to read about the fact that your role model is not some politician or good samaritan or anything like that, but Elle Woods from Legally Blonde, Cher from Clueless, Nat from Charlie's Angels, Lara Croft from Tomb Raider (as portrayed by Angelina Jolie) and Max from Dark Angel. That you don't have a crush on Brad Pitt but Johnny Depp and Joel McHale and Stephen Colbert and Jon Stewart. That you have your own funeral planned. That you like to go for random drives down PCH whenever you feel like it. That you like to dance in the aisles of supermarkets. That the best day of your life was at Alcatraz. That you and your brother are as close as middle finger over index finger kind of close. That you're a hopeless romantic and you try to infuse that in your writing. That you're a writer and a poet. That the only label you really see yourself as is blonde. That you like to order things from Amazon. That you know more about John Dillinger than most people because you're kind of in love with the guy. Who cares if he was a bank robber and also dead? Has anyone seen Titanic? Love can certainly go on. That you get amused and excited about the smallest things because you know that in life, the smallest things really count.

At least that's my humble opinion. I mean, think about it. If I was running for Miss America and I was asked what I wanted most for the world, I wouldn't answer world peace. That's lame and impossible. I would say, "I wish there were more bank robbers standing up for what they believe in and that they take the country by storm like John Dillinger did. That's what I want for the world - another John Dillinger." That's way more interesting - and honest! - than world peace.

We'll see what happens with MY college essays. But if I'm guaranteed entry, I'm going to take advantage of the fact that I tend to use the right side of my brain - the creative, artistic side - way more than my left (thanks Physiological Psychology!) and make sure I write essays the Admissions Board don't exactly forget.

The Simplistic Nature of Grand Gestures

2010-09-06T08:45:00.000-07:00

Ever since we girls were small and incredibly impressionable, we have been programmed to expect grand gestures from the opposite sex in terms of love and/or proof of love. Think about all the Disney movies that involve a princess, a prince, and some sort of beast (though not, of course, THE Beast): the prince risks his life to slay the beast thus saving the princess and proving his love to her.

When we grow up, we realize that beasts don't actually exist - literally, of course - so we gravitate towards chick flicks that still have those grand gestures we so crave that may seem a tad implausible, but at least they're more realistic than royalty and monsters. Noah hangs from a ferris wheel just to secure a date with Ally in The Notebook. Patrick sings "I Can't Take My Eyes Off of You" to Kat during her school-sanctioned soccer practice, enlisting the help of the school marching band and getting a detention in 10 Things I hate About You. Landon marries Jaime even though they both know she's going to die, but he does it because it's on her List in A Walk to Remember. In Love, Actually, the boy runs to the airport just to prove his love for the girl, Colin Firth learns a second language in order to propose to a woman he's known only a couple of weeks, and Hugh Grant goes to every single door in a rather large neighborhood in order to find the one woman he's smitten with. In A Cinderella Story, Chad Michael Murray leaves in the middle of a very important football game of which he's a quarterback and there are college recruiters (one from USC!) in order to go up to Hilary Duff's character, apologize, and then subsequently make out with her in the rain.

Now who wouldn't want a guy to do that for them? Any one of those grand gestures is beautiful, thoughtful, and magnificent. But is it something we girls should expect from men? Is it really fair?

I've been through my fair share of guys, and it's easy to paint every single guy similar to the last when, really, the only common element they may have is that any sort of relationship between me and him has failed. Just because Number 24 stood me up three times in a row, just because the Italian took advantage of my generous nature, and just because Ice Cream dumped me because his friends didn't think I was popular enough doesn't mean that I should worry that Goat or whatever guy I'm with will do the same thing.

Every man is different. I mean, okay, so every guy thinks about sex every six seconds and they all seem to rubberneck when a woman - who cares if she's pretty or not - walks by with a nice pair of breasts, but they're all different. And as such, we shouldn't expect them to act the same. We should trust in him that he's a good guy, we should trust in ourselves that we could choose a good guy to want to spend time with, and we should have faith in the universe that whatever happens will happen and nothing we do can prevent it.

And because every guy is different, we shouldn't expect ridiculously grand gestures from every single guy we're with. Personally, I'm not into a whole deal of romance. As silly as it sounds, I prefer a guy I can laugh with, be comfortable around, and be myself with. I don't need flowers and chocolates and love poems or anything lacking substance. That doesn't mean that I don't want to feel special, however. Even if I am simply dating someone, I want to feel desired. I want to feel like he wants to be with me, that we're just a little more than just friends.

My tragic mistake with grand gestures involved the Italian. I wanted to feel special because he wasn't actually making me feel special, so I would ask for love notes or flowers or chocolates or my favorite Valentine's Day candy that, no, does not taste like chalk. He, of course, would either buy these things in front of me, asking before he purchased them if this is what I wanted, or he would complain the whole time. We were both at fault. He should have done something in his nature, made some kind of effort to warrant me special and I shouldn't have asked him to do romantic things and then expect perfection when romance really wasn't in his genes.

What I now have to do is remind myself that grand gestures make for good movies but expectations for real men to do something similar is unfair and unpersonalized. I'm sorry, but for future reference, I would rather be proposed to in or adjacent to Alvin Karpis's cell in Alcatraz than on a beach or during a picnic or at a fancy restaurant where I almost choke on the ring because how was I supposed to know it was at the bottom of my champagne glass filled with ice water? Because Alcatraz actually means something to me, and the guy who actually wants to marry me should know that.

And maybe guys do partake in grand gestures but the simplicity of them gets drowned out by the grandness the movies portray. Maybe something as small as walking me to my car is a grand gesture. Number 24 never did that, and the Italian always complained whilst doing it. Maybe it was offering to cook me dinner even though he forgot to tell me not to eat before I came over so I wasn't hungry and he ended up cooking just for himself before putting in a movie. Maybe it's watching all three Pirate movies, even though he has no problem terming the third one as a "suckfest" straight to my face. Or maybe it's when he actually plans to go to a hockey game a month beforehand even though he doesn't really like to plan for anything.

Maybe personalized simplicity is the grand gesture, and these movies, with their scripted romance, fall just short of the mark.

Six Years of Goals

2010-09-04T09:02:00.000-07:00

If I were to ever meet my fourteen year old self, I would be the first in line to slap her across the face and then pull her into a tight hug. Because, really, she was kind of this brat who thought she knew everything when she was grasping for something to believe in after her grandfather died.

I recently found this folder of poems I wrote at that age while I was in Michigan. There were two main themes attached to the poems (songs, really), and one was infatuation and puppy love inspired by my first love A. The second is this rebellion against my mother, doing things that she didn't agree with. Like date a guy who was four and a half years older than me.

Luckily, I have learned my lesson (and also luckily, now that I'm twenty, four and a half years isn't as bad as when I was fourteen) and I'd also be the first to admit that I don't know everything, that maybe what Mom and Dad and Sue were saying wasn't because they wanted me to have a broken heart or to piss me off, but because they were just looking out for my well-being.

Another thing I found that was really interesting for me was that my fourteen year old self has a Goals That I Want to Accomplish List, just like me, at twenty, has. And it's just interesting to see the similarities and differences both lists have, which, in its own way, reveals that while maybe some beliefs have changed, others haven't, and as such, has actually become a part of who I am.

My fourteen year old lists consists of the following: (and those that are bolded have been accomplished, mind you.) Find someone who loves me for me. (Maybe it wasn't like the movies, but I know that I loved A and that he loved me.) Get my bellybutton pierced. (Yeah, don't want to get that one done anymore.) Fall in love. Go to England. Go to college. (Technically, I'm in college, so I'm doing that goal as we speak.) Become famous. (Maybe not obviously so.) Get married to the love of my life. Have four children (at least one girl). (I think if I have two kids, I'd be fine. But we'll see. I'm open to amending that one or leaving it.) Go bungee jumping. (Michigan Adventure style.) Get my driver's license. Go on a road trip the summer I graduate high school. (Okay, so this technically didn't happen, but the one I went on with Ben, my step-brother, totally makes up for it. Shenanigans doesn't even begin to cover what we went through for those twenty-four hours!). Kiss someone under the mistletoe. Kiss someone as the clock strikes midnight on the New Year. Do something really romantic on Valentine's Day. Teach A how to surf. Go snowboarding. Build a snowman. (I think I attempted to build I chick snowman with boobs and everything, but building a snowman is way harder than I thought. Thanks for lying straight to my face, Charlie Brown.) Have a real snowball fight. (With my brother, in Michigan.) Graduate high school. Makeout and dance in the rain. (I don't care how cliche it is, I still want this.) Watch a really romantic movie with my boo. (I'm not as gung-ho about this one as I was back then, actually. And I'm sorry for my terminology.) Let my family (both sides) meet A. (Yeah, not going to happen.) Record a Christmas album. (You have to admire my ambition.) Go to a USC game. Go to a Green Bay game when Brett Favre is still quarterback. (Never going to happen now!) Perform in front of a live audience. (Welcome to choir, speech, and school projects.)

Now, here is what my twenty year old self has come up with in terms of where she wants her life to go. Get a pilot's license. (Probably because I'm afraid of controlling something that could very well kill me and I want to conquer a fear. Plus, Papa always said it was a good idea to get one. Just in case.) Go to Chicago. See the Biograph Theatre, Dillinger's grave, and Little Bohemia. (One of the best times of my life - thanks Dad!) Meet Johnny Depp and have a conversation with him. Go to Alcatraz and into Alvin Karpis's cell. (Another amazing time in my life - thanks Dad x2!) Publish a book before getting my bachelor's degree. (I was actually so close to accomplishing this one...) Publish a poetry anthology. Travel everywhere. Meet Michael Keaton and have a conversation with him. Fall in love with someone as brooding as Bruce Wayne and someone as charming as Tony Stark and have them love me back. Meet Robert Downey Jr. and have a conversation with him. Be a guest on The Daily Show AND The Colbert Report. Go to Spike's Guys Choice Awards. See Eminem in concert. (This will be bolded, late September 25.) See ACDC in concert.

Obviously I have shifted from romance and bubbly love to more career-oriented goals, but as you can see, love is still important to me. And being loved back is important to me as well.

Maybe my fourteen year old self was a bit of a brat - a typical teenager determined to make her own path - and she did, for a while. She's still on that path, but much more open to what others have to say in terms of advice, even advice she doesn't want to hear. But she took a stand for something, fell down, and now she's standing in me, my twenty year old self. And even though we're different, I'm not going to let her down. Because she has potential, opportunity, and deserves the best in every aspect of life.

Plus, she makes lists just like I do, so she definitely has some redeeming qualities.

The Problem with Labels

2010-09-01T09:55:00.000-07:00

They lie.

No, seriously.

Have you ever picked up any food that has a label on it? Did you know they're allowed to lie on the labels? Like with Cheerios. It says it helps with cholesterol. But does it really? I don't know because they don't regulate what the labels say.

I feel like that's the same way in life. Since I've been single for a long time (and no, I'm not complaining), I've had a lot of time to think about relationships, especially my previous ones, and I've learned a lot about them and myself. Maybe you guys all know this, but it's only recently clicked for me since I've been seeing this guy we'll call Goat because my best friend's little sister calls him Goat, but I don't know why because he doesn't sound or look or feel like one. Oh, eleven year olds nowadays.

Anyways, I feel that in my previous relationships, I've always jumped at the chance to say, "Okay we're in a relationship. You're my boyfriend and I'm your girlfriend." Maybe it's my desire to grasp structure especially in something as uncertain as activities (such as dating, kissing, even sex) with the opposite sex. But it's also the desire to know, from the get-go, where we are and where we're going. "Okay, so we're in a relationship which means you're with me, I'm with you, no third parties, we're going to spend Friday and Saturday nights together and you're going to text me, blah, blah, blah." Of course, I am somewhat exaggerating, but every time two people enter into a relationship, there is a list of expectations that come with them and if their expectations match up for the most part, then it's all good. And when it doesn't, there's resentment because instead of doing something as simple as texting someone because they want to, they're doing it because they have to.

So when I first started dating Goat and I started learning more about him, I realized the fact that he doesn't like to plan nor does he have any expectation of where we're going freaks me out a little bit. Where's my structure? Do I hold your hand? Can I text you when I see a guy walking around in a muscle tee and looking extremely gay? Am I allowed to date other guys? If I don't want to, do I tell them I'm seeing someone else or is that not allowed? Can I have sex with you and not be considered a slut without an establishment of a relationship beforehand? (Not that I think women who do this are sluts, mind you, but you never know how guys view a girl.)

After talking to Jessie and Susieee (my step-mom) and even my own mother, I realized something. Every relationship is different. Actually, scratch that. Every encounter with the member of the opposite sex is different. Previously, I rushed things and instead of being excited that a guy texted or called me at all, I was wondering why he didn't do it when he normally did. I know I'm not the only person to blame, but my desire for structure overpowered my desire for romance. I'm not saying both are mutually exclusive, but you can't really have them equally. Planning for romance kind of takes the romance out of romance, doesn't it?

So with whatever I have with Goat, I'm not going to label it. I just tell my friends "I'm seeing someone" because I am. And that could mean anything. I'm not a girlfriend, he's not a boyfriend, and we're not under the restrictions the word "relationship" has. And I've found that I'm happy and this thing with Goat actually feels healthy.

So to answer my own questions, my structure has disappeared, at least in relation to this particular guy. I can hold his hand if I want to. I can totally text him if I see a guy in a muscle tee walking around as though he's God's gift when, really, he's God's gift to men. I'm allowed to date other guys, but I don't have to. And to be honest, I really don't want to. And yes, I can tell whoever does ask me out - if they ask me out - that I'm seeing someone. And of course I can have sex with him without being considered a slut, because, let's face it, if we've been on a number of dates where he hasn't tried anything yet, I think he knows me well enough to know I don't just sleep with anyone.

The best thing about being label-less with Goat is that it's the same for him. Because he's not a boyfriend, he doesn't have to text me or see me or spend time with me. But he does because he wants to. Because he saw some guy in Crocs or some girl in Uggs with their jeans tucked in it and he just had to share it because he thought of me.

And that makes me feel just a little bit extra special.

Planning to Go with the Flow

2010-08-30T09:56:00.000-07:00

I realize I haven't written in a while. I could blame many reasons for this, but I'll just be honest: I got lazy and my inspiration ran dry. I'm not entirely sure if I've recovered my muse or not, but I feel compelled to write, and that has to be a good sign, right?

All my life, I've been a planner. This probably stemmed from being the first-born, the first grandchild thrust with ridiculous expectations set from a particular group of grandparents, the fact that my father is also a planner, and that there have been many events that have been outside my control. Death, change, loss, disappointment, and the like is nothing new to me. And no matter how much I've tried to prevent it or to better it, I have failed. It was going to happen, despite my best efforts to the contrary.

Which is why I like to have structure. With structure comes control, and if I'm in control, I feel calm, collected, and accomplished. Before I go to bed, I think about things I have to do tomorrow, not with dread, but with anticipation. Hang up pictures on my walls? Do laundry? Write? If I'm especially bored in a lecture now that school has started, I flip open my notebook and pretend to take notes when, really, I'm making lists. Like To-Do Lists. Those are my favorites. When I check off something I've done, I get the satisfaction one might feel for doing well on a test or achieving orgasm.

My friends think I'm ridiculous. And, okay, I can sort of see where they're coming from. Planning a time to make plans may seem a little excessive, no matter how normal it is to me. But I think they love me for it too, and whether they admit it or not, without some of my plans, events and things may not have happened. Plus, there was a study in Cosmo that said people who have something to look forward to were happier than those who weren't. So even a credible source was justifying my lifestyle.

But in my twenty years, I've realized that in some aspects of your life, there shouldn't be plans. And when it comes to courtship, there shouldn't be any plans.

This was obviously hard for me to grasp, especially since I'm seeing this guy and I like spending time with him. There was a point in our courtship when I was worried I had ruined what we had by asking to have a sex talk (to which he replied, "You really like to plan for everything, don't you?") when really, I just wanted to be prepared. Things just felt... off. But then I talked to my step-mom and she said something so simple and so life-changing that it stopped me: "You can't ruin it if he's the right guy."

Then I talked to my best friend Jessie because a girl can't just talk to one person, and she told me that the guy should be lucky to be with me. That I'm beautiful and smart and talented and if the guy can't see it, then he's a douche and I shouldn't waste my time on him. And really, there was no reason why I should be so caught up in this one guy, especially if we're just dating. I should be happy with myself, and normally I am. You shouldn't make plans around a guy who you're not sure will call you to hang. You should live your life and if it's meant to be, it will.

And then, life just clicked. I realized that I should enjoy the moment, enjoy the time we have together. Make plans means there's some form of obligation. But if there are no plans and he does text me from Vegas to tell me that he's staring at this guy who's wearing socks and Crocs (disgusting, by the way), it's because he wants to, not because he has to. And surrendering, putting your trust in the universe and knowing it really, truly does have your best interest at heart, is kind of liberating. And I've been happier now than I was wondering if I should make plans, deciding not to go to a movie in fear that he may text me.

Because once that clicked for me, let me tell you, he texted me while I was in Prince of Persia. Then he texted me the next night. And then he texted me a couple of days later. And it was like a happy surprise, a reward for having faith. Not only in the universe or in him, but in myself. That I am worth it. That he should be lucky to spend time with me.

And okay, I know I'm going to have trouble with it. So I'll just do what my father does: I'm going to plan to not have plans. Because that totally works.

Or I'll just plan something that actually constitutes me having plans. Like my twenty-first birthday party that, okay, is maybe exactly three months away, but hello - it's my twenty-first and there's so much I want to happen that it needs to be planned so far in advanced.

The Karpis Girl

2010-04-25T16:49:00.000-07:00

Have you just liked someone or something, and multiple people you may or may not be acquainted with just look at you and say, "How did you get into that?"

Yeah, welcome to my life. Apparently, due to the fact that I have blonde hair, big boobs, and am from Southern California, I am expected to be into certain (and normally feminine-fashionista) things. Except I tend to be nothing what you'd ever expect.

I'm kind of a nerd. And I mean that in the best way. I'm smart - both with grades and with random topics. However, I do admit; I have my moments. Sometimes, I don't get jokes and they have to be explained to me. But the joke is still funny once I do get it. Anyways, I'm a nerd, especially when I get really, really into something. And no, fashion isn't something I'm into most of the time.

Piracy and 1930s gangsters are two topics I am really into and know a lot - more than any average citizen - about. I love learning about things I'm into, so I read and watch as much as I can. And since one of my two favorite gangsters stayed in Alcatraz for nearly twenty six years (the longest inmate to ever do that, by the way), I had to do research on Alcatraz, and even more than that, I had to go to Alcatraz.

Allow me to introduce myself: Hello, I'm the [Alvin] Karpis girl. The people who worked at Alcatraz actually addressed me as such because a couple of months ago, I wrote their park system, asking about his cells and time in the bakery. Duh. If I'm going to make the trek up to NorCal, I want to get (my father and grandparents') money's worth. Plus, I want it to mean something to me. The thing is, I got a response back, and the president of the Night Tours actually escorted me personally to his cells, let me go in them - for a gangster geek like me, I was in Heaven (despite being on Devil's Island).

But what everyone kept asking me, including my grandparents, asked me was this: "How did you get into Karpis?" "Why Karpis?" Because apparently it makes sense if I got into Al Capone or even John Dillinger. No one really knows Alvin Karpis even though he was the lone 1930's gangster (and Public Enemy Number One) to survive. Prison. Shoot outs. Being in the same room as J. Edgar Hoover. He's a survivor. But I like the fact that no one knows him - it's like I have a secret; a big beautiful secret that if you're not in on, hey, guess what, your loss.

So the question is kind of offensive to me. However, instead of retorting, "Why the fuck not?" or "Because he's Alvin FUCKING Karpis," I refrain. Because I have to remember - these people aren't in on the secret. They don't know how great he is. So I explain that while reading Bryan Burrows' Public Enemies, I really got into Karpis's story (along, of course, with Dillinger's). But it's more than that. And that's a secret I will keep. Because people who aren't in on the secret don't get it. And having to explain it? Well, that's like having to explain a joke. Some people still find the joke amusing (me), but the majority of the population still won't get it - and you're the weird one.

I'm weird enough as it is. The only two people who haven't asked me that question are my parents. As much as they're different, they recognize that my eccentricities make me who I am. Like the fact that I have Karpis's mug shot as my background. My mom didn't even blink. That's just who I am. And I think they love me for it.

Plus, let's be honest, I teach them things they'd probably never know. So when they're old and are playing Trivia Pursuit and there's a question about piracy or gangsters, they'll look at the sky (because I'll be in my mansion away from them doing my thing while they do theirs) and say, "Thank you Heather." And I'll say, "No biggie."

Dear Cute Guy who sits two rows in front of me in my math class and looks like Aaron Eckhart except with a squared face (aka Phil),

2010-04-06T18:02:00.000-07:00

Hi.

No, I haven't forgotten about you, even while I was on a rollercoaster with another guy who I may or may not like anymore and who may or may not be interested in me to text me in order for us to hang out again. But I digress. Obviously a lot has changed since I last wrote to you.

Including the whole part where we talked today. For the first time.

I stayed after class to ask the professor a question regarding our upcoming midterm and found myself standing next to you as you watched the professor go over another problem with another student. Maybe it was because it was just you and me or maybe it was something else, but you started talking to me. And despite the little flutter in my heart at just being in your presence, I felt completely at ease with you. And that's probably why I asked you your name before introducing myself to you.

You left after that, but...

You should probably know (though you probably never will) that when we shook hands, I felt sparks fly. It was something I have never felt before (much like my love at first sight encounter with Joe from Tahoe) which is why I'll never forget it. Who knows what will happen between us, if anything, but that moment is something that will stay with me always. Because you made me believe in something I always knew was out there but wasn't sure if it would ever happen to me.

So thank you.

I'll see you Thursday.

And if you need a study buddy, I'm available.

Valentine's Day

2010-02-15T10:03:00.000-08:00

Yes, I'm a day late. But do you know why? I was actually really busy yesterday!

I've always been somewhat indifferent to Valentin'es Day only because it was a rare occurence when I actually had a boyfriend during that time (and said ex would ruin the magic by buying his gifts for me right in front of me after asking if this was what I wanted...). But I'm not one of those people who hate Valentine's Day or is bitter because it's just a reminder to all us single people we're still single. I don't particularly care because I don't mind being single. Most of the time.

Valentine's Day, nevertheless, has always been special to me because it is the holiday I used to share with my Papa. I mean, we celebrated all holidays together, but this one was special. Every Valentine's Day, we always exchanged Valentines, and we were always each other's Valentine. I remember he would buy a whole box of those cards and only end up using two - one for me and one for my brother. Sometimes he would buy two boxes in order to make sure our genders weren't threatened one way or the other. And he would always give us a five dollar bill in the Valentine. I thought I was the coolest kid on the block. On my end, I normally hand-made my Valentines for him, and after looking through my grandparents' things years later, I saw that they kept a lot of them.

We got Bingo when I was in first grade, and you can tell by his unique name that I was creative even then. Of course, after a couple of years, I was unsatisfied with simply just naming him. Bingo had to have a birthday too. So Papa told me I could pick any day, and that would be Bingo's birthday. So I picked Valentine's Day, because it would make the holiday even more special than it already was for us.

When Papa was in the hospital, I went out of my way to make him the best Valentine ever - I drew a heart and wrote him a poem, and then I taped candy hearts on it that had messages I wanted him to read. The one that went right in the center was 'You're my hero.' And he kept those up too. He died a week and a day later, and though we couldn't be together for our holiday, at least I got to send him my Valentine.

Even though Papa's gone, we're still each other's Valentine. Simple as that.

But Valentine's isn't about loving someone else who also happens to be your partner. Valentine's Day is about love in general. My brother signed a Valentine card with all of our inside jokes in it, making me laugh at seven o'clock in the morning. Mom and I ran errands and sang to Phil Collins and Rod Stewart. I even visited my old park that Papa would take my to every weekend just so I could swing. Yeah, I was the oldest person actually using the equipment, but I didn't care. I took an online Administration of Justice quiz, and I think I kicked ass on it. I read and I wrote. And then me and my other Valentine, my best friend in the entire world, Jessie, went out for Tai food and then laughed our asses off at the movie Valentine's Day. It was one of the best Valentine's Days I've had in a while because I felt loved and I felt special.

But I loved myself too. I wanted to have fun, boy or no boy, so I did. And it was one of the best nights of my life.

And when I got home to find the boy I liked commented on one of my Facebook pictures? Well that, my friends, was just icing on an already delicious cake.

On being a Pussycat Doll

2010-02-10T16:45:00.000-08:00

Okay, let's get one thing straight: I'm not officially a Pussycat Doll. But I consider myself one. Just like I consider myself a Cosmo girl.

But it's because I believe in what their message says: confidence in your career and your sexuality, and who you are as a person. Being ambitious is actually a good thing. Being sexy is not being slutty. I could go on.

Anyways, the reason I'm talking about the Pussycat Dolls is because for the last thirty days, I have been doing their workout pretty religiously. Okay, so to better understand it, I should probably explain the workout to you. The workout is broken down into three different dances - Robin Antin is the creator and choreographer of the Pussycat Dolls, and she, along with four other girls, teach you the dance moves. Then you "perform" the dance routines to songs such as "Don't Cha" and "Buttons." This is preluded by a warm-up and followed by a cool-down.

Now, if you know me, I absolutely love to dance. To be, dancing isn't exercising, it's expression. It's freedom. So I love it. Plus, the moves are fun and sexy so it boosts my own confidence.

Many people have criticized the workout because the dances are really only thirty seconds, give or take, but this is great because it makes each workout (if you break it down by each dance) about twenty to thirty minutes. At least I love it because it's not too long but it's not too short.

The most important thing, to me anyways, is the effect of the dancing not only on my body but on my mind and my spirit. Thirty days have gone by and I already notice a difference, especially concerning my legs and arms. But that's not why I'm doing this (though I do want a Kathy Griffin rockin' bikini bod by summer). Well, that's a lie. I do want to tone my body. But feeling the effects of dancing has me doing it for other reasons as well.

Interestingly enough, working out makes me eat healthier. After working out, I grab a bowl of fruit, not a cookie. I'm just not in the mood for anything heavy and sugary, you know? Not when I busted my booty. Now, that's not to say I'm a crazy health nut. I'm not. I still eat cookies and croissants, but not as much as I used to.

The most important thing though? I love myself. Not that I never did. I guess what I'm saying is that I appreciate myself more because I'm working hard for it. When I look in the mirror, I see the elements of my hard work, not what I have to work on. (Though I do have those days, just like anybody.) And I'm much more confident in my body which makes me more confident with who I am as a person.

Being a Pussycat Doll is empowering. And I love it. I love me. And not to be arrogant, but some guys... I think they love me too.

One little word

2010-02-08T17:00:00.000-08:00

Okay, I'm going to be honest. Before something happened to me today, I truly believed that one word was just too simple. How could one word be so entirely powerful? Even marriage promises are two - "I do" - (unless, of course, if you want to pirate it up and use "Yargh").

But I digress.

I'm only twenty years old so I don't have too much life experience.

However, I must admit that this particular word completely knocked me off my feet. Of course, the circumstance must be very particular - the speaker of the word, how this person says it, the history of the two of you; the list goes on. And the circumstance which it was uttered, at least for me, was very particular, and worked out in my benefit. Very much. I have no idea if it means anything, really. Who's to say? But it still makes me feel good just thinking about it.

The word? It wasn't love or fuck nor was it amen or hallelujah. It wasn't a yes or a no. It wasn't a maybe or a like.

It was hello.

Do you really know what the word hello means? It means 'I notice you and I want you to know that I want to acknowledge you.' If someone you don't know (especially a cute, really tall basketball player) tells you hello, you should realize just how lucky you are. In that one instance, you're special.

Now, I finally get why Renee Zellweger said and Beyonce sang, "You had me at hello." I get it now.

And hopefully, more hellos will follow. :)

A particular sort of life experience

2010-02-01T16:39:00.000-08:00

Okay, so for those of you who don't know me, I am highly attracted to older men. Like, seriously. It's strange and off-kilter but it never really bothered me all that much.

But I have a surprise for all of you.

The guy that I am crushing on right now (Can a twenty year old 'crush' on someone?) is a year younger than me. Right. I know. (And no, he is not cute guy in my math class who looks like Aaron Eckhart.) Let me give you a little time to digest that for a moment.

Okay. Are you good?

Let's get on with it then. Anyways, I went to the homecoming game which was last Wednesday (homecoming game being basketball, not football) on some whim. Thank you intuition. And a lot of the players are in my criminal justice classes because the coach is friends with my professor and tells his players to take the classes because they're easy. And they are. But that's beside the point.

And I recognized this guy from my class, and there was this immediate attraction to him. When he played, I could not take my eyes off of him. He was like this bright, burning flame and I was this moth, hopeless from the moment that my eyes caught sight of him.

Now, I'm a complete wreck. In the best sort of way. You know how when you're in middle school and you have a crush on the jock while you're the shy artistic nerd and he suddenly becomes the sun to your earth - you completely revolve around him? Yeah, that's me but at a college level. I mean, time goes fast when he's around and slow when he's not, but he's not my entire life. He's more like the moon to my earth. I think about him a lot, but only at certain points in time because I have a life besides him, and my life doesn't feel over when he's not there because I know I'll see him eventually.

I have no idea if he even knows I'm alive. I mean, I think he's glanced over at me a couple of times, but I can't exactly tell at a basketball game. And I would talk to him except he sits on the right side of the room in class while I'm in the middle. Hell, I don't even know if he even knows my name.

But since I've matured (shocking but true), I've learned that I need to live in the now, and who knows if anything will happen between us? But it makes me feel good while I'm here so I had better enjoy it. It's been nearly two years since my last relationship, and I'm at the point where I do want a new, fresh, healthy relationship. If it lasts a day or a year, it doesn't matter. I just want to fall for a little while.

And though I'm keeping my options open, I'm hoping it will be with this guy just because it'll be new, different, and exciting.

And one hell of a life experience.

Johnny Depp is not dead

2010-01-24T08:29:00.000-08:00

I hate internet death rumors, but I haven't really been affected by them.

Up until this one, where apparently Johnny Depp died instantly in a car crash in Bordeaux, France, and the crash was induced by alcohol.

I wouldn't let myself believe it until I did some research, and of course, the whole thing is bullshit.

I don't understand why people do what they do, nor do I understand why people need attention by saying a beloved celebrity has died. Especially my beloved celebrity. If they hurt him, they hurt me too, and that's that.

I really don't even want to think about what would happen if he really had passed. I can't. So I won't. But I know when he does, he'll be immortal because that's just the way he is. And if anything, he'll live forever in my poems, my stories, my essays, my clothes, my movies, my posters, my journal, and most importantly, my heart. Because I won't let him die.

A connection of sorts

2010-01-22T10:20:00.000-08:00

Today is the second anniversay of Heath Ledger's passing.

Last year, I wrote a song about him, one that I'm really proud of. This year, I'm hoping to see The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus, his last work (and the fact that Johnny Depp is also in it is just icing on the cake).

When Heath was alive, I thought he was incredibly talented, but I honestly felt indifferent about him. I loved him in 10 Things I Hate About You and A Knight's Tale, but Johnny Depp has always been my number one. But I have to admit that instead of being the typical pretty boy actor, he did quirky things. In fact, he wanted to have Johnny Depp's career - he wanted to choose things, not based on how much money it would make, but because of a script.

The day he died, I was in the car with my ex-boyfriend and his mom, and they were taking me home. We were listening to KIIS FM, and when the announcement was made, I didn't believe it. I couldn't. When I got home, I immediately went on Perez Hilton and there, in black and white, was the truth. He had died.

The first thing I did was call my best friend Jessie. We weren't really talking then, due to said ex-boyfriend, but that didn't matter to me. When we were in middle school, we divided our men, as we called them. I had Johnny Depp and Billy Boyd while she had Orlando Bloom and Heath Ledger. In a way, we bonded over Heath Ledger, and through his death, we eventually managed to save our friendship and become best friends once more.

Then there was The Dark Knight. I, like everyone else, saw it for Heath Ledger's portrayal of The Joker. It was, by far, his best performance. I don't believe that the role killed him at all. And I believe he truly deserved his Oscar, his Golden Globe, and every other award he won postmortem. I don't care that he died when he won. He deserved them. He was already getting Oscar talk BEFORE he died. Just because he died shouldn't change anything.

I'm not sure how to explain how I feel about him because I never met him, I wasn't crazy about him when he was alive, and truly, I'm no one special. But I feel this connection to him now that he isn't there. I talk to him sometimes, and I like to think that somehow, he listens. I'm not sure why I feel this strongly about someone in death rather than life, but I'm sure I'm not the only one.

Currently, I have pictures of him hanging in my room. He's smiling in all of them - you know, that boyish, disarming smile - and it's bittersweet for me to look at them. But it always makes me smile. Actually, he always makes me smile.

It's definitely weird, being connected to someone I don't even know. But we're all connected in some way, aren't we, more so than with others?

And connections, especially strong ones, are always muses in disguise. Why do you think I'm constantly writing about Johnny Depp?

But this day belongs to Heath, and to commemorate him, here is a part of the song I wrote for him last year. It might not mean a lot, but it does so for me.

Heath likes to caress my face

With a delicate feather from his wings
And I try so hard to stay awake
Because I don’t want him to leave just yet
He whispers promises in my ear
And it sounds just like a bittersweet lullaby
He wipes the tears from my eyes
And disappears with the night

Dear Cute Guy who sits two rows in front of me in my math class and looks like Aaron Eckhart except with a squared face

2010-01-19T18:57:00.000-08:00

Hi.

So you probably don't know me - actually, you don't know me. At all. I'm not even sure you know I exist except I think you were looking at me once. But I can't be certain.

But my heart jumps a little bit whenever you walk into class and my eyes stray over to you as the teacher starts talking about sets and subsets and everything that I can't remember off the top of my head.

I'm sorry. Sometimes, I ramble a bit. Anyways, I just wanted to tell you that I haven't felt this way in a while. Not that I'm in love with you or even like you in that way. But you make me nervous, and being nervous around a cute boy is always welcome. It makes me feel silly and I really like feeling silly.

So thank you.

--Heather (The blonde girl with freckles.)

P.S. - If you could just acknowledge my presence in any way, it would make my day.

There's just something about Robert Downey, Jr.

2010-01-18T09:27:00.000-08:00

When I was a kid and Ally McBeal was still a show that my parents were enthused about watching, I remember catching the previews for it on my favorite television network, Fox. And to this day, I remember seeing Robert Downey, Jr. as some lawyer who I can't remember. But even at ten years old, I knew there was something special about him. I can't explain why or how or anything like that, but I knew I was drawn to him.

Then, a few years after that, me and my now ex-boyfriend went to see Zodiac, and there he was again. Though Robert's (I may call him Robert?) part wasn't big, it didn't matter. He still had his easy charm and confident swagger that caused him to steal every scene he was in.

When I had first encountered Robert, I was too young to comprehend all the scandal and problems he was going through. After watching Zodiac, I knew more about it and felt that he was truly coming to his own, that no matter how many times he came back in this entertainment world, he would somehow succeed. I try to rtationalize why, at my age and with my uninformed mind, I believed in him. He would get clean and be okay and then he wouldn't. It was like a bad cycle that seemed endless. But me trying to think logically about faith would be like trying to define love. It's not quite possible. All I knew at the time was that somehow, he was going to succeed, and I would be one of the many people behind him, not the first in line but definitely not the last, waiting for that day.

That day finally came when Iron Man opened with Robert as the star. He was a super-hero; an arrogant, intelligent, and very attractive super-hero. The ultimate deadly weapon and an exaggerated version of the actor himself. The cast, the script, the effects, and Mr. Jon Favreau as director were all superb. There wasn't just one person who made the movie. But I went because of Robert (and because my brother wanted to see it). That was Robert's comeback, and since then, he's been on fire.

His beautiful wife is probably the biggest reason he's stayed on the straight and narrow, along with his beloved son. (This, of course, is all conjecture on my part, so please don't quote me.) But above all else, Robert had to want it. He had to want to be clean, better, focused.

And we are so lucky he wanted it badly enough.

Last night, Robert won a Golden Globe for his portrayal of Sherlock Holmes even though the safe choice would have been Daniel Day-Lewis in Nine. Both phenominal actors nominated with other amazing actors. But Robert has never been the safe choice which is probably why I bet on him in the first place.

What can I say? He hasn't let me down yet.

Hot Tub Time Machine

2010-01-16T18:46:00.000-08:00

Check out that title to this post. That, my friends, is a real movie. And guess who's going to be the first in line to see it? (And no, I'm not kidding about any of this, by the way.)

Now, I must say that I am a proud, independent woman who thinks for herself and does what she wants to. But when an actor goes on The Soup to promote an independent movie that also happens to star John Cusack, then I have no problem doing exactly what they tell me to do or see whatever movie they tell me to see. Even if that movie is called Hot Tub Time Machine.

I think maybe the biggest reason I'm excited to see this movie is because I'll actually get see John Cusack in a film where he's not cynical about something. Like in 2012, but funny. Don't get me wrong. John is perfect at doing the cynical thing, but I can't wait for him to make me laugh. Intentionally.

Plus, the cast itself is great. I have loved Rob Corddry since The Daily Show and he stole every single scene in What Happens in Vegas (Why else would you see that movie?) because of his dry wit. I swear, The Hangover was hilarious, but if Rob was in it? It would be even funnier.

And let's not forget Chevy Chase! He went on The Soup to promote the movie, and if it wasn't for him, I probably wouldn't have found out about this diamond in the rough.

So excuse me if I'm as excited for this movie as I am for Iron Man 2 (but not as excited as I am for Alice in Wonderland). Maybe if you saw the trailer, you would be excited too.

Trailer <--- Oh! And look! There it is!

Check it out.

I know it might seem silly, and you cynical John Cusack impersonators might even say it's stupid. But luckily for me, I don't listen to people (unless they have a nice face, are decidedly older than me and of the opposite sex, and have acting and/or singing talent) because I really am a strong, independent woman.

So go see this movie, out March 19! It would be stupid not to.

The Last Moments of Freedom

2010-01-10T21:33:00.000-08:00

As the clock ticks away the minutes of my freedom due to school starting tomorrow, I can't help but recollect this past winter break. Currently, my brother and I are watching a documentary of The Simpsons because it's turned 20 (I'm, like, two months older, by the way) and we are laughing and reminiscing because that's what we do.

But when it comes to winter break, I would have to say that this is probably the best one I've ever experienced. I mean, don't get me wrong. It started out really rough. We couldn't go anywhere because we didn't want to waste gas, we were living off of Top Ramen, and we didn't have a Christmas on Christmas.

However, we went to see our father up in Michigan, and we got to play in the snow. Like, real snow. But there was a heater in the house, so it balanced out. You know it's cold when you breathe and you see your breath, but when you inhale, you choke on that previous breath. Oh, and Dad hid our Christmas present in the snow and gave us treasure maps to find it complete with helpful stick figures. Our presents were hundred dollar bills. Yeah, my father is... Well, I'll let you fill in the adjective. My preference is unique.

When we came home (thankfully with no delays concerning airports - you never know with Atlanta), money was still crazy tight, but we had sunshine.

And then, a miracle happened. We got some money - not a lot - and had a real Christmas. (A real Christmas that involved a palm tree as a Christmas tress and no unwrapping gifts unless Amazon boxes count.) And being somewhat spoiled, I got what I asked for.

For New Years, we kept it on the lowdown. Mom was falling asleep in her chair while me and Patrick watched Jennifer Lopez attempt a comeback in a gold catsuit with Ryan Seacrest and Dick Clark. The ball dropped, and the first thought that popped in my head was happiness and family - the most important thing in my life. Followed, of course, by Johnny Depp.

Oh, and then we went to Disneyland. TWICE. Can you believe it? Of course, I experienced my fair share of irony there (I've been walking into this park since I was kid, every time seeing that Mad Hatter hat. The one day I actually attempt to buy it, they decide they're not selling it anymore. It's okay. I ordered one online, but still.); I always seem to. But both times were amazing, and luckily, I did everything I needed to do there. The fireworks brought tears to my eyes, but that was to be expected, and I zonked once my head hit the pillow. That's how you know you've had a good day - how tired you are once it's come to a close.

I've been letting my inner Pussycat Doll out with their workout tape and dancing. I've been a pirate more than a number of times. I've been playing with my dogs. I've been listening to Frank Garrett with my brother. I've been shopping with my mother. I've been playing in the snow with my father. I've been writing my stories. And I've been smiling, even during the tough times.

And you know what? I'm pretty tired.

Mind, Body, and Soul: 8 2010 Resolutions

2010-01-01T16:13:00.000-08:00

For whatever reason, I have this feeling that 2010 is going to be nothing short of extraordinary - even life-changing - for myself. Because, numerologically speaking, it is my 8 year, I have made up eight New Year's Resolutions for this year that will benefit my mind, my body, and my spirit.

1) Read all of Jane Austen's work, as well as the complete collection of Sherlock Holmes.
I have read Pride and Prejudice, Sense & Sensibility, and finished Emma today so I have four more stories to go where Miss Austen is concerned, and have started A Study in Scarlet with Mr. Holmes.

2) Work-out - in some way - twice a week.
Not to lose weight, but to tone up. Plus, exercise gives you endorphins, endorphins make you happy, and happy people don't shoot their husbands. They just don't.

3) Maintain my 4.0 GPA.
Kind of self-explanatory...

4) Finish the five stories I have finished/planned.
If I can write 14 in a year, 5 is no big deal.

5) Write and send in 1 10,000 - 15,000 word story.
Just for the experience, just to be able to say that I can. And who knows what'll happen once I take a chance?

6) Write poems so my total is 300.
I think this won't be too bad. I love writing poetry, and 89 won't be too many compared to last year's resolution.

7) Every night, before going to bed, think about absolutely nothing.
Because I am a being that thinks about things all the time. This will humble and relax myself, and maybe my being will be more content and calm with life.

8) Really trust my intuition.
Because it's always write, and it's a part of myself. And it always works in my favor and wants to help me. If not me, then who am I to trust?

Eight seems like a big number, but I think I'll be able to accomplish them because they're things that are good for me, and they're things that I want to do. :) So happy New Year's all. And happy New Decade. A new beginning, far from any sort of ending.

Resolutions of 2009

2009-12-31T23:17:00.000-08:00

So here were last year's resolutions. Let's see how much I've accomplished, shall we? (And yes, tomorrow, I'll have new ones posted.)

Resolutions of 2009

1) Finish the three stories I have started.
Yup, accomplished that. Actually, I totally did more than that. In 2009, I finished not only those three stories, but a total of 14 stories. So suck on that.

2) Write poems that total 230.
I didn't actually do that, but I came close. In my poetry folder, I have a total of 211 poems. Poems, to me, are more difficult to write than stories because the story is smaller and I don't want to say the same thing over and over again. Plus, they're short, and I have to be in the mood to write poetry when I'm always writing stories.

3) Give up fast food.
Oh yeah, did that. That was a lot easier than I ever expected. Once I make my mind up about something, it's easy to just do it if I really want to. And I really wanted to do that. And I did. I think I had McDonald's once, and it tasted so greasy, so salty, so gross after being without it for so long.

4) Collect every Johnny Depp and Christian Bale movie.
Haha, no. Um... I'm getting there, but once I get a job (Ha!) and have extra spending money. But I'm kind of there.

5) See Public Enemies five times in theatres! (It would be a record if I did.)
Okay I saw it four and a half times. So I was seriously close. And I own the DVD. So it still kind of counts. A little.

So I was nearly more successful than I thought. Not because I'm not disciplined, but because my mind is always changing. But it was a good year. I remember it quite vividly.

And I can't wait until 2010.

And so the lists begin...

2009-12-23T15:54:00.000-08:00

So at the end of every year, every magazine ever makes up some lists that deal with whatever genre the magazine is. I really don't have a genre to myself, but you now how I love to make lists...

Sexiest Man Alive: Johnny Depp. Duh. But let me go into why. Personally, I am fascinated by his face - I particularly love his nose and cheekbones. And his smile that lights up his face. And his eyes you can simply drown in. But besides all of that, he is completely and utterly talented, gracious with his fans, and most of all, humble. He's sexy because he doesn't try to be sexy. And I am irrevockably in love with him.

Sexiest Smart Guy: John Cusack. If you read some of his blogs on the Huffington Post, you can immediately feel his passion. He knows what he's talking about things. He has an impish grin and beautiful black eyes with matching hair I wouldn't mind running my fingers through. Plus, he's my future husband.

Sexiest Action Star: Christian Bale. (He was totally blackballed from People's list, can you believe it?) He proves that it's possible for a person in Hollywood to have both good looks and talent. He does his own stunts (most of the time) and infuses depth in his characters. And have you seen those arms? Damn!

Sexiest Badass: Clint Eastwood.

Sexiest Dancer: Christopher Walken.

Sexiest Doctor: Hugh Laurie as Dr. Gregory House.

Sexiest Crime Fighter: Mark Harmon as Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

Sexiest Accent: Gerard Butler.

Sexiest Bond: Daniel Craig.

Sexiest Troublemaker: Johnny Knoxville.

Sexiest Rapper: Eminem.

Sexiest Double-Timer: Joel McHale.

Sexiest Brat Packer: Judd Nelson.

Sexiest Ghost: Heath Ledger.

Sexiest Darcy: Matthew Macfadyen.

Boys, boys, boys

2009-12-21T17:17:00.000-08:00

Since the year is coming to a close, and because it is only natural to want to look back at what was in terms of what will be, I decided to indulge my analytical mind but only if it would compromise and let me think about boys. Because I do so love thinking about them and won't resist any excuse to do just that.

But instead of focusing on merely this past year, I have decided to look back on my entire life and see the conclusion of which I have so recently drawn.

True, I have only been in one serious relationship that lasted for about a year and a half, but I felt I learned a whole helluva lot from it. There are certain qualities that I have consistently desired in a potential boyfriend - we have the usual trust, honesty, mutual respect, and support. Then there are my preferences - a sense of humor, intelligence and wit, good teeth, tall... The list goes on and on.

But the biggest quality I find I am very attracted to is ambition. I like it when a guy knows what he wants and goes after it, who doesn't cheat himself of his full potential. This, of course, can lead to arrogance or confidence depending on the guy, traits I don't generally mind unless he's a complete dick about himself. But I digress.

Another important factor in my quote unquote Captain Charming (because I'm not fond of princes if I do say so myself) is definitely chemistry. I'm sorry, but I need to be physically and emotionally attracted to a guy before I consider an actual relationship. I don't care how that shallow it makes me sound, it's true.

I am proud to say that I've grown out of my whole bad boy phase (as every girl will... maybe) only because my patience will not allow me the time to indulge in their silly, ego-building games. And I don't want a guy who's an excessive stoner/alcoholic. Sorry, but I've had too many personal experiences with the type, and they've all ended in nothing short of misery. I do want a guy who can make me laugh, but I find that if he thinks everything's a joke, I can't depend on him to console me, or even to take me seriously for that matter (especially because I know I can be hard to take seriously anyways).

Right now, I find I'm attracted to the brooding types. This combines the mysteriousness of a bad boy, but makes him so much more interesting because he's so confident in himself that he doesn't need to brag about anything. And I always find that those who say less have decidedly more interesting things to say than those who talk all the time. Who knows if that will change in the future? And maybe future experience will give me cause to reasses my priorities in what I'm looking for the guy once more.

But hey, experience is always appreciated.

I must conclude that, however, that accents will most certainly never go out of style.

Needles and the like

2009-12-20T15:59:00.000-08:00

I hate needles.

I mean, I don't really mind all that much at getting a shot or anything like that, but I am strangely fascinated and yet horribly terrified of the needle actually piercing my flesh and then touching the insides of my body. It's kind of like a car crash - I don't WANT to look, but my fatal sense of curiosity refuses to allow me to look away.

I had to take a blood test last year, and I was only consolable by a certain picture of Christian Bale from American Psycho. The guy taking my blood asked why I had it, and when I explained, he chuckled, and we started talking about how amazing that movie was.

Then he removed one vial and started on another. I was flummoxed! TWO vials?? I wasn't a bloodbank and he wasn't a decidedly attractive vampire - why could he want TWO vials of my blood? But I didn't ask. Apparently, it was assumed that I knew they'd be taking two. Pssh. Whatever.

Surprisingly, however, I must admit that it didn't hurt TOO bad.

Tuesday, I have to go in to get my blood tested for some genetic heart thing. I hope my John Cusack shirt arrives tomorrow. Other than that, I'm fully prepared: I will be bringing my Johnny Depp bag with me, and of course, my Jane Austen collection. Hopefully, they'll let me read while they invade my body with foreign and pointy objects. At least that way, the prick of the needle can be easily imagined as Mr. Darcy getting a little caught up in the moment...

An anniversary to be proud of

2009-12-18T17:22:00.000-08:00

Fictionpress.com, for those of you who are not aware, is a website that houses original fiction written by an author, or, in the likes of me, authoress.

I have been there for a year now, and I feel as though I have accomplished so much.

Number of Stories Completed: 8 archived, 13 total
Number of Novels Completed: 1 archived
Number of Stories In-Progress: 3
Number of Novels In-Progress: 1
Number of Words Archived on the Site: 782,172 (and counting)
Number of Reviews: 5,292 (and counting)
Number of Stories Planned: 5
Number of Novels Planned: 7
Number of One-Shots (A story that is only one chapter - a story unto itself) Planned: too many to count

I know it sounds somewhat arrogant, but I feel so accomplished. When I first began posting, I was slightly wary, unsure of how people would respond to my quirky way of writing - if they would accept it at all - and I was pleasantly surprised. The biggest lesson I have learned from Fictionpress is (however cheesy it may be) that if you believe in yourself and you work hard, you WILL be successful. When I first started out, I barely got two reviews a chapter, but because I updated frequently and responded to every review, my stories' reviews continued to grow and grow until even I was surprised. I'm still surprised!

And this is only my first year. Imagine what next year will bring!

I know for sure, however, that when people ask if I have a job, I tell them: "Yes. I am a writer." Because I am. So what if I'm not getting paid for it? I enjoy it, and in my definition of the word, I am successful.

Being Blonde

2009-12-17T15:44:00.000-08:00

Yes, blondes definitely have more fun. But I must confess that at certain times, it can get to be frustrating. Not being blonde, of course, but at the lack of blondes as strong heroines in our books, television shows, and movies. (I've left out music because blondes have always successfully dominated music.)

When I was a kid, my blonde heroes were as follows:

Kelly Bundy from Married... with Children: Okay, so it's the typical blonde stereotype all rolled into one, but she knew how to get what she wanted (most of the time) and went after it.

Elle Woods from Legally Blonde: This is probably the girl who I relate to the most. She's from SoCal, bubbly and friendly to anyone, and also incredibly smart. But because of how she spoke, how happy she always was, she was underestimated and not taken seriously. But in the end, she triumphs.

Cher from Clueless: The other girl I relate to the most. She too was from SoCal, sweet (if a little self-absorbed), who used the word 'like' as often as she tried to set unsuspecting teachers up. And she was smart too. Underestimated too. But she's firm in her beliefs, and ends up being with the guy who accepts her for everything she is.

Nat from Charlie's Angels: I love her. Like most blondes, she's bubbly and fun, but she's tough and can take care of herself.

But I don't see blondes portrayed that way anymore. Maybe I just haven't seen any yet. But let's look at television. The biggest show is NCIS and they don't have a main blonde character. Neither does House (Cameron totally doesn't count because she was brunette first) or Bones, my favorite shows.

And worst of all, I find it very hard finding a main blonde heroine in the literature I've been reading. Nearly every vampire book has a brunette heroine, the Harry Potter trio consists of raven hair, red hair, and bushy brown hair. Sophia Kinsella books all have different versions of mousy brown, to brunette (save for the Confessions series, but that's because she doesn't describe her main character.) But I digress. There are too many books to read to know for sure, but in my limited experience, finding a main blonde character who was the actual protagonist has been rare.

And don't get me started on how 'blonde' has become a word with a negative stigma attached.

Okay, so maybe I'm getting worked up over something silly, but it would be nice to see a strong blonde woman as the main character in a book or the star of a television show. But for now, I'll be content watching Clueless and being underestimated. At least being underestimated gives me the opportunity to prove everyone wrong. And I always seem to do just that.

Happiness et Moi

2009-12-16T15:39:00.000-08:00

There are so many different definitions of happiness that I believe it's kind of subjective. But I think it's a universal truth that happiness is something we humans long to find because we seem to want nothing more than to be happy. Now, I'm not going to lecture you on whether material goods actually make a person happy. Hell, every time I get a new book or the latest Johnny Depp movie on DVD I am completely content. But different things make me happy at different times. What I've come to realize is that happiness can be as simple as watching a sunset or as formulatic as being proposed to, and if you know yourself well enough, anyone can achieve happiness. Even though possessions and people might make you happy, you need to be the one to depend on if the situation calls for it.

I'm sure you're all wondering what makes me happy, so I made you a Top 10 List even though, I can assure you, many, many things make me happy.

Top 10 Things That Make Heather Happy (Oh, and by the way, this is in no particular order)

1) Knowing that Johnny Depp is alive and breathing and happy makes me happy. I know it's completely obvious on my behalf, but I don't care. Sometimes, the most obvious things make us happy.

2) Writing. I love to write: poetry, stories, novels, and blogs. I love it. I love it enough to get up at five o'clock in the morning to write. And I'm good at it. I'm not trying to be arrogant, but out of subjects such as math, science, history, or talents such as singing, dancing, playing an instrument, I can write. I feel like it's my job, but in the best sense of the word. One of my dreams would be, of course, to get paid for it, but if that never happens, I'm happy knowing that I can write a pretty good story, and on top of that, making my avid readers happy makes me happy. The best review I could get would be "I could totally relate to (insert heroine's name here)" or "I'm totally in love with (instert hero's name here)."

3) When me and my brother listen to prank calls online, especially with Frank Garrett. There are so many inside jokes we have, and it's something we can laugh about.

4) When my favorite song of the moment comes on the radio just after changing the station. I don't care if I have the CD; there's just something different - special - about a favorite song coming on the radio no matter how many times you listen to it.

5) The smell of a new book. There's really nothing more to say about that.

6) Jumping in the puddles as it's raining. The rain in general, since it's so rare here. And, of course, the smell after the rain.

7) Playing with my dogs out back, and watching them run up and down the yard. Plus, they leave the cutest footprints behind.

8) Being comfortable enough to be myself. I mean, I'm always myself, but in certain cases, I have to make myself more conservative than I have to be - like in family situations.

9) Pride & Prejudice. The 2005 version, of course. Especially the raining proposal number one scene, the proposal number two scene, and the very last scene. And I think I can assure you that the book makes me happy as well.

10) Memories with my Papa. So many good ones. Just thinking about some of the things he's done around Christmas makes me smile. Good times.

11) (Sorry, I had to add this in!) The fireworks at Disneyland. Unless you've experienced them for yourself, I really can't explain. It just makes me feel as though I'm where everyone wants to be, and I'm so lucky to be here. And that all my dreams really can come true, however impossible they seem.

So I guess what I'm saying is that everyone has the capability of making themselves happy. I'm not saying you have to be happy all the time; I agree that sometimes it feels good to feel sad. But when you want to be happy, you can.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have a date with the DVD player, Kiera Knightly and Matthew Macfayden...

My Funeral

2009-12-15T13:51:00.000-08:00

Okay, so this post might be slightly morbid, but I don't really care.

My family has experienced some death this past year, and for my twenty years, I've been to a handful of funerals. Yes, they were all touching, and they were all probably what the people who passed might have wanted.

But traditional funerals are definitely not my style.

Which is why I have composed a list (I love lists!) about what my funeral is going to have:

1)You're not allowed into the church unless you're wearing a costume. Sorry, but Grieving Man or Stepford Wife won't get in, but Batman and 1920's flapper sure as hell will! It would be like Halloween - Wouldn't it be funny if it was on Halloween? Maybe not for those living, but for me, it would be. I adore irony.

2) Sorry pastors/priests/reverands/rabbis and the like, but I don't want some person who may belong to a house of worship but has no clue who I am to run this here shindig. I'll probably have my brother run the thing. And then each guest will have to stand up and yes, go to the front of the room, and say something about me. It doesn't have to much, but just a memory would be cool. Nothing sad though.

3) The only hymn that will be sung is Disney's Candle on the Water.

4) Pictures of things I love will be everywhere. Which means lot and lots of Johnny Depp. And, if I'm lucky enough, a picture of me and Johnny Depp will be floating around there somewhere.

5) My mom (if she's still alive), if not, my husband (if I have one) will read a letter I leave behind to the audience. But if they start crying, they have to take a shot! Actually, if anyone starts crying, they have to take a shot of Captain Morgan (since he's a pirate). (I'm kidding... kind of.)

6) Before they trail over to the refreshment place, the audience will participate in the Time Warp. And that's a wrap!

--> Okay, so that was the PUBLIC funeral. My private funeral will go as follows:

1) My ashes will be scattered across the Pacific Ocean (by way of Newport Beach) with Jack Sparrow's theme song (YOU know which one I'm talking about) playing. No one should say anything.

I'm actually really looking forward to my funeral. How fun it's going to be! Too bad I can't actually be there at my own funeral. Or can't I?

Edward Cullen has nothin' on Mr. Darcy

2009-12-14T14:45:00.000-08:00

Okay, I admit, I haven't read Pride & Prejudice. Yet. (Barnes & Noble has sent it and it should be arriving shortly.) But I've seen the 2005 film adaption with Kiera Knightly and Matthew Macfadyen as Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy enough times to know that I know what I'm talking about.

And let's face it; without Pride & Prejudice there would be no Twilight.

Sorry twihards and baby-boom mothers. Instead of picking up a book about sexual repression and vegetarian vampires that sparkle (Oh yeah, totally masculine, and on top of that, the werewolves can't take a hint.), why not pick up classic literature that might actually teach you about healthy relationships between boys and girls?

I'll admit, I was like you. (Actually, I never liked the Twilight series; my friends and I were yelling at the stupidity of the characters the entire time, and when we realized we had to read through Jacob's point of view, I almost threw my book against my wall. Almost. Because it wasn't my wall's fault that Stephanie Meyer can't write. But I digress.) But that gets old. Seriously.

And Moms. Shame on you for letting your kid pine for relationships like these! A vampire who stares at his girlfriend while she's asleep, even going to the point of preventing her from leaving the house. "Oh, but he's protecting me!" Yeah, Bella is really someone I want my future daughter to look up to. Or my cousins, for that matter.

Mr. Darcy is a gentleman who knows how to take care of a woman without having to take off his shirt to do so. He gets protective but allows the woman to make up her own mind about a certain situation (I'm looking at you, Wickham!) Plus, he's ruggedly handsome, someone you look at more because there's something interesting about his face. And Elizabeth Bennet is relatable because she has faults and she has regrets, but they make her more endearing. And she actually owns up to them. Oh, and she doesn't need a man to make her happy.

So screw you Edward Cullen, and Jacob Back for that matter. Because I might not have read Pride & Prejudice. Yet. But I don't need to in order to figure out that Mr. Darcy is more of a man than you will ever be.

The Importance of Travel

2009-12-13T14:34:00.000-08:00

I was reading an article in the latest Cosmo about goals and how you should start writing down your goals because that reinforces just how important they are to you and will no doubt motivate you in order to attain them. Now, if you know anything about me, you know that I'm ambitious (sometimes too much so), so I have many goals.

But above else, I want to travel everywhere.

See, I already have it planned. If everything goes right, I'll be able to get all my credits in two years (I know; long time, right? Well, I'm getting an AA, plus I didn't know what I wanted to major in so I have a bunch of credits that I might not need. But I'm hoping to schedule an appointment with my counselor to see what they say.) - ending my time at junior college after a fall semester. Graduation isn't until May, so I would have ample time to travel. My first trip abroad, I want to explore Ireland (I swear I am going to have an actual drink in an authentic pub to pay homage to my roots!), Scotland, Wales, and England because I'm hoping to study over there. So not only would I be traveling and taking in the sights and chatting up guys with accents, but I'd be scouting some campuses. (My dream would be Oxford, but I'll take what I can get.)

In two years, hopefully I'll be able to save up some money to execute this goal of mine. I'll be 22 years of age (which means I can drink if I choose to , plus 22 is young enough to have fun, but mature enough for something, though I have yet to find out what that is...), and I'll have an AA, which means no stressing about school. I'm so looking forward to it!

And then if I do get to study abroad, I could go to other nearby countries on the weekends and stuff!

I'm so excited! I know I need patience, but I think two years is a good time to start planning.

I feel as though I have the world at my fingertips...

Do You Believe in Magic?

2009-12-11T17:16:00.000-08:00

Because I certainly do.

Today, my friend, her mother and I all went to see Disney's Princess and the Frog. As usual, when it comes to movies, Disney has a knack for making it easy to believe in magic. When you wish upon a star... A dream is a wish your heart makes... A lot of cynics might say that this is why kids shouldn't see such movies, that it gives the unrealistic expectations.

But I highly disagree. If anyone has ever seen a Disney movie, we all know that most princesses - or female leads - have to work hard to achieve what they want. And Tiana, Disney's newest princess, is not an exception. In fact, she works incredibly hard for her own dream, because in this particular Disney movie, the message is - "A wish on a star can only get you half the way. You have to continue to work hard for what you want."

And I truly believe that. I believe that if you have faith in yourself, the universe will help you along the way with what you want, but you can't expect nature to do everything. You have to step up and do it too.

I have wished on stars and I have picked up pennies (but only when they're face upwards). I have tried and managed to find some four-leaf clovers, but I have never had a rabbit's foot (though John Dillinger was notorious for carrying them around with him), nor do I think I ever will.

I'm not saying that I'm the luckiest person alive, but I'm grateful what I have, what I've experienced, and I look forward to what I will encounter because I trust the universe - and myself - can only have good things in store for me. Like Tiana, I'm not there yet, but I'm almost there, and that's what counts.

So wish on a star, dream a dream, sprinkle pixiedust, stardust, whatever you can find, on yourself, but more importantly believe in yourself. As Vanessa Carlton sings, "You have your dreams in the palm of your hand."

Why Modern Family is the Best New Show of the Season

2009-12-10T13:53:00.000-08:00

Okay, I'm going to be honest: The main reason I started watching Modern Family is because of Ed O'Neil. He was Al Bundy on Married with Children, and I grew up with that show adoring every minute of it.

After reading a couple of Entertainment Weekly interviews and articles, plus seeing the previews at the movie threatre in the Twenty, I was definitely excited for this show. Except I suddenly realized that Modern Family was on at the same time as Ghost Hunters, and my mother will not give that up for anything. Trust me, I've tried.

But that would not deter me! I have watched every single episode online and have loved every single one. What's really great about the show is that while I love Ed O'Neil, the show isn't solely about it him. It's an ensemble cast, and even though you might only go in caring about one group, you end up wondering what's going on with everyone else.

The family is dysfunctional, and I mean that in the absolute best way. You don't need me to tell you the characters; I'm sure you've all seen the previews for it. I love the relationship portrayed between Cam and Mitch (Jay's son) because it's not overly-cliched nor is it trying to prove a point regarding homosexuality and in your face about it. (I truly do think messages are more well-received when it's subtle rather than blunt, but that's just me.) Jay is almost nothing like Al Bundy, but that's not a bad thing. Ed O'Neil has the talent to portray such a wide variety of people, and yet make them ruggedly lovable. His relationship with his wife Gloria isn't flamboyant, nor is it stereotypical. You can tell that the two really do love each other. But it's Jay's relationship Gloria's son Manny that's really interesting to watch. Manny, quite mature for his age, and Jay are clashing in different ways, and yet they learn from each other. I also have a soft-spot for Phil, Claire's hunsband, who, himself, is just a kid at heart. But I also really love the dynamic between Claire (Jay's daughter) and her husband because though they're different in many different ways, they balance each other out.

It's the subtle context in the relationships between the family that really make the show. The writers are ridiculously talented, and the show is lucky to have them. That, along with the performances the actors give, is the reason to watch this show. It's witty and humorous, but there's also a lesson learned. But don't worry; the message isn't thoroughly preached. Most of the time.

I love the fact that the mockumentary form of filming is used, only because I cannot stand that typical canned laughter sitcoms have. If you want a successful sitcom, allow your audience to figure out what's funny and what's not without shoving down fake laughter down their throats.

That, and hiring Ed O'Neil of course.

Religion in music...?

2009-12-09T12:03:00.000-08:00

Okay, so I am currently listening to Carrie Underwood's new CD, Play On, and I really like it. I adore the country singer, but one song kind of made me think about things, specifically the lyrics or diction certain singers use. (Please don't even get me started on people who use 'ain't' when 'not' is the same exact syllable and actually grammatically correct, and the like.) Her song Songs Like This is catchy and empowering, basically calling an ex-boyfriend a total jerk, and "if it wasn't for boys like you, there'd be no songs like this." Or something like that.

But anyways, in her song, she sings "It ain't the Christian thing to do, they say." But is it necessary to say the word 'Christian'? Don't get me wrong; I'm not against expressing spiritual beliefs through songs, but I don't hear things like "It ain't the Jewish thing to do" or "It ain't the Muslim thing to do." Okay, so country music is predominantly Christian, but that doesn't mean that every single singer is a Christian, or even religious at all.

Wouldn't the word 'decent' suffice, and still have the same connotation? I mean, this way, it won't isolate some people of the audience. It's true; revenge isn't the Christian thing to do, but it's also not the decent thing to do also. And at least everybody in some form or another can relate to decency in some way.

I don't mean to pick on Carrie Underwood because I love her and her music, and I know a lot of other singers - country or not - do it too. But it's just an interesting thought that I had to share.

Public Enemies: The Wait is Over

2009-12-08T19:02:00.000-08:00

Who has two thumbs and a BluRay copy of Public Enemies? ... This guy.

Anyways, now that I got that off my chest, I must say how indescribably excited I am to finally own a copy of this movie because I have been, quite literally, anticipating this movie since I first heard about it. Now, everyone has their top three favorite actors: mine are Johnny Depp, Christian Bale, John Cusack, and Robert Downey, Jr. (Okay, I relent. I have four. And there are more.) When I heard that my top two favorites were going to be rivals in a movie about a charismatic gangster from the 30's, I swooned. Especially since I am in love with fedoras, especially on both Johnny Depp and Christian Bale.

Since the movie was based on history, I decided to read up on it. Now, I can tell you my heart belongs to John Dillinger (the real gangster, not Johnny Depp's gangster) and I probably am one of the few twenty-year olds who know almost everything about Dillinger. Of course, I read Public Enemies, the book the movie was based on by Bryan Burrough quite thoroughly before I saw it, so I knew what was going to happen. (*Spoiler Alert: Yeah, I was NOT happy watching Johnny Depp get killed.)

Now, I've been counting down the days until I finally got to see this movie, so when I heard that there was a midnight showing, I had to go. (And so did my brother, my mother, and my friend Jessica.) I was so revved up, especially since I read the book, knew my history; I couldn't wait to see what Michael Mann did with Dillinger's fascinating and inspiring story. Except, instead of enjoying the movie, I found myself picking at discrepencies between history and the movie. Don't get me wrong; I loved the movie, and my actors, and I've always adored Marion Cottillard, but... I'll admit it. I was disappointed. Not with the portrayals, of course, but with the story. John Dillinger had the perfect life to turn into a movie! There was no need to change it in any way!

Of course, that didn't stop me from seeing it three and a half more times in theatres. In fact, I really, really enjoyed the movie the second time because I knew what to expect. I'll say it again; I love the movie. But as a movie; not as a wholly accurate historical portrayal.

Johnny Depp is absolutely fabulous as Dillinger, but that is to be expected. No one can play likeable rogues like Johnny can. Christian Bale's portrayal of Melvin Purvis is actually really sweet. In reality, Purvis was a new kid on the block, nervous (hence the nickname Nervous Purvis), lacking the cool that Dillinger had so easily acquired. But in the movie, he's a Southern gentleman, and it's really hard to dislike him even though he's supposed to be Johnny Depp's rival. Marion is beautiful and talented, and she gives life to Billie Frechette, Dillinger's real long-term girlfriend. We feel her inner-conflict, wanting to stay with Dillinger because she loves him, but not wanting to be there if he gets killed. Go watch this movie for the performances at least! I promise you won't be disappointed. I'm not sure whether you should read the book first or not, but you have to read the book. It's definitely long, but I couldn't put it down. The 30's were a fascinating time.

Sometimes, I think I was born in the wrong time...

Anyways, I just wish bank robbers these days had as much suave and charisma, charm and rugged good looks as Dillinger had.

Rain. Yes, in California.

2009-12-07T12:56:00.000-08:00

I am sitting at my table, watching a rerun of Law and Order: CI, my hair wet, my jeans sticking to my legs, and my pajamas tumbling in the dryer just waiting for me to put them on, all nice and warm and inviting. But I am happy.

It is raining, my friends. And not just oh-California-rain-equals-sprinkling-for-five-seconds rain, but real STORM WATCH rain. I can hear the drops falling on the pavement over Vincent D'Onofrio's soft spoken voice. Actually, it's drowning him out. And that's okay because rarely do I ever hear a constant sound like this.

It's beautiful, like a symphony made from nature. And it's inspiring. I watch the trees in my backyard billow in the wind, and my dogs will not go outside for longer than five seconds (though Alpha won't go out at all) because they don't seem to like water all that much.

Southern California may not get a lot of rain, but when it does, people notice. We don't say, "It's raining. Again." We say, "It's raining for the first time this year!" And we go out in our knee-length boots and jump in the puddles, refusing to put our hoods on or to even bring an umbrella to school with us. Or at least I do.

I love the rain.

Winter is here. Finally.

Phobias and other nonsensical things

2009-12-06T17:17:00.000-08:00

I never actually thought I had a phobia of anything before until I got into a U-Haul with my mother behind the wheel.

Now, don't mistake me and think that I'm afraid of my mother's driving because I'm not. At times. But for whatever reason, I have a phobia of enormous moving vehicles. I get a chill every time I pass a motorhome, vowing that when I do have children and when we all go camping, my kids are going to be cramped in the back of an eco-friendly car and they are going to like it. We will camp in a tent just like everybody else did back in the day.

I can get in a U-Haul, but I have to be either reading or listening (I choose to do both) in order to distract myself from the fact that I am indeed in a U-Haul. Don't start giving me logic; I know that U-Hauls are safe (unless, of course, one engages in a sharp turn going over fifty - if they can even get the U-Haul at fifty). I can't explain why I'm afraid of big cars and the like. I just am.

At least phobias are kind of interesting, though I would probably never use mine as a pick-up line.

Unrequited, and it really doesn't feel so good

2009-12-04T19:00:00.000-08:00

I feel numb right now.

I just saw this incredibly important person after four years of not seeing him, and this person happened to be the first person I have ever loved. Real, true love. I should be ecstatic, excited, feeling incredibly happy, but I'm numb. And that's what love does to you. It happens to the best of us, even the coldest of hearts. Even to mine.

It's not as though I expected anything to change between us. We got right back into how we were four years ago as though we had never left. I got hugged twice, and we had a nice, long twenty minute conversation. It's not as though I expected him to suddenly be single and looking, spot me across the room, and realize that he was in love with me and always has been. But a part of me wished that it did happen. And it's always the small parts of you that are the loudest.

It's true what they say that you'll never get over your first love. It's also true that you don't have to be with a person for them to break your heart. But if my heart were to shatter, it could have only been done by him. And the thing is, he probably doesn't even know it.

He still looked as beautiful as ever, and if she's the reason that stunning smile is on his face, then I won't stand in the way. It's true, I want him to be happy above everything else. But that doesn't mean I don't want to be happy either. But his happiness means more than mine right now. I wanted the pieces of our puzzle to fall together in a different way. And who knows? Maybe they will down the road. Just not now. Though I don't think I'll ever fall out of love with him. And a part of me hopes that a part of him won't lose that special feeling he had (still has?) for me.

I'm glad I saw him; I don't regret it even though I'm numb. I wanted him to see me four years down the line so when he does look back and think of me, I'm an adult and not a sixteen year old with braces. I wanted to see how he was doing. I wanted to see him. And to have him see me.

Mission accomplished.

I just hope she realizes how lucky she is to have him. As Taylor Swift said, She's got everything that I have to live without.

But I'll survive it. Somehow, I always do.

How Johnny Depp Changed My Life

2009-12-03T16:31:00.000-08:00

Before I start this thought off, I should probably say that originally, I wasn't supposed to start this blog until January 1, 2010. I wanted to smoothly enter into this whole blogging world with more knowledge than I currently have, a notebook filled with all sorts of ideas, and everything else. But something got to me and I just had to write. I should be frustrated, maybe a little upset at my plans changing so abruptly, but that's the thing with inspiration. It's kind of like love; it just happens, especially when you're really not looking for it.

Anyways, the reason for this first blog is none other than Johnny Depp. And really, I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Not only is Johnny Depp People's Sexiest Man Alive, but now he is one of Entertainment Weekly's Entertainers of the Decade. He's always been my everything.

Go ahead and roll your eyes at my choice of diction, my adoration of a celebrity who will probably never know who I am. It's okay. I don't have to meet him, don't need him to know who I am to gain any sort of satisfaction or momentary bliss from it (though if such a thing were to happen, let me assure you it would not be momentary). I am simply content in knowing that he is alive because he has quite literally changed my life.

I still remember the first time I ever saw him - really saw him. I had just gotten home from visiting my father back in Michigan, and my mother took my brother and I to a local dollar theatre. Because it was my brother's turn to pick the movie, we ended up seeing Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl. I wasn't too happy about it, but my mother reminded me that Orlando Bloom was in it, hot off The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (though I had always preferred Pippin to Legolas). Upon first seeing Orlando Bloom, my interest wasn't exactly piqued, though he had an endearing quality about him, boyish charm that couldn't be denied. But I was harder to win over than just one look, one smile.

And yet, the moment Johnny Depp sauntered on screen in black eyeliner and two gold teeth, with that sway, I was hooked. He was unlike anything I had ever seen before, a masterpiece too beautiful to describe, but rough around the edges to entice even the most frozen of hearts. With that enthralling score by Klaus Badelt backing Johnny's pirate captain as he stood on the mast of his small, sinking vessel, my thirteen year old eyes realized this was most certainly love at first sight.

I ended up seeing that movie two more times in theatres, bought it the day it came out on DVD, and now own it on BluRay as well.

As a Sagittarius, my curiosity regarding all things piratical was piqued, and I researched everything I could about pirates. Yes, I read The Complete Idiot's Guide to Piracy. I looked stuff up on the internet. And I have been on the ride at Disneyland countless times now (though I haven't quite memorized the song. Yet.).

My muse had fully formed, and everything I had wanted to write about finally came to me, so I wrote. And wrote. And wrote. Belonging to Fanfiction.net (a place where people go to in order to read and write things belonging to any sort of fandom), Pirates stories flared up. A big trend was second-story fiction where YOU were the main character. I wrote some, I read some. And then, Fanfiction.net decided to enforce a rule that they had otherwise been lax about, and every story (save for a select few) were deleted from the site.

But no matter. I had to write. And I did. Not just with characters from the movie, but with my own characters. And low and behold, I actually finished them. While my imagination is quite rampant, my attention span was too impatient to actually let me finish a story. But not anymore.

And I didn't just write stories, but poetry. As a poet, I believe it is my job to make words as beautiful as songs but without the help of any intruments, and I must humbly say that I am quite content with how some came out. But when you have a muse that inspires you in such a way, you can't take all the credit. And I don't.

But it's not just me he inspires. I know there are people out there who feel the exact same way about him that I do. And maybe your muse isn't Johnny Depp, but rather someone else. And that's perfectly fine. But surely you can relate to what I'm saying and what I'm feeling.

Johnny Depp is more than just a pretty face. He is compassionate and caring, and has this ability to be cool without trying. He is talented and humble, gracious enough to sign an autograph or take a picture with a fan or two. And just like the wine he adores, he gets better and better with age. And he changed my life seven years ago, and will undoubtedly continue to do so as I get older.

But please know that my words really cannot express what I feel about him or how thankful I am for him. To quote from Sir Elton John: I hope you don't mind that I put down in words how wonderful life is while you're in the world.