Sunday, July 24, 2011

HARRYPOTTERHARRYPOTTER.

 ** Warning, contains minor spoilers.

I SAW THE HARRY POTTER MOVIE.

I know I'm pretty late, because it came out more than a week ago.
I saw it yesterday, and wow. It was so good.
The whole movie mainly consisted of fight scenes. I normally don't like that in a movie, because I enjoy seeing something with a complicated plotline.
But for this, it worked.

It's probably because it's the finale and everything, so it had to end with a bang.
And end with a bang it did.
I was on the edge of my seat the whole time.
But because I had to go to the 3D showing, (The tickets for the normal one was sold out) when I started crying I had to take off the glasses to wipe my eyes.
And it's hard trying to watch a movie, wipe tears away, and clean 3D glasses while simultaneously sobbing your eyes out.

I'm the type of person you don't want to sit next to in a theater.
When I watch a movie, I laugh in all the wrong places and I talk to myself.

There was this one thing that Voldemort said, and I thought it was hilarious.
It was when Harry went to the Forbidden Forest to go get killed.
And then He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named said, (If I remember correctly) "The boy who lived, come to die."
I thought that was hysterical.
I tried to contain it, but I ended up bursting out laughing.
I just thought that if I was Voldemort, the to-be conqueror of the world, I wouldn't pick something as ridiculous as that to say.
It sounds almost smug and petty.
It's as if he's saying, "I'm going to kill you. Again. Because you lived the first time I tried. So yeah."
I think I'm the only one who thinks that's funny.

And if there was an MVP of the movie, it would have been Neville.
He was just plain heroic.
But I think it was sad how didn't really have a big role in the movies. He was just "one of the classmates".
He was always one of my favorites, second only to Fred and George.

It was an amazing movie. The ending of it was good too.
THE DADDY HARRY GREW STUBBLE. <3

And that concludes my geeking session.
It all ends.

Did anyone get that?
Since it says "It All Ends" on the HP7 promotional posters?
LOL I'M SO FUNNY.

.... ok I'll leave now.

Saturday, July 23, 2011

an ode to the elderly.

I love old people.

No, it's not some weird sexual fetish that I developed. You may think that comment wasn't necessary, but when I told some people that I love the elderly, this is exactly how they interpreted it.
This is either a common reaction, or I need to get new friends.
But either way, I want to avoid a misunderstanding.

There are some people that hate old people.
They complain that they have wrinkles, they're slow, bitter, and they talk too much.
But I think that makes them cute.

I love seeing elderly couples that hold hands.
You might call it weird or gross, but I think it's amazing that love can last for over fifty years.
And my inner-romantic hopes that one day, that would be me.

And have you ever talked to one of them?
Because they've seen so many years go by, their wisdom is just staggering. Every time my grandpa opens his mouth, I feel like I've gained a generation's worth of knowledge.

Finally, their wrinkles.
I don't know why people get plastic surgery to prevent them. I think they're beautiful.
Whenever they smile, I can't help but smile back.
It's like a Contagious Elderly Spirit of Joy.
The C.E.S.J for short.

So thank you, senior citizens.
Thank you for putting up with teenagers and kicking us off your lawn.
Because we deserve it.
And in fifty years I'll hopefully join you all, and we can all talk about meaningful topics to share an endless amount of wisdom gained from our lengthy lives.

Keep being awesome. 

Friday, July 22, 2011

mia.

I haven't been on Blogger lately. Eleven days, if you want to get picky.
Mainly it's because I don't know what to talk about.

No, that's a lie.
I have lots of things I want to talk about. But I feel like none of them are good enough for a blog post.
So I started writing a diary again.

Yes, a diary.
I wrote one when I was in 3rd grade, but I mainly talked about how boys had cooties.
But now, it's actually kind of comforting to write in it.
It's nice to know that I'm the one who's going to read it, and nobody's going to judge me. 

And I think I just need to get over that fear.
I'm always afraid of being judged. Or labeled.
That's why I try to be as different as possible.
So people can't throw me in a bin of people they think are "jocks" or "scene".

I know this is extremely cliche.
So if you're rolling your eyes while reading this, sorry.
But that's just who I am.

I don't really know where I'm going with this.
But in a nutshell, I'm just letting everyone know that I'm back, and I will make an honest effort to post more often.
So... yeah.
I'm done rambling.

Monday, July 11, 2011

pondering.

I want to cut my hair. Short.
Because I need a change.
And because I've been a bit lacking in the confidence department lately.
I think that chopping it off will help me feel more... out there, since I won't be able to hide behind my curtains of hair anymore.

I'm probably going to get something like these.
Your opinions would be super awesome.


I know this is a huge decision, so I'm still thinking about it.
But I'm 80% sure that it's going to happen.

Thursday, July 7, 2011

... and that is why we wear helmets.

What people think is acceptable and what isn't never fails to confuse me.
People tell large people to go out and lose weight, but they still complain when they're on the treadmill next to them at the gym. In many states, first cousins are allowed to marry, but members of the same sex aren't.

And when I have my helmet on, I can't ride my bike halfway across town without being stared at.
I don't understand how the concept of bike helmets has become so ridiculously foreign that seeing a teenage girl wear one is like seeing a turtle outswim Micheal Phelps.

Why is this so weird?
I'm being safe.
So in case I fall and bash my head against the pavement, my helmet will protect my brains from spilling.
I apologize for that graphic image, but I felt it was necessary to prove my point.

And to all you adolescent boys who think riding your bike with no helmet is the coolest thing since sliced bread:
Have fun tripping over a rock, and ending up paralyzed for the rest of your life because you didn't want to wear a helmet. Because they're not "cool".

But I'm sure that paying thousands in medical bills for the rest of your life is cool too. Especially since it could have been all avoided with a cheap $10 biking helmet from Target.
Gosh, that's the coolest thing ever.

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On a side note, (I know this is long overdue) but if you could vote for me as a Top Kid Blogger, it would mean the world to me.
If I had my way, every time someone voted, I would send a bouncing leprechaun their way armed with rainbows and a pot of gold.
But since I don't hoard leprechauns in my basement, nor do I have spare pots of gold, you'll have to settle with this small paragraph of thanks.
So, thank you for putting up with me. And for supporting me.
And for giving me all these warm sentimental feelings.

To vote, click here or that handy big pink circle on the sidebar.

Friday, July 1, 2011

when sounding like a dying duck pays off.

Today I got a letter.
And it said that I got accepted into a wind ensemble on bassoon.
WHHAAAAAATTTTT.

That means that I didn't mess up my audition as much as I thought I did.
I completely bombed my E flat scale, but I guess it wasn't that big of a deal.
I'M SO HAPPY ABDLKJLBWEGLVKJSFKDSFJ.

If you're not sure what a bassoon is, it looks like this.
It's big. Very big. It's almost as tall as me.

I started playing it six months ago, and I sounded like a dying duck that was having gas problems.
It was awful. The first day of band, everyone stared at me because I sounded so incredibly bad. Like, everyone was playing this song, and then in the middle I managed to create this horrid monster of a note that clashed against everything.
It's as if I summoned a giant, ten-foot troll that stomped all over the garden of pansies that was music.
Did you like that analogy? Yeah, I liked it too. 

And when I was practicing at home, my parents would excuse themselves from the house because they couldn't stand the sound of it.
It was humiliating. 

But I kept going.
And it payed off because I don't sound like a duck anymore. Somewhat.
People still laugh at me, but I want to be good enough when I get back to school, that it blows their minds.
Then I'll have that self satisfaction of being better than them in the course of a few months.

I'm such a band geek. I love it.