The Starving Artist

So I had the wonderful idea that I would get in touch with my artsy side.
I went out and bought a canvas and some paints, practiced drawing my idea and then turned on itunes and locked myself in my room for two and a half hours.
Given my family's artistic abilities, I didn't think it would be too hard.

This was the end result.
It tells you two things:
1. I would starve if I had chosen painting as my career
2. I must be adopted.

"The latest Popstar Hearthrob Thing"

So.... I was dragged to the Justin Bieber Never Say Never movie last weekened.  Yes, yes. I know. It's a miracle I'm still alive. 
It was the most boring hour and fourty five minutes of my life.
Not to mention disturbing.
All these fan girls and Moms who are in love with him: "We will be married."
The slow motion, 3D, hair flip that was constantly repeated nearly made me throw up.
The highlight of the movie was a one second glimpse of Chris Pine who, for reasons that cannot be determined, was at Justin's concert.

But Justin seems like a pretty nice kid. I just don't like his music, I'm not a beliber, do not have a "Beiber Fever" and just really don't care.

THIS video however, was better than the movie.   I've watched it twice which is more than I can say for the original.

A Plethora of Paranoia

There are little things in life that bother me.

Lowe's commercials,  shopping and grammar error filled articles are not some of them.

But this, this goes too far.

You do not mess with my 80's music.

Glee, [help us all,] that show scares me.
HAVE YOU SEEN WHAT THEY DID TO BILLY IDOL!!?!  

                                           

Their version of Dancing With Myself is positively terrifying. I made it only 25 seconds listening to it and that was nearly killing me.

I dare you to see how long you can go for without your eyeballs bleeding.

*Gag*


Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go listen to the real Billy Idol. I need to restore my hearing.

Delaying The Inevitable

I get to speak in front of people tonight.
For those of you who know me, you'll realize just what a big deal that is.

I'm talking glossophobia 100%   I fit all the symptoms. Yay. I have a phobia to go along with all my weirdness.

So what do I do when I'm nervous about talking in front of people? Do I go over and write and rewrite my talk? Do I memorize everything I'm going to say?

Nope.

I procrastinate.

And it probably didn't help that I was extremely bored. So while I am counting down the awful hours, I have some YouTube videos that I've been watching to take my mind off the deplorable event this evening.


We are all aware of my Sherlock Holmes obsession. The one that beats my Star Trek obsession into the ground.  So these videos should not be surprising to you in anyway. No, this is not Wassup Holmes again, even though that has to be my favorite YouTube video of all time, these are just random little videos.. that well, my Holmesaholic self finds hilarious.

And I can also blame my amusement on my nerves and the fact that when I found these, I had eaten five chocolate chip cookies.

Oh, and my only explanation for Watson is that my Watson is much better. (Go Jude Law!) so just excuse the teddy bear looking man.  Lemon Tree

Since you are probably all bored/appalled after that one, I won't make you watch my other favorite one unless you really want to. And if you do, it's right here.

And for those of you who have sat through all of this, a more amusing one just for you. Sherlock Holmes and The Safety Dance. You know that as much as your not-nerdy self is rebelling, you really want to watch.
Go ahead. It's right here. And all I have to say for this. 0.5 EPIC WIN! 0.39 LOL!

I think I need to renew these episodes from the library, they look awesome.

I think I need help.

Help.

Shake That Ting

I don't really like dancing.
I like Napoleon Dynamite, Evolution of Dance dancing.

And if it's not freestyle, it's too restrictive. Dance in this square.. hold his hand here... blah, blah, blah.
I JUST WANNA DANCE NOT DO BRAIN SURGERY!

So dancing... not really my thing.

I have a dance this evening- Wait, scratch that, I have a rhythmic ceremonial ritual.  And if I don't go, Holmes is going to go get Darth Vader from Vulcan to melt my brain.

I think I better go.
I like my brain.

And now we enter into the confessional stage of things...

I like Hugh Grant movies.
What does this have to do with dancing?
Well...

Everything. Absolutely Everything.

Have any of you seen this movie? I love this movie. It's probably my favorite of all the Hugh Grant movies I've watched.

And Hugh Grant is adorable in it.  And he can sing! Which makes it even better.


Watch this music video from the movie and realize that I will be dancing the exact same way this evening.

Oh, and please note the date of the music video.  :D
Music Video

Writing Woes

                              (Lost the link thing. Deviantart.)


Help me.

In this particular picture you see above, I am feeling like Watson. Well... I always feel like a Watson, but that's just because it's a nickname.  Do  you see the resentful glare? The folded arms, the look of simmering anger? Well take a good look, folks 'cause that mood is changing and now I am going to play Holmes AND START SMACKING HEADS WITH THE RIDING CROP!

Got it?

Do you want to know how we got to this point? Of course you do, I'm the one holding the whip so you get to hear it if you want to or not.

I did school, I had a marvelous day, ate about... four cookies (and counting) and understood my Latin lessons. I was good! I was a diligent student!!  I wanted time to write this evening, I have formulating plans of brilliance that I will lose unless I get it written down!!!
So I wrote one tiny, little story. I was listening to classical music and all calm, feeling creative...

And then my sister and her little friend came in, turned on obnoxious music, started playing some brainwashing child's game and were screaming:
1. At the dog
2. At each other
3. At me

GONE IS THE PEACEFUL, HAPPY CLASSICAL MUSIC (Welcome, Fatboy Slim) and hello to writer's dilemma.

I just want to write a story!! Is that so difficult to ask!!?!?!

..... *Evil light bulb*

"Oh, children!!!- *big fake smile*- "Would you like some candy? Some chocolate? Some SUCKERS!??

"Go fetch, little ones! Go get it! It's out there! No, over there.. by the mud pit, no, no. You've seen The Princess Bride haven't you? It looks like the ones they have in the fire swamp? Yes, that one."

Mourn with those who mourn....

And comfort those who stand in need of comfort.  

It's UEA. But I went A-WOL on the UEA and could be considered MIA by the PTA.  But I had a meeting with the... GEEK(a)  (Grandparents Entertaining Euphoric Kids) and that was a bit more pressing. 
...Tell me, does "Geek-a" not remind you of a song? Or am I the only one who hears Rick James calling?

"She's a super geek, super geek! She's super geeky, yow! Super geek, super geek..."

No?

Alright, fine.  Back to the important things. 

I have more depressing news for you.   My Watson, my dear, precious Watson.....

 

                              Looks like a bird who has lost a few feathers.

Which is sort of like this guy....  *Snicker*   I think Cockatoo, what do you think?

Ok, ok! No more! I'll be nice!

...Just don't get me started on Holmes....

I'll let you use your imagination on this one.

Writer's block

You all remember this right? How awful, depressingly sad that was? Well... this is worse.

Welcome to writer's block.

(Source)

One, that has to be the most attractive picture of Woody the cowboy I have ever seen, but it really has nothing to do with my post, I just wanted to share it with you.

Two.... things are gonna get ugly.

I'm depressed. Really, down in the dumps sad. I've been writing for days, I have two books currently in progress and a fanfic that's struggling to survive.  But I'm just worried. I don't want to spend the rest of my life writing someone else's characters and novels that never make it past page twenty.  How many closet writers out there actually make it into publishing? Not alot (Emilie, that grammar error was for you. It's killing me not to correct it.)

But I want to write; I like to write, I'm just worried it will never get anywhere. I want to write something impacting, something C.S. Lewis, Doyle, Austin, Stowe, world changing.  I don't want the lasting books of the century to be Twilight and Harry Potter.  (Sorry to all you twihard, mud throwing potter fans)   But it's hard; I'm not sure how to get going, or even where my ideas are going.  Where is my Sherlock, my Watson?Where is my Spock, my Kirk? My Darcy and Elizabeth? My Woody and Buzz?   (Ah, see that picture did come to have a point)

So there's my piece. I will now step off my soap box and go stare aimlessly out the window pondering with my hands behind my back and wondering what would happen if I got one of those little bubble pipe things to mess with while I brain storm.

........ I'm not sure I want to explain that. All I will say is that I have an odd obsession with putting things in my mouth when I think. Paper, hair and pencils. Also Popsicle sticks. So a pipe (minus the brain cell killing tobacco) seems.... logical.

Utterly. Disappointed.

Warning: Some images may be permanently scarring and give the viewer horrendous nightmares. Continue reading at your own risk.

Please enter the pit of despair. It's not a happy place there. How do I know this? I've been there. Let me tell you how I came to be here.  Please pull up a chair and ignore the constant sobbing in the background.




I was happily Internet browsing and looking for the location of one of my favorite actor's home. Stalkerish and girlish, immature and pointless I know, but heck, I'm going to be in the same city so I might as well look him up.

I was looking around, all happy, la, de, dah and then I saw it.

The picture.

The high school photo.

Shrieking and looking away quickly, I couldn't believe what I had just seen. Almost tenatively, my eyes darted back to double check.

Yep.

Zachary Quinto.

The teenager.

I was about to post the photo here. (See here. Right here. Were you're reading) but as I opened the picture, I just couldn't bring myself to do it.

How could one so attractive now be so.... *looking for nice word* 
not attractive then?

So instead of those scary images we will now look at some nicer photos. Feel free to 'oh' and 'ah' as we scroll down.

                                                                         Ooooh!!

Ahhhh!

EWWW!!!! AAUUUUGH!!!

I'm sorry viewers. I just had to do it. It was for your own good and for the sake of my conscience. I can now sleep better knowing someone else shares my pain.  Now to console your wounded eyeballs. A better photo:

Oh, yeah!! Kirk and Spock, modern times. It's pretty rockin.

Why me?

Why has every day this week felt like this?

Alert Medical

I watched the season premier of White collar.
You remember what I said about Fan girling?
It can be hazardous to your health.

I was over stimulated by Neal's charming smile and Mozzie's all around awesomeness.
... And spent the rest of the night wondering why we have such things as gag reflexes.

So now I'm sick.
And have spent the day in my pajamas staring at my computer screen.
This is why we have friends to help you feel better.
Friends who send you pictures of sweet action stuff that nearly sends you into another over stimulated state.
Stuff like this.....

Look at that!!! It is so cute!! He looks adorable!!  Aw....  it's just freaking awesome!

And those are some pretty sweet boots.

I need some.

Now, as I have sent myself into another over stimulated state of mind.... Lieutenant, you have the Conn. Alert medical.