The Perfect Aquarius

I would like to start a new blog titled 'The Perfect Aquarius' 

As you can assume, I'm an Aquarius and have many of the said qualities associated with Aquarians. So please, if you happen to stumble upon this blog or post, keep an eye out for 'The Perfect Aquarius'!

Jennifer Weiner

I recently read an article in the August 2013 Cosmopolitan magazine called, "Jennifer Weiner Vs. the World" with a picture of the well-known female author holding a sign saying, "I won't be ignored." 

While Weiner has been called a bully and her motives as being totally self-interested, I was inspired by her uproar. She is an advocate for female writers as female authors tend to get the short end of the stick when publicity and reviews are concerned. 

Self-interested or not, Jennifer Weiner's efforts are still bringing attention to the injustices occurring to female writers across America. And that can only be a good thing.

Bottom line: Jennifer Weiner is a friend to female writers and deserves a nice round of applause!

Your Friendly Stranger... From Across the Nation

The other day I saw this post while scrolling through my Instagram timeline. Here is where you need some background information: 

The first thing you should know about me  is that I am just about as close to the opposite of religious as it gets. For anyone who might hold this against me, please don't -- some of my closest friends are on the other end of the spectrum and we find a way to get along just great. 

The second thing that is important in understanding why this caught my eye if it wasn't because I was so touched spiritually, is that my friend, lets call her Marley for now, and I have an ongoing joke that she is actually the real Jesus. It started accidentally and in no means is meant in a rude or mean manner. Point being, if she is Jesus, then God is her father.

In seeing this post on Instagram, I immediately thought of Brenda and screenshotted the photo to show her and ask why her father never texted me cute things like that ever.

That's when the idea hit me.

Wouldn't it be nice to get cute texts from a mystery person? And I don't mean in a creepy "Someone is watching me" kind of way. Just in a, "Have a beautiful day!" kind of way.

I mean, how nice would it be if God did text you something to boost your confidence once in a while? Or if you woke up to a text from an angel telling you to have a wonderful day?

Lets remember this is an idea that became an experiment.

Objectives:

- put a smile on someone's face

- boost someone's confidence

- help someone start their day off positively

- prevent someone from hurtingthem self 

- soften someone's bad mood

- add a little confusion and wonder into people's lives

- be anonymous

Seeing as is was after 1am my time, I texted Marley that I had a plan and need her help but would tell her the next day. I woke up to a text something like, "WHAT'S THE PLANNNNN?"

Marley is ALWAYS up for an adventure. And so, te experiment was born!

New beginnings

So to the few people who see this, if anyone does, I've decided to take a new route on this blog.

The original approach I took was for a school project or experiment so-to-speak and quite frankly I found it a little exhausting. For me, writing starts by hand. I edit a little before I start typing and when I type it I begin the real editing process, the heavy duty editing. Trying to get a post up on the blog daily was incredibly time consuming. Not only was this entire process needed, but so was inspiration and new ideas... Every. Day. And let me tell you, you CANNOT force new ideas into your head. It's impossible, and if you do somehow do it, the ideas are usually crap.

Therefore, I have every intention of making my new route much less exhausting, much more interesting, and hopefully much more successful (or at least trying to!).

In the case you're wondering, I won't be blogging on a daily basis, maybe not even regularly. Instead I will be blogging when I feel inspired, about what I am inspired by, and wherever I feel inspired. 

So here's to an attempt at finding some degree of success and satisfaction with this blog!

Climate Counts!

Hey guys!

I found this awesome new FREE app for my iPhone that shows which brands/companies/corporations are going green or contributing to Global Warming!

The app is called Climate Counts and it is an extremely easy way to pick and choose where to shop and what to put your money towards. My favorite part of the app is that it gives me the ability to, literally at the push of a button, tell a company that their good or poor efforts have influenced my shopping habits in some manner. AND if you are so outraged, surprised, or downright proud of a certain company, at the push of another button you can RAISE YOUR VOICE and e-mail them! The best part? The message is pre-types and pertains to all situations! If that's not good enough, you can add more or edit it to fit your needs!

I am so happy with this app and the power it gives me within the market place that I want EVERYONE to experience this feeling and realize that CLIMATE COUNTS and that they too can RAISE THEIR VOICES!

Try out the app and start caring!

The Hunger Games

So this is going to be short and sweet for now, until I have more time to vent about this, but I have a real problem with the actors they chose to play in the upcoming movie The Hunger Games!

For starters, I think I would make an amazing Katniss Everdeen (not that you can see me or that they know me, but you'll have to take my word on it.

And second of all, the male leads are not NEARLY as hot and attractive as I imagined. God, if you want anything done right you really have to do it yourself, don't you?

Idea 3: Chosen; Stolen

I was taken away from home years ago by radicals who saw the underlying issues with our society much sooner than the rest did. The terrorists that hide within our community, undetectable, were their main concern. And yet they had discovered them while everyone else lived in ignorance. They took me when I was about 16 years old; they came in the night. They had been as invisible as the terrorists they hunted.

                I woke up in a strange room, some time after I felt a sharp pinch in my neck. I was extremely groggy, head spinning, eyes unable to focus. A shadowy figure sat across the room, seemingly waiting.

                Was he waiting for me?

                I tried to sit up but the moving room slammed my head back down towards the pillow.

                “Ughhhh,” I groaned.

                I heard footsteps coming towards me. I had no way to defend myself, I was disoriented, and if I did muster up the energy to fight free, where would I go? I opened my eyes and forced them to focus.

                “I’m sorry for the inconvenience,” the man says as he strolls in my direction. “It had to be a quick, quiet, and highly secretive capture. Your family could not have seen it or heard any screams.”

                I blinked. What the hell was this man talking about? The room had slowed a great deal, so I pushed myself upright.

                “Where am I?” I was braver than I thought. I sounded braver than I thought I would.

                “I can’t tell you that.”

                I huffed. Wow, I didn’t know I had such confidence, such assertion.

                “Then who are you? What is your name?”

                He paused. Looked around the room.

                “I really shouldn’t tell you that either.”

                I stared at him. I wasn’t as scared as I should have been, having been abducted and what not. I thought about my family. I wondered if they had noticed my absence yet; if they were asking questions.

                “You have to tell me something. You’ve kidnapped me, put my family in danger, and disrupted my life…What am I doing here?” I fought back the urge to sob and whimper. Don’t show weakness.

                Little did I know this would become an important phrase in my future.

                We held a staring contest, me sitting on the bed, him sitting on the chair he had brought over next to me. I took this time to notice how attractive this man was. He was young, yet he was definitely older than me, eighteen or nineteen years old. His tan skin, obviously further darkened by the strong sun and the lack of trees in the area. He had sharp features but they weren’t exactly chiseled. His nose was one that some may have considered big, but it seemed perfect for his face. Even against his brown skin, his eyes and hair were unexpectedly dark, black as midnight. His eyes were beautifully almond shaped and glossy, a starry night. And I couldn’t help but love his short, scruffy hair, textured carelessly. Creases lightly lined his face in various areas, such as outside his eyes and above and between his eye brows. He seemed worn down, worked.

                “Nasir. That’s my name…I shouldn’t have told you…but you deserve to know after they stole you!” He burst at the end.

                Nasir. Pretty common name. Even if I wanted, it’s not like I could give him to authorities. They would laugh if I went to them with nothing but one of the most common names in the country. Anyway, our protective forces weren’t exactly efficient…or functional…more like corrupt and incompetent.

                “Thank you.” I paused, took a breath. “Are they going to kill me? Or beat me for information I don’t have?” I could feel that my eyes had widened.

                “I…I’m not at the liberty to tell you any vital information. You aren’t to know anything…Yet at least.” His words sped up.

                Then he added, “I’m sorry, I know this isn’t fair.”

                “Why so secretive?” But I didn’t mean this question to be answered. I already knew all about my country. Nothing was straightforward. Nothing as it seemed.

                I could see sympathy in Nasir’s eyes. He must have felt terrible for my abduction, however, obviously not enough to do anything about it. Poor man. He had the guilt of an army squeezed into his lean, muscular body.

                Yes, I had noticed how very well Nasir took care of his body, even through the t-shirt and cargo pants. I hadn’t noticed until now that he wasn’t wearing the usual linen type pants most often worn in this hot climate.

                We talked a bit here and there, mostly small talk that was both awkward and restricted. We were both more comfortable sitting in silence. Nothing happened for hours. Occasionally Nasir would ask if I needed to use the bathroom and would escort me when I answered in the affirmative. Eventually food was brought to us by a tall, skinny man.

                For seven days this routine repeated itself. Periodically someone would come to talk with Nasir who went out into the hall, and I was left in the quiet of the room. Although it was just as quiet when Nasir was in the room as when he was in the hall, I still preferred him sitting guard than absent. Even if it was to make sure I didn’t make any hasty moves. He comforted me with his empathetic eyes. My boredom and longing for home and answers bothered him; I could see it. Most of all, he had become my protector, my guardian, granted I had not told him this, but I felt it. My little angel.

                On the eighth day, from what I could tell, which may not have been too accurate since there were no windows in this room, a man came to visit. This time, however, he was not here for Nasir. He was here to talk to me. While I had been waiting for days for answers, I had not been actually prepared for this visit. I felt my heart speed up.

                “Lana, what a beautiful name,” the older man said. His salt and pepper beard and hair was in wiry waves.

                “You don’t hear that kind of name here very often. Although, it fits your uniqueness.”

                Nodding slightly, out of awe, I mustered a, “Thank you,” and shut my mouth to listen to my answers. I would figure out how he knew my name later.

                “Since the oracle spoke of the birth of a special child who was to be trained in many aspects to help stop terror from debilitating our people, we have searched for this child. It has been years and years since the search began. We had much difficulty and few breakthroughs in the search. Having to be secretive only made it more difficult. We could not have our enemies know we were on their trail. Although they had been completely unknown to a single soul in our nation, we found them, figured out their plans.

                “And, yet, until we found this child we were screwed. Stupidly, we only looked for boy children. Sexist and discriminatory, I know. You, Lana, must understand why, though, growing up in this country. Women are given very little and punished more harshly. Well it wasn’t until we discovered Nasir, here, in our search and recruited him despite his not being the special child that we got the idea to search girl children as well. It was Nasir’s suggestion completely!”

                The man sounded proud of Nasir, proud that Nasir was a part of his group. Nasir looked pained, guilty still, even more so than before.

                And then, miss Lana, we found that special child that we had been scourging the land for years for. We watched her grow until we could not wait any longer, always in secret…Here we are, miss Lana, here staring at the special child.” He smiled, waiting for it all to sink in.

                But it wouldn’t. If he was implying for one second that I was this special girl, then he had lost his marbles during his long years looking and longing. I once heard that the hero can’t know that she or he is the hero at first r then it wouldn’t be a fairytale. But this was real life, and more often than not, it ended without a happy fairytale ending, and I would not let them plant false hope in my mind.

                With a small chuckle and a kind smile, I tried to explain to the man that he had the wrong “child.”

                “I’m afraid I’m not the one you seek, sir. I’m just a daughter, who like most girls, is not being put into school since apparently we are not worthy. I just want to return home and continue to teach myself to read and cook and clean, no matter how miserable house work may be.”

                I could feel Nasir’s mesmerizing eyes, unmoving, on my face. The man who had come to talk to me, whose name I still did not know, stood thoughtfully. He must have been in his late fifties, early sixties by the looks of him and was still very mobile. His face, too, was worn and had line sketches engraved across it; his were deeper and more numerous than Nasir’s. I could feel another staring contest beginning.

                But it never came. Instead, the man tempted me, convinced me.

                “The special child shall be taught to read and much more. There is knowledge that is both intellectual and physical to be taught. She or he shall be trained. For years.”

                He saw my face flicker with emotion. I had taken the bait. He knew it, that clever man.

                “And you are the one and only (he placed a significant amount of emphasis on “only”) special child, you must stay and take the knowledge we offer. Not only do we and our country need you, but so does the world.”

                I wanted this knowledge, this power, badly. I could stay here and become the most educated girl in my country and forget about the normal standards and requirements of respect for women, I could help the world. And I could shame my family, never see them for Allah knows how long, stay caged up, risk my life.

                “My parents, my brothers and sister. I can’t put them in danger, they’ll ask questions. They must be worried about me.”

                But my mind was already made up. I was staying because that was the only way to never have regrets and “what if’s” haunting me, it was what I really wanted.

                “They have been talked to. They have a basic understanding of the situation and are in a safe house, with surveillance,” the man spoke to soothe me, but it didn’t work. At the snap of his fingers, the door to the room opened and a T.V. was wheeled in. I could see my parents; they looked so tiny on the screen. The room they stood in was unfamiliar; they must actually be in a surveyed safe home. The man seemed more trustworthy already.

Let me know what you think! PurpleRain, SJAE!

Stephenie Meyer: The Host movie cast

Dear Stephenie Meyer,

I don’t know if it is the fact that we have the same names, that our fathers have the same names, or I am just completely intrigued with you’re writing, but I feel a deep connection with most of the characters you create.

However, I feel a much, much stronger connection and pull to the characters in your novel, The Host. I relate to Melanie and Wanderer to no end and consequently do not want the book to ever end. I have become so absorbed in the book that I am trying to drag out the reading process so that I won’t be as upset when it’s finished. And yet I still find my fingers reaching for the book as I am trying to limit my reading. I would give almost anything to be Wanderer or Melanie instead of myself any day for the pure thrill, love, family, and struggle that lies in the pages of this novel.

Additionally, I am just about willing to do anything for you to be able to be part of the creation of this film. What I want more than anything I’ve ever wanted before is to be able to act the part of Wanderer and Melanie. I am good at being quite, good at looking scared, at yelling, at reading, at telling stories, at following directions. I wish that someone would meet with me and hear me out and give me a chance – I’m willing to do the role for free. All I want is the experience, the chance to be a part of something this big. I really just don’t want the story to end for me. I feel as if I’m a part of the book now and I don’t want to lose that. Being in the film would mean that I would never lose myself from the novel, that I would forever be connected. Even playing a small role which I do not want would be better than watching it be made and having no part at all in the process.

When I saw that person to play Melanie/Wanderer had been chosen already, before I got my chance to say anything, my heart instantly dropped and my stomach caved in. I already feel an emptiness that I will not get the chance to fill, all my hope ripped away. Even if I had not been chosen to play the part, I would have been happy knowing I tried and they/you chose someone else. However, now I do not even get the chance, for the actress has already been chosen.

I would still do anything you would like to get that role. And on top of doing anything you would like, I would also play the role for no money at all, completely free. Movies need fresh faces sometimes, new actresses, and I think I can do an outstanding job. Like I said, I’m good at following directions. At the very least I would love to meet with you or the people running the production and filming of The Host.

I’m very small. I have long, straight brown hair. I have hazel eyes. Like Melanie, I tan easily. I am very good at storytelling and speaking. And I am beyond resilient and strong. I truly am perfect for the role, more perfect than the girl chosen for the part. They clearly did not have Melanie in mind when they chose her, which makes it tougher for me to accept the fact that the cast has already been chosen. This girl is not anything like how you described Melanie. I swear I would be perfect for the role, although that kind of makes it seem like I wouldn’t. But would it really hurt to meet with me and see if I have the ability to play the character you dreamed up?

Anyhow, you are an extremely talented writer, although you already know that. Because of this, you have created a character that has changed my view on life and reminds me of myself in extraordinary ways. Please give me a chance to play the part in the most amazing way it can possibly be played. Give me a chance to keep this bond, this dream of mine alive.

Stephanie

Girls Coach Girls Run (GCGR)

Hey everybody!

Last year, me and my best friend Amanda participated in a program called Girls Coach Girls Run, also known as GCGR. It is a great 18 week program for younger girls to learn and create bonds with older girls.

What happens is some juniors in high school who participate in this program meet every Thursday night for two hours with the program directors. With the participants, the directors go through various topics that girls and women alike face everyday, which includes dieting, exercise, body image, self-esteem, friends, boys, and assertiveness. Healthy ways to go about each topic are discussed and brought to the table as well as various solutions to sticky situations.

Next, the juniors get into groups and teach the same program, though slightly modified for the younger girls, to eighth grade girls. This occurs for another six weeks, for two hours every Thursday. When this part of the program is completed, the girls have made bonds and friendships and learned a tn about themselves!

The girls split into a few groups which include about four juniors and fur or so eighth graders. Each group is assigned an elementary school in which they meet twice a week for two hours twice a week right after school. During this six weeks, the juniors and the eighth graders work together to teach the, more kid friendly, program to a larger group of fourth graders. Each day, after a piece of the program is taught to the younger girls, all the girls go for a run. (This usually took place outside unless the weather forbid this.)

At the end of the 18 week program that gives participants 50 hours of community service, a 5k race and picnic is held and awards are given. This is a great program that teaches young girls about self-image, exercise, health, and forms many bonds and friendships.

This is all of us girls stretching before the big 5k! The circle around the older girls in the middle, which is made up of all the eighth graders and fourth graders, is too large to fit into the picture. And, there are tons of families all around watching and taking pictures! The pictures don't do a good job capturing the excitement, the love, and the music!

These are all the juniors that participated! I'm in there somewhere! The two directors are kneeling in the front of the group. Love and miss these girls!
 

GIRLS COACH GIRLS RUN <3

purple rain



<a href="http://www.hypersmash.com/hostgator/" id="QO674">HostGator promo codes</a>

chocolate covered strawberries

I just found this picture in my picture folder on my computer and thought I'd share. It just looks sooo delicious and I'm so jealous of myself right now for having eaten them all already (but hey, god only know when I took this picture..so maybe I shouldn't be jealous that I don't have these exact strawberries right now)! But yumm yumm yummmm!

SMILE!

A few summers ago, my friend and I made our own little person! This particular friend of mine has this beautiful dark redish auburn hair (some call her a "ginger" however she is smack in the middle of being a brunette and a redhead) which everyone loves. My hair dresser was fascinated! So, on my knee we drew a smiley face with 100 proof sunscreen, which is extremely thick. Then using her beautiful curls, we gave our smiley hair - and voilà! - we have our own mini person!


Below is the succession the original picture took before it became the sentimental and beautiful picture that it now is, the final copy. Hope you find it as entertaining as we did!

The Placement

Now She's Real!

Friendship

Isn't she beautiful? This is a post for my friend Carley, who I love a ton! *So we can always remember the good times that we've created together (even if it means getting flipped the bird because you NEEDED to show me how good your spitting aim was from the ski lift chair...on some girls head right in her part. Thanks again for that!), friends for life.

As always, Purple Rain

Books

I live in my dreams and
die in my waking moments.
I thrive in the tragedies but
suffer my everyday routine.
For life is excruciatingly boring
with no pain, no terrifying
adventure to break up the
normalcy. I would gladly live in
a book - and not just a fairytale book,
but any single one! - since it
would supply me with my needed
dosage of tears and thrill and
fear and anger and happiness!
Yes! That is what I need, a
whole array of emotions laid
out sporadically like splashes of
rainbows to ensure that
my emotional needs are
always met. But here!

Here in this world of normalcy!
Nothing extravagantly ludicrous
occurs. I am stuck for
countless days in a slow
routine of nothingness. I can feel
myself fading away, my life disappearing.
How can one live without liveliness?
But suck me into the pages of a
rich novel! I would run through the words,
from cover to cover, praying for the end to
never come. And yet I still pray for the
same everyday. Dragging out
each damn syllable for everything
it's worth. I yearn for the passages
of endless poetry, to live in
the lives of people whom I have
never met, yet feel as though I know -
I am that person, that girl running
down the street. That man standing
there is my friend, friend from childhood.

So yes, I live in my dreams. I
feel more alive in my sleep
than when I'm up and living.
What a backwards web I have spun!
I want to be in a surreal painting,
where strange things are not so
strange and normal things are not
so common. Should a blue sun seem
so unorthodox? Or purple rain be gasped
at? And why is it so weird to think a green
moon might be pretty? I would
rather like a colorful world
with secret missions and spies
dragging me around to hidden
passageways. And torture! I
can do with some of that! If it makes
the tears and the beauty all
the better, then so be it! Bring
the pain and the suffering, for
I want to experience it all and have
richer experiences because of it.
I want to starve and bleed and
cry myself to sleep. I want to run and
fall, only to get back up. I want to
endure all the pain which I can, and then
some more. And finally, I want to find
love of my life, the perfect man.
And I want to enjoy it all,
every single feeling I can possibly feel.
I want to triumph thorugh
the impossible and find the answers

of the Earth.

Implant me in a book, and watch me fade away.
Erase me from this existence which means
much less to me. I need to fly far from
here and find the things I yearn for.
See, if you cannot give me the life I need
in order to live a real life, than I shall find that
book I speak of and read indefinitely. I
will let my life waste away if I can stay reading,
since my mind will drift and wander far
and out there is far enough. Leave me in an empty
room and I will live in that book and live
on and on forever in that clever hook.

Celebrity

Who is your favorite celebrity?

Comment here which celebrity is your idol, whose style you love the most, or who is your down right favorite!

Which ever celebrity has the most comments about him or her, I'll research and dig up as much dirt and facts as possible along with style tips so you can be just like that person or talent tricks so you can master the same career that that person may have.

I may do a sample on a celebrity I find interesting.

Hope you comment!

purple rain :)

sweet green flowers

The Nymph Echo

This is the painting that the poem below is inspired by. It is beautiful and exquisite, yet it has hints of mysteriousness to it. It's an amazing painting!

"MoMA | The Collection | Provenance Research Project | Max Ernst. The Nymph Echo. Paris 1936." MoMA | The Museum of Modern Art. 2010. Web. 20 Dec. 2011. <http://www.moma.org/collection/provenance/provenance_object.php?object_id=79316>.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This is a poem inspired by the painting:

 “The Nymph Echo” by Max Ernst

Oh wanderer, have you stumbled

upon more ancient green? Whose

hands grip and grab at the

barren Earth! What life it does

take, the goddess dancing in the

middle! Was it placed there? And

if so, with a motive? Or did

random, sporadic chance bless us

with such mesmerizing fertility?

And as the yellow ball sinks

down below, and dark blue

ceilings crush down from above,

what more green could one

ask for? More hands reach out

from the giant leaves. Come nymphs!

They beckon you to come and

spread your magic all around!

More is needed, much, much, more.

But here, all I see is just an echo

for only few flowers live to talk of

nymphs. And their colors seem faded

about their dancing dresses. The

fingers that I see are very strange

and mysterious to me. Are they claws?

Ripping at all the remaining life?

Or are they dainty, long and elegant?

There to stimulate growth and prosperity?

More mysterious is what those

hands belong to, there hidden

away in the darkness behind

the vines. The yellow eye on the

stem, the orange face, innocents of

the worlds. There a cradle rocks

blue buds to sleep, how sweet!

More youth than one would have

thought, more birth, more life.

Is that a green lion climbing

way back there, near the hidden

lady? barer than the Earth?

And a lizard basking in the shady

undergrowth hanging near the

snakey body of the bird

nosed stem of the featherless fowl. Yet

so pronounced against the sky, reaching

from the darkness. Oh nymph, give it life!

As always, this post on this blog is by me. Every single blog is by myself, the creator of this blog. I hope you like it :)

Role-Model Worthy Stars List #1

1. Katherine  Heigl = classy, beautiful, funny, and sincere. What more could we ask for?

2. Halle Berry...I have two words for you, Cat Woman

3. Selena Gomez <-- She's HILARIOUS

4. David Beckham

5. And his wife, Posh Spice

6. Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt --> for being so generous to countries in need

7. Leonardo DeCaprio --> and not just for being so handsome ;)

8.Hugh Jackman

9. Alyssa Milano = an amazing, and often over looked, activist

10. Brian Dennehy

11. Meg Cabot, Stephenie Meyers, and not to mention J. K. Rowling: for writing life
                                                                                                  changing novels!

12. Jennifer Aniston - Thank you for staying strong and showing us that we can too

13. Rihanna --> Girl, you might be crazy, but you show us that it's OK to be who we want

                         to be. You definitely aren't afraid to show it!

14. Lady Gaga, Nicki Minaj, and Katy Perry --> All strong, proud, confident women. They
                                                                   are beautiful in their own, different ways,
                                                                   and we love it! Why can't there be more of
                                                                   you?

Summer Flashback

Ah, I miss the warm sun and super blue water. Sand in between my toes, spraying sunscreen, soft wind. Oh summer days!

SURPRISE!

My two dogs and my sisters' two dogs loved the gardening box on wheels we got our mom, that we couldn't stop them from jumping in! We decided to help them play a little peek-a-boo :)