Sunday, March 25, 2012

Talent? Show

   Talent shows are a super fun time, and what's even better than those is this event my school sometimes has called Open Mic Night, where you don't sign up or audition, you just show up and go crazy. It's fun, and whenever it comes around a couple things come across my mind-- how supportive audiences can be, and how I have no talents.
   Now, I know how this post sounds so far. You're expecting me to go into an anecdote about how one time I tried to do a performance, sucked, but the audience cheered me on anyway. Well, if that's really what you're looking forward to in this post, I am afraid you will be disappointed. But honestly, that would have been a boring and cliche post so I don't see why you would look forward to it.
   No, indeed I did not perform. That is because I have no talent that is perform-able. During such talent shows, the thought always occurs to me of the people with talents who can't be shown. Like a painter can't go up and paint in front of an audience, just as I can't go in front of one and write a story. But I suppose such talents are often associated with the introverted such who would prefer not to be in front of a large group of people anyway (not to stereotype introverts, nor artists/writers). Plus for them there are art galleries, and...publishers.
   I, though introverted, do have a random, erm, I guess we'll call it talent, that I have wanted to perform. It is actually a type of theatre competition called prose, though I do not compete and would therefore only want to do it as a talent. It is where you read aloud a piece of prose, almost in the way of a monologue, except not because monologues are terrifying (yes, I have dabbled in the theatre industry-- that's another story/post, though). It seems fun, though I feel that audiences would be very confused-- even at Open Mic Night, where anything goes-- if I went up on stage and started reading out the Allie's baseball mitt passage from Catcher in the Rye in a Holden-esque tone (I considered doing the competition for all of a day, so yes, I do have a passage picked out).
   So, yes, sometimes I secretly wish to be talented in the ways of performance, but me being my introvert self, I know that it is best that I just remain one of the cheering audience members.
   And yes, I do realize this post was excessively random and fairly long. As a reward for your patience and tolerance at my rambling, I give you this photo:
That's right, it's an inchworm. And it's going for the camera lens.

As awesome as the last pic was, here's a clearer shot of the little guy.

And his inching abilities. You're glad you read the whole post now, aren't  you? That's right, awesome inchworm pics for worthy readers.

Friday, March 23, 2012

A Girl Named Bitterly

   Over spring break, besides becoming ill, I wrote a short story. Well, I had started it a long while ago, and I finished it over break. Originally it had been one of those "punch the keys" (Finding Forrester reference-- I just watched that movie again, and it's awesome) moments where you just write and you have no idea where it's going. Well, I figured out what to do with it during the break, and wrote it and finished it. It is lovely, and inspired by several things in my life currently.
   The story is about a girl named Bitterly Living who is an aspiring fashion designer living in a drab town. She has her friend Peter, who helps her venture to the fashionable city of Paris, where she can find her success. So, I give to you a passage from the story. Enjoy.

   The evening was quiet and hardly anyone was about the streets. Bitterly knew where she was going, and tried to suppress her hopes; she preferred a nonchalance in life. Certain streets she took were so quiet she could hear her steps, and even the slightest murmurs of the town were easily heard by anyone around. She enjoyed hearing the murmur, as well as her steps being their own part of something truly insignificant.
She rounded a corner and reached just the stoop she was looking for. Splayed across the second step of the stoop was Peter, his head and shoulders slouched against the side and his legs stretched out in front of him. His hat covered his eyes and he was at least pretending to sleep.
“And shouldn’t you be at school?” Bitterly greeted.
 Peter lifted his head and gave a full hearted grin. “Then how would you find me? That’s the last place to look.”
Bitterly shook her head, but couldn’t suppress a smile. Peter was a year younger than her, and had always been her best friend. They went to the same boarding school, and now that Bitterly had graduated Peter wanted the same freedom. He was scruffy and lanky, appearing as though he lived on that stoop. He had dirty blonde hair that was such a dirty shade of blonde that his roots were dark brown. He had crystal perfect green blue eyes that had such a spark that they were filled with the verve of life, so much so that when he was truly beaming, his eyes made his whole face seem to glow. The school and basically everyone else said he was a scruffy troublemaker; Bitterly said he was iridescent.
“You’re staying in school.”
He scrunched up his face, and sat up properly so Bitterly could sit next to him. “I know. I’d be better off somewhere else though. I could be an apprentice somewhere; it’d be much more thrilling.”
“You only have the rest of this term left, and then you can do whatever you want,” Bitterly said, sitting next to him.
“Yes, I know. So what have you to show today?”
Bitterly beamed at him. “I finished it. The entire collection.”
Peter’s eyes lit up with excitement and his face gave off that glow. “Well, let’s see it then.”

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Let's Call It a Sabbatical

  Hello to the few people who read this blog. As I'm sure you have noticed, I have not posted since January. While I feel slightly guilty about this, I am not filled with regret, I've just been busy. School started up again, I learned to knit, I discovered Pinterest, and I now have a social life for possibly the first time ever. Senior year, I tell ya. Anyway, I do apologize for neglecting my blog, and I will try to be better. March will be filled with at least a hand full of posts. So, I shall call February a sabbatical, and I hope to write some entertaining stuff in the near future. Until then, enjoy this picture of a corgi on a futon. Specifically, my corgi, Ginger, on a futon at a place we vacationed. You see, she's so cute you almost have to forgive for not posting. Her cuteness dispels your inner rage at my laziness.