Alligator in French is, in fact, alligator.

Today is officially new year's eve. It's going to be sexy.

I am going to have eight billion friends over and we are going to party and eat and giggle and play freaking video games.

I have not done a book review in ages.

I have not completed a book in ages. I've reread several of my favorites, but I haven't finished a new one. I've started about fifteen (those include Clockwork Angel and Sapphique).

I've been busy being a stupid and playing Sims 3 and reading manga and watching anime.

Sims 3 is an amazing game. My sims, however, are stupid. Let me first set the stage.

I like making Sims of either characters from things I write (LIKE MY NOVEL YOU'LL GET TO SEE INSIDE MY NOVEL WHILE I EXPLAIN THIS) or my friends.

The first family I made in Sims was my trio of main characters plus the best friend's love interest.

Quintille (AUGH IT'S SUCH A LAME NAME WHY WOULD I EVER NAME SOMEONE THAT I NEED TO CHANGE IT.) is my main character and the character creator didn't have any good hair and he looks ugly. Also, since I got only around to figuring out/describing what my characters look like more than halfway through the novel, I ended up getting him and his love interest's hair color mixed up. Way to go, me. He ends up being THE FREAKING PRESIDENT, so I figured that the political track would be good for him. In his wishes, he keeps wanting to quit his job and woohoo with his love interest. Woohoo is amazing because that's one of the ways the game can get away with a T rating. I read that on the tropes page on it. You should try reading it, it's interesting. He adopted a baby because he's weird and he couldn't figure out how to marry his love interest. In that last sentence, replace he with I. Puts out his love interest's fires. Scolds love interest for not going to work. Encourages creeping on young children.


Chemile (AUGH IT'S SUCH A LAME NAME I NEED TO CHANGE IT WHY WOULD I EVER NAME SOMEONE THAT AUGH WHYYY.) is my main character's love interest. Stupid. Does not go to work. Makes fires and stands in them. Creeps on young children.

Lue (I really like this name, mons) is my main character's best friend. Blonde, stupid and whoreish. The most notable of her stupidness is stealing babies. You heard me right. She legitimately STEALS BABIES. Well, not babies plural. Not yet, at least. She picks up Quinny's baby, walks around the house, drops it several times, picks it back up and eventually ends up in the back yard. DROPS IT NEXT TO THE SWIMMING POOL. LEAVES IT THERE. Sometimes when I'm paying attention to another sim, I'll see that the baby's happy meter is low and I have Quinny go to its room and it's NOT THERE. And it's in the FREAKING BACKYARD.

Lumin (okay name, I could have done better) is best friend's love interest. He's probably the best out of all of them. He does things extreme and has a mohawk and he aged up and now his everyday clothes are a green tanktop and purple track pants. And he has a mohawk and he has a mohawk and looks like a freaking stupid. Other than that, he goes to work everyday and is a CIA agent even though his dream was to become a forensic person and I chose the wrong side of law enforcement or something. Whatever, he'll deal.

There are my sims and my characters in my novel and that's totally not how they are in the novel, even though I should totally make them that way because it would be funny.

But I haven't addressed the title of this lovely post yet.

Recently, whenever I talk to a friend of mine (conveniently named Erin as well) I say random words like fish and she responds in French and I say more words and I try to stump her. And I said alligator and she didn't respond and eventually told me that alligator in French is, in fact, alligator.

Just a little fact I thought y'all should know.

New year's resolutions never work out.

This year, I am going to use REVERSE psychology on myself. I will be saying the opposite of what I ACTUALLY want to do. It's sure to work.

• I will not be more fabulous. Not any more than I actually am. I have reached my capacity.
• I will not grow my hair out. Really freaking short is long enough for me!
• I'll ALWAYS go on the computer before doing my homework. The reverse is not an option. Who wants good grades?
• On school nights, I will go to bed extremely late. Three or four is good. You don't need quality sleep! The bags-under-your-eyes are in style right now.
• When my driver's test comes around, I will fail it with FLYING COLORS. Especially the parallel parking part.
• I am going to lose NaNo '11. I will write no more than two hundred words a day, if at all. I will have no plot and Mary-Sue characters. I will write like a freaking STEPHANIE MEYER.
• I am not going to make a hat. I will give up and cut it into pieces and cry. 
• It's impossible. I will never finish reading all the freaking books on my book wall. I could never finish all of them in one year.
• I won't finish putting up sticky notes on my walls and various other things from my ceiling. It would make my room far too ugly. Plus, the colors clash.
• I wouldn't imagine of blogging more than once a week. Maybe once a month is better. 
• I will die. I can't live through another whole year. Plus, the year after next is 2012 and I'll end up dying anyway. It will be much less painful to do it this way.
• I will not try out for Romeo and Juliet. And I will most definitely not get to role of Mercutio who happens to be most fabulous person in the whole world.
• I will be horrified and disappointed when The Legend of Korra comes out. It will be absolutely horrible and I will cry after every episode where I don't see Toph.
• I will not save up enough money to buy an iPad or a laptop. They're far too expensive. I can't do that. Not in a whole year.
• I will make sure that my room is covered in a layer of dirt and candy wrappers.
• I will also let down the MANY readers of my blog with lame posts. Prepare to be bored.

I think those are some pretty fine resolutions.

Now for some predictions of the year to come that are not in reverse psychology format.

• Everyone will start panicking and stocking up on canned food for 2012.
• Goliath will come out and be the best freaking thing ever.
• I will turn older.
• The second half of the seventh Harry Potter movie will be sexy, especially with Gringotts and everything. And maybe they'll cut out a few deaths because there are a few choice people who I love.
• Sarah Palin may or may not be mauled by a bear. Or maybe a moose. Either will do.
• I will continue being a stupid and keep using dumb words like squish and fish and alligator and sexy and things like that when I can't think of anything else. 
• I will win THE GAME.
• Actually I already have, but I'm sure that this year the Pope or the Prime Minister of somewhere will confirm it.YAY!

You say stalking, I say people-watching.

Have you ever gone to the mall just to follow people around and see what they buy and make up stories about their lives?

That was pretty much my only reason to ever go to the mall. That, and to get giant cinnamon rolls.

It's especially fun to do this during the holidays, since there is more of a variety and you have to decide if they're buying something for themselves or as a gift.

Don't tell me you've never done it. For example, you're in the center of the mall. You close your eyes. The first person you see, you follow. Quietly. It helps if you have a friend and you talk with them and act natural.

Go into the same stores. Stop a few clothing/whatever racks behind them. If they're with another person, listen to what they're saying. If not, notice if they pick things up, if they make sounds, facial expressions, if they ask an employee a question. Did they try anything on or use any free samples? Do they actually buy anything or do they just look at things?When they leave, browse for a moment more, looking at them out of the corner of your eye. If you have money and have found something that you like, buy it.

Quickly relocate the person. Notice how they walk and how they hold themselves. Note if they wave to other people, smile, or if they stop and talk to someone. Do they have a cell phone? How often is it out? Do they have a bluetooth? Do their clothes look expensive, normal, or secondhand? Dyed  hair or natural? Glasses or not? What kind of shoes are they wearing? What season is it? Are their clothes and shoes season-appropriate? What stores do they go into? Do they go into any food places? What to they get?

After fifteen or so minutes, when you believe you have collected enough data, retreat to somewhere (preferably with food to get) and discuss with the friend that you have brought along for the journey. What is their life story? Are they sad or happy? What are their hobbies? Favorite books and movies? Lame or interesting email address? Leader or follower? Did/do they play sports? Can they type fast? Do they have many friends? Do they have any addictions (from the internet to alcohol)? What is their name? Do they have pets or children? Brothers and sisters? What grades did/do they get? What is their dream job?

It's amazing how much you can guess about a person just by following them around for fifteen minutes.

Never waffle in the shower.

Happy winter break, everyone! It's time for two(ish) weeks of sleeping in and not even getting out of your pajamas half of the time.

So, if you are reading this, you would probably know that I play soccer. I don't play soccer. I PLAY soccer.

If you can't decode that, it means that I play it for the fun and not for winning. But winning is usually a bonus, if we manage it.

Back to soccer. My old team, which we origianlly thought had been broken up because we got out of our agey league thing, has gotten back together. We squished around and we are no longer the lame FIREBOLTS. We are the EVIL SOCKS OF DOOM. Isn't that the sexiest name you've ever heard of? Try and beat that, David Beckham.

I'm cold and it's lateish and I am cold and I want to sleepify and I will leave you until (hopefully) tomorrow with these parting words.

Never waffle in the shower.

Ohanawana!

Everyone knows about those annoying bell-ringers for Salvation Army.

Did you know that tonight, I rang the bells and sang songs and everything? And my ears are ringing from it augh.

Ohanawana!

That's what you say when... I don't know. It's just a thing to say when we do this. We did it last year too. And I think the store that we did it at probably hates us because we sang Dr. Horrible and A Very Potter Musical and various other things and we rang a billion bells really loudly all at the same time.

I'm really tired now because of it. I didn't think that singing and Ohanawanaing and ringing bells and thanking people for their donations was as tiring as it actually is.

I thought I would have a lot to write on this fabulous bell-ringing topic, but I guess my brain just doesn't work because it's not even that late and I was bloofling today.

Have a llama.

Everyone knows that people don't adapt to change well. I am no exception.

My mother is insane. For more details, please refer to picture on the right.

During the summer, my mother keeps my house at an insane temperature of seventy-six degrees.

Now, before I get to where I'm going with this, I would like to take the time to say that the air circulation to my room is not the best. During the winter, it's easily two or three degrees colder than the rest of the house. During the summer, it's definitely three or four degrees warmer than everything else. So when I say seventy-six, I really mean seventy-eight or nine. Now, this past summer, the air conditioner for the lower half of my house broke. You see, I live on the upper half, but hot air rises. It goes up the stairs and into my room.

Especially this season, my family has been getting sick and I've been quarantining myself in my room, with the door closed. To have my room be at least slightly similar to the temperature of the rest of the house, the door has to be open. Do you see my moral dilemma?

Back to your original broadcast.

During the winter, my mother keeps my house at sixty-six.

That, my friends, is a more-than ten degree difference between summer and winter. I cannot adapt to this. At all. I've been trying and trying and my whole life, I have failed. I have been piling blankets on top of my comforter and hugging scalding hot water bottles.

I don't think I have the best circulation in the world. My nose is always frozen in the winter. Whenever I type, my fingers freeze (usually it's not to the keyboard). And even with the fuzziest socks, my toes are stull numb.

So currently, I have a hoodie on over my normal clothes. I'm (un)happy to tell all of you that I'm still shivering. Now, I could get up, get my Snuggie or a blanket or some gloves, but it's not always helpful, because I cannot type with gloves on. My fingers slip around and I always end up keyboard mashing on accident.

My solution to my warmth issue? Whine and complain at my mother in hope that the movement will warm me up, because I know she will not move the temperature from that hideous spot. I also suppose that I could go downstairs, where my grandmother is amazing and likes temperatures over seventy. But there's no computer to blog on.

Little Shop o' Horrors!

My school did Little Shop and I went to see it today and it was really amazing and stuff.

And I was going to blog about something really amazing that I can't remember, but I just realized the piles of homework that I have and I should probably try and get that done.

So I think everyone will have to like, eat a bacon or something, because I won't be blogging until Tuesday, at the least.

I have a hole in my sock.

It's right on my big toe, on my left foot. It's not even at the bottom, it's on the top and part of my nail is showing. It's really been bothering my all night, but I'm too lazy to find a sock without a hole, much less find one more or less the same size as the other one.

You see, all the socks that I have that are clean and I can find are either knee-highs or have holes or are too small because I used to wear them when I was little and I've never given them away or anything.

I like socks a lot. I really like to mismatch socks because if you have two pairs of really cool ones, you can just wear one of each and then it's like BAM. I HAVE THE SUPERPOWERS OF TWO DIFFERENT SOCKS. But it's really weird when you wear one ankle sock and one knee-high and then it's all squeezy on one knee and then the other isn't and it feels weird.

If that made any sense.

I have Halloween socks, I have beach socks, I have Valentine's day socks, I have socks that say 'when pigs fly', I have slipper-socks, I have rainbow socks, I have sparkly socks, I have rainbow sparkly socks, I have fuzzy socks, I have socks with holes in them, I have Wii Fit socks, I have tie-dyed socks, I have socks with little grippies, I have argyle socks, I have polka spotted socks, and a billion more kinds.

What I don't have is pain colored socks. Except white ones, which I usually wear as a last resort. I think that boring socks are boring and if you wear them, you should go die in a bucket.

I think everyone should go to THIS LINK and listen to Dan Rad (Daniel Radcliffe) sing THE ELEMENTS SONG BY TOM LEHRER. It's easily one of the sexiest things ever.


 Two hours pass.


And for the past half hour, I've been trying to figure out what exactly makes a midwestern accent. And it's weird. I think I'll do a separate post on that. Maybe tomorrow if I can remember.

The most fail post ever.

Even though I haven't blogged in ages, I have realized that I still don't have anything to blog about. This past month was filled with staying in my room and typing up a storm and not having a social life.

I've barely read anything, so I can't talk about books. I've barely done anything, so I can't talk about fabulous things that have happened. I've barely done anything cool at all.

This will probably be a stupid stream-of-consciousness that will end up being stupid. Even though I used stupid twice in that sentence. 

As I write this, my dumb dog is squeaking her stupid squeaky ball that she just re-discovered. It's really clashing with One Jump Ahead from Aladdin.

So I have this Harry Potter (movie) calendar. And November was Snape and NaNo. Every day I wrote my wordcounts on it and it's just so satisfying to see that I hit 50,000 before the thirtieth. And Snape's too sexy to take down. Plus, next month is Ginny with a bunch of hearts and lame. So it will stay November for just a few more days.

I want ice cream.

Augh, this is too short, and I'm morally against short posts because I hate it when they end before you scroll down and stuff. I don't know why. That's why I like long posts and pictures a lot. It increases my happiness level.

I am tired. I just watched some Soul Eater, some Stardriver and some Umisho. I'm anime-ful tonight. Also, everyone should look at this.

You're welcome.

Homework? Cleaning my room? PSH. Writhe in pain? Bill Kaulitz? YES.

I have serveral confessions to make.


I have an unhealthy obsession with Bill Kaulitz. I mean, who wouldn't? He's absolutely beautiful.


I have a fake-diseasle called costochondritis, which basically means that my ribs hate me so much and just inflict pain on me whenever they want to. I take painkillers on a regular basis to dull the knives jabbing into my chest. Sometimes I can't remember to save my life if I took it when I'm trying to remember if I did an hour after I'm supposed to, so I don't take it because I'm afraid that I'll die because I took too much.

A hot water bottle has recently become my new best friend.

I haven't cleaned my room since summer. That translates to clothes, books, papers, dust jackets, sticky notes, nail polish, notebooks, CDs, socks, a Bubbles wig, DVDs, and the occasional zerbra snuggie (see that picture? That is totally me) are everywhere. I promised my mother that my room would be clean once NaNo was over, but look, it's over and my room is still hideous.


I promised several friends that I would lend them copies of books I own, but I keep losing them in my room, so I make up excuses that other people have them. Which is some of the time true.

I have a failing (quarter) grade in both science and math. Science because I turned everything in and maybe forgot to put my name on it and maybe because my teacher has yet to grade more than two things for the quart. Math because I hate geometry and because the teacher never gives due dates and I don't know when to turn things in.

I am currently convinced that I am going to die because of my diseasle. It's so painful and I keep crying and the only time it doesn't hurt is when I'm sleeping. If I can get to sleep with the stabbies.

I recently won NaNo and stopped writing my novel, even though I easily have 25k more words to write because my plot is so long and complicated.

The end.