NaNoWriMo

"You climb a long ladder until you can see over the roof, or over the clouds. You are writing a book. You watch your shod feet step on each round rung, one at a time; you do not hurry and do not rest. Your feet feel the step ladder’s balance; the long muscles in your thigh check its sway. You climb steadily, doing your job in the dark. When you reach the end, there is nothing more to climb. The sun hits you. The bright wideness surprises you; you had forgotten, there was an end. You look back at the ladder’s two feet on the distant grass, astonished." –Annie Dillard

This is exactly what it sounds like.

Third Contest!

First of all, the winners to last week's contest:

GRAND WINNER

• "I can kill you a thousand different ways. How does that make you feel?" (Robin)

HONORABLE MENTIONS

• “Hand me your purse, or I’ll drink this cappuccino right in front of you, and you won’t get a drop!” (Squishy)
• "Soon the whole world will fall to my power and the pants factories will all be closed down and no more will their evil spread through the land" (Nick)
• "You're not dead yet? Wait." (Robin)
• “Tell me where the money is, or I’ll make you go to your orthodontist appointment, and I won’t let you brush first.” (Squishy)
• “The worms will eat your body very slowly, yes.” (Me)

Except I kept my personal best out because I plan to use it.

This week's contest: Bad Hallmark cards.

Example: Sorry for the loss of your loved one. Are you free on Saturday?

evidence

Not adequate, of course, but small evidence that my nieces are amazingly cute. This is Sita, who is now a little over two years old. Sorry if it's a bit grainy; my sister took it with her camera.

I am clearly masochistic

The obvious reasons:

1. I signed up for NaNoWriMo. Again.
   
2. I read Twilight and its sequels in their entirety. You can have at me later, but I must say I found them contrived, unappealing on several levels, and somewhat trite.
3. I ate a Mary Jane.
   

7777777

Tagged by Mrs. G. Yes, seven facts! Yay!

1. I read Twilight and it was... not as bad as I was worried it would be. (I read it to gain my own opinions.)
2. I think Beauty and the Beast is a terribly romantic story, when done right. I also think the Beast should be totally repulsive and/or terrifying, so she really does have to fall in love with him despite the fact she can't stand to look at him.
3. I can eat an entire can (six servings) of cranberry sauce almost within one sitting. I can if it's a kind of a long sitting.
4. I'm beginning to resent the fact that Thanksgiving falls in November. In NaNoWriMo.
5. I find it hard to believe that there are people who don't like babies.
6. When I was five I went to a Lutheran Pre-school. I remember four other students there: Nick, Luke from my old church, Chrystal (the only other girl), and a boy named Timmy. I remember Timmy because he left halfway through the year, and I was sure something bad had happened. I thought the government took him or he died or something. I'm still not sure.
7. I'm out of words. They're gone.

So. Tagging. Nick, Nat, Elle, Anan, Sarah, OFHP. If they want to.

mo' patterns

I decided to look through all the VOGUE PARIS ORIGINAL patterns, namely because of this dominant expression. I think it's hilarious.

So there's this one, which I actually kind of like, minus the flower.

Then you have funny pictures, like the one where the lady is being abducted. I suppose that isn't funny, though. In this one, Ms. Bright Red is about to slap the Mr. because he's making fun of somebody.

They are obviously aliens. Wearing wigs.

Here, Left won't look at Right because she looks like a clown and she doesn't want to laugh.

This seems to have been the inspiration for that one dress in the Narnia movie.

And speaking of fur... this hat on the immediate left is eating the lady's head. And as far as this pattern goes, the dress is nothing special, but the cape! Oh, wow!

expression

Wow. Do you see their faces? They definitely have huge superiority complexes. It's probably the dresses.

And they are burnt to a crisp. Poor things.