Thursday, April 30, 2015

The Box People

Her manicured fingertips toyed with the box people he had loved. They had created them together last summer one sticky day, she the tall one, and he the little one. Then a gun. They said it was over quickly. For him. Her tears hit the cardboard heads; sobs hit his bare walls.
“You’re a pretty cool sister.”
She smiled.
“Thanks. You know, you’re pretty cool too.”
People said once he became a teenager, he would grow distance. She’d never be able to find out.
She knew she had to move on. Guitars, posters and figurines had all made their way into the garage sale pile. Not these boxes. She couldn’t just let them go to a stranger.
Leaving the house, she went to his music school, past the brick wall to where his hidden spot was. He was the only one who knew that there were remnants of a paved walkway beyond the elderberry bushes.
Carefully, she placed the little people down on a pavement stone, their little arms touching, as if holding hands.
“We’ll always have each other, right?”
She grabbed his hand.
“Of course, bud.”

She stood up and left, her hand empty.

Wednesday, April 29, 2015

Versatile Blogger Award

Hello Lovelies!

Here's my award picture. :)

The wonderful Andrea over at Lumos! has nominated me for the Versatile Blogger Award! Thanks Andrea!

I happen to like your tweaked rules, so I'll use them too.

1. Create your own Versatile Blogger Award picture and add it to your post. Your imagination's the limit!
2. Thank the blogger who nominated you
3. Complete the challenge set for you by the blogger who nominated you and set your own.
4. Nominate bloggers who you think fits the adjective "versatile"
5.  Let the bloggers know you've nominated them

Alright. My challenge from Andrea was to share seven random facts about myself without editing them. As I type this, I'm slightly concerned about what's going to pop into my head, but here goes!

1. I spent over an hour organizing over 300 pennies by date on Sunday night, just because I wanted to. I know that sounds really quite absurd, but it's true. The oldest one I had was from 1947! However, my favourite design was the one the pennies had in the 70's. 

2. I am attending two concerts this summer: Ed Sheeran in June and 5SOS in August. I am so uberly duberly excited that I'm giggling whilst writing this.

3. I've just started watching Covert Affairs on Netflix and I think Auggie is the best character, hands down, no debate. My sister and my mum think Jai is better: better looking, better mannered, better spy. I firmly and entirely disagree.

4. My favourite activities in the world are writing, singing and photography. I'm always amazed at how much happier, lighter and calmer I am after doing so.

5. I want to travel so, so, so badly. Everywhere. Anywhere. In a boat. Car. Plane. 

6. I discovered the following quote yesterday and I'm quite in love with it. I think I might turn it into a poster...

7. Jonathan just spilled a huge crate of olives in the fridge downstairs and it reeks so badly and now I have to go clean it up. So although you can't see me, I'm taking a break to clean up the wonderfully disgusting smelling olives.

Alright! I have returned and changed my pants since the ones I was wearing are covered in olive juice. The challenge I'm setting for my nominees is to list seven things that inspire you. Place, people, songs, words, pictures, anything that gets your creativity flowing. 

And the people I nominate are:
Ali from Aliology
Etain from Etain's Little World
Rhiannon from A Little Red Notebook
Kat from (Almost) Completely Mad
(and I know two of you have already been nominated for this award, so just think of it as an extra nominated and an extra challenge to do)

Thanks again Andrea for the nomination!

Thursday, April 23, 2015


“David, why can’t you just tell me? You’ve never kept anything from me before!”  
      Esther followed me as I tried to walk away towards my car. I knew she was mad by the edge in her voice, the way her footsteps fell heavy on the pavement behind me. You notice these things about a person after being their best friend for fifteen years.
“Just drop it Esther, okay? It’s not a big deal.” I shrugged, going to reach for my keys in my pocket. My clammy hands shook.
“No,” she pointed angrily at me. “No, it is a big deal or you wouldn’t be keeping it from me. Just tell me what’s going on!”
     I groaned and turned to face her. “Can’t you just give it a rest already? I swear, you’re always like this. Nag, nag, nag. God, you’re so annoying.” I watched words shoot out of my mouth and puncture her. I wished I could take them back. She quickly masked the hurt though. I hated that mask.
“Oh excuse me,” she spat, “I guess I’m just not used to my best friend keeping secrets from me. What on earth could be so important that you couldn’t tell me?”
“You wouldn’t understand.” I turned back to my car.
She was silent a moment. “Don’t you dare say that David,” she spoke in a low tone. “If there’s one person on the entire planet who would understand, it’s me and you know it. So you’d better come with another excuse or tell me truth because I’m sick of this.”
I laughed but there was no humor in it. It was hollow, void of any joy. I spun round to face her. “You’re sick of this? I’m sick of this! God, I want to tell you so badly.”
“Then why don’t you?” She cried.
“I can’t!”
“Why, why can’t you?”
“Because!” We were both yelling, our voices filling the night air and the mostly empty parking lot.
“Because what? I’m not going to get mad! I promise, whatever you’ve done, I won’t get mad or hurt.” She brought her voice down, trying to calm the situation. I didn’t follow her lead.
“No, you’re going to get scared, and then you’re going to run away! And I can’t lose you!”
“You can’t scare me. Nothing you could do would ever scare me!”
     “Oh really?” I took two steps forwards, closing the gap between us. “How about this?” In one swift motion, I placed my hands on her cheeks and pressed my lips to hers. She was warm and I was shaking, although I couldn’t tell if it was from rage, fear or the pure joy of doing what I had wanted to do for so long. Hesitantly, I pulled back and looked at her, terrified of what I would see there, ready for her to run.
Her eyes were open in shock, and they looked into mine with an expression I couldn’t read.

Then, she kissed me back.

Monday, April 20, 2015

Depths of Despair

Hello Lovelies,

My heart is in the depths of despair, truly broken.

Jonathan Crombie passed away four days ago on April 15 and my heart has broken.

     For anyone who's followed my blog for a long time knows that I love Anne of Green Gables, the book and the movie. Despite my mother's vehement protests, it is my belief that Jonathan Crombie was the best Gilbert Blythe ever.

     I fell in love with him in the books and then again in the movies. The boyish grin. The kind sensitivity. The playful teasing. The curly hair. As melancholic as it sounds, a piece of my heart will always lie with the boy with the "curly brown hair, roguish hazel eyes, and a mouth twisted into a teasing smile".

     "A world without any Gilbert in it! Anne repeated the words drearily. Would it not be a very lonely, forlorn place?"

     Yes Anne, I'm afraid it will be. But he will forever live on in our hearts, in our books and on our screens as we watch you both fall in love time and time again.

     Rest in peace Jonathan Crombie. You were amazing.

Thursday, April 16, 2015

The Blonde Boy

     Long blonde hair from under which, two shy but curious eyes peep. The hair falls straight, just like his figure, which looks like it's been stretched long and taunt like an elastic band. A black baseball cap with red designs sits backwards on his head, pressing the hair down onto his face. I know from his height and outfit that he's got to be at least 19, maybe 20, but his small bones and thin frame make it hard to know for certain. He's dressed in black. Black skinny jeans, black hoodie, black t-shirt. The only colour comes from his checkered kerchief tied loosely around his neck. The sleeves on his hoodie are too long and they cover his hands. Only pale fingertips peep out from under them. He uses his sweater paws constantly to move the blonde emo fringe out of his eyes.

     He moves in the background, weaving around crowds, stopping only to talk to one or two people. He walks with an ease, slightly hunched. He doesn't look insecure, but comfortable.

     I'd seen him first working behind the sound desk a few hours ago. He sat, moving the dials, a determined force behind his work. Now he's winding up cords on stage whilst everyone mingles in the big room. The chords go round and round his hands as he unplugs one after another, tidying up after the musicians. He doesn't look bored or frustrated with his work, but determined. At ease. Content. I wonder if he ever had any desire to be the one up there on the stage. Or if he's happy in the back.

     He's chewing gum, but not obnoxiously. He doesn't smack it or accompany it with a cocky attitude. It seems people like that tend to chew gum. No, instead, it seems like it's providing him with something to do when he must sit still. The energy he has is obvious in the way he leaps from the stage to unhook the speakers. Then later, when he takes trips to the van, loading up the electrical equipment. The steps he takes are huge. Probably twice as large as mine. Then again, that isn't hard to do.

     He looks up at me once and a crooked polite smile makes its way to his face. It's full of youth and an easiness, unusual for someone his age. His face is clear and so very pale. But then again, it's still winter in Canada. Snow's only just left in April. He probably hasn't seen the sun in almost five months.

     A few minutes later and the room's cleared out. I leave the building and the cold wind nips at my skin. On my way home I replay the events of the evening and my mind falls on the blonde boy. I wonder at his life story. Who he was, what his family was like, what his dreams were. I'll probably never see the blonde boy again in my life, but whoever he was, may his life be grand. And may he find a hoodie that actually fits.

Monday, April 13, 2015

A Rant on Playerish People

Hello Lovelies,

It's been a bit since I've done a rant and I definitely have something to rant on. Just allow me to get my giant megaphone and the rocks I intend to throw...

Alright, so, for people who've been following me for a bit know that I am not really someone who's good around guys. Particularly guys who could have any sort of interest in me, or guys I might potentially have an interest in (see 50 Shades of Awkward or Secretly, I'm Anna for perfect examples of this). So it should come as no surprise that around players, I'm fairly clueless. Then when I reailze what's happening, I get rather frustrated. Yes, this rant is inspired by a specific person.

First, why? Why the heck do you guys have the need to make others uncomfortable in this arena? Any interest girls end up having in you is going to be based on absolutely nothing but your slimy, charming, manipulative ways. And then as soon as you "win", you're going to lose, because she's gonna see what a knotty-pated canker-blossom you are. Or you're going to break her heart when she realizes you're using her.

Second, why is it attractive to some people to play people that they know well? You know the hot buttons and what's going to get them riled up. It's no challenge. You can have them wrapped around your finger in a minute. So why do you feel the need? Is it because you feel you've lost your touch, so you go to someone you can easily get a reaction from? I don't get it. I'd would have thought players would want to pick someone who'd be a challenge, someone who they'd have to work at to get a response from.

Third, generally now, do people realize how dehumanizing this is? Playing someone? The very name of it is horrible. You are literally playing someone like a game. Like they mean the same to you as a game of cards that you're trying to win. That's it. The only thing you're using them for is your own benefit. Do you not see how harmful this can be to the other person? You don't actually care about them, because if you did, you wouldn't be treating them like this, with no regard for their emotions. You're wrapping their feelings up in a big knot and then handing it back to them with a smirk, a wink and the shallow satisfaction of knowing that you've got them riled up.

Fourth, specifically to this person, why do you think that I'm not going to notice? Yeah, you're subtle and can deny it. Yeah, you're good at what you do, but I can count them number of girls you've done this to in the past. I've watched you. I've seen what you do and how you coax the blushing and giggles from them. Do you really think I'm not going to see? I'll hand it to you, you're good. Yeah, you've managed to get a reaction, but the smirks and charm and flirting has conjured nothing but a surface response. Somehow, unbeknownst to me, you manage to get the blushing and stammering from me, but believe me when I say, this whole thing has done nothing but secure your position as an insecure, unfeeling guy in my mind. Slowly, you're being replaced by Joey Donner. Congrats to you.

In conclusion, don't play with people or they will rant about you on their blog and then dream about ways of dumping all the discomfort, annoying heart palpitations and frustration over your head.