- Writing stupid songs
- Attempting to be witty
- Drawing on myself
- Drawing on others
- Finding the onion (See "How Not To Make Peanut Butter Cookies")
- Personifying everything that doesn't already have a name or face
- Drawing faces on bananas/pistachio shells/other foodstuffs
- Yelling and swearing at uncooperative inanimate objects
- Pointing and laughing
- Killing the repo guy on Sims 3
- Slowly losing what little patience I used to possess
- Having a dog nom-nom-nom on my leg
- Not setting anything on fire
- Not making anything explode
- Not making anything implode
- Yet
- Preheating the oven
- Singing a duet with a lamppost
- Going crazier than usual
- Reading Twilight to put me to sleep
- Reading Maximum Ride to wake me up
- Talking to the TV
- Thinking about updating something but ultimately deciding it would be too much effort to log in
- Signing Off,
- Sweet but Insane
Friday, April 15, 2011
How I've Spent My Spring Vacation (So Far)
How Not To Make Peanut Butter Cookies
Hi there Sunshine!
So it's Spring Break. In an effort to defeat the boredom that comes hand-in-hand with not having a vacation home somewhere with white, sandy beaches (Or anywhere else), Teenage Venom and I banded together to make cookies. Peanut Butter Cookies, to be exact. The process was interesting, to say the least.
Now, we aren't exactly five star baking prodigies, but we don't really suck, either. If Teenage Venom and I were Sims, our Cooking Skill Levels would be in the three-to-four range. That's why the end results were somehow delicious. Compared to the process, it was a miracle, really.
Anyway, before we even started making the cookies, we were goofing around and having a laugh. This somehow resulted in us sticking several miscellanious food items on the oven, which was thankfully off. We named them Apocalypse Cookies, because my mom forbid us from actually baking them, so we were waiting for the Apocalypse, when temperatures would hopefully reach 350 degrees farenheit and bake our cookies.
Anyway, we cleaned all of that out and started mixing up the ingredients. And by "We", I mean Venom read off what we needed while I got it out, seeing as it was my kitchen and I knew where everything was. The recipe called for a measurement of baking powder (I don't remember how much) mixed with a cup and 1/4 cup of flour. Venom read this off to me, but I either wasn't paying attention or didn't hear her.
In any case, I only heard her say "1/4 cup of flour". So that's how much I put in.
Skipping ahead a few steps, the recipe required butter, sugar, brown sugar, one egg, and vanilla extract to be mixed together in the electric mixer until "Pale and fluffy". We compared its paleness to that of my forearm, since I'm the palest geek you'll ever meet. Vampires got nothin' on me.
We were just about to add the flour when my mom wandered in and saved our asses. "Is that all baking powder?" She peered into the bowl worriedly.
"No," I replied. "There's flour in there."
"No way." Mom shook her head. "That's not enough."
"Yes huh!" Venom chimed in. "A cup and a quarter cup of flour."
"Wait--" I said confusedly. "It's a quarter cup. Right?"
"And a whole cup."
"...Crap."
Thank God for Moms.
We added in the last of the flour, mixed it all up, then started plopping it on the cookie sheets. The first two batches came out okay, despite one of each being mutilated by Venom checking for done-ness with a tiny fork before they were even halfway done. Then we had only about enough dough left for two or three cookies. I combined it all into one and dubbed it "Pangea, the SuperCookie."
We opened the oven to put Pangea in, when suddenly...
"Hey... there's an... onion... in there...."
A single onion, the remains of our Apocalypse Cookies, had been charred to crisp for about an hour and was sitting sadly in the back of the oven, smoking slightly. We rescued the forlorn little onion and dumped it rudely in the garbage.
For some reason, I felt the need to take Pangea out before it was done. When I tried to scoop it off the rack to dry, it crumbled into pieces. Kind of ironic, when you think about it. One of the piece was even shaped vaguely like Africa.
They were delicious.
Signing Off,
Sweet but Insane
So it's Spring Break. In an effort to defeat the boredom that comes hand-in-hand with not having a vacation home somewhere with white, sandy beaches (Or anywhere else), Teenage Venom and I banded together to make cookies. Peanut Butter Cookies, to be exact. The process was interesting, to say the least.
Anyway, before we even started making the cookies, we were goofing around and having a laugh. This somehow resulted in us sticking several miscellanious food items on the oven, which was thankfully off. We named them Apocalypse Cookies, because my mom forbid us from actually baking them, so we were waiting for the Apocalypse, when temperatures would hopefully reach 350 degrees farenheit and bake our cookies.
Anyway, we cleaned all of that out and started mixing up the ingredients. And by "We", I mean Venom read off what we needed while I got it out, seeing as it was my kitchen and I knew where everything was. The recipe called for a measurement of baking powder (I don't remember how much) mixed with a cup and 1/4 cup of flour. Venom read this off to me, but I either wasn't paying attention or didn't hear her.
In any case, I only heard her say "1/4 cup of flour". So that's how much I put in.
Skipping ahead a few steps, the recipe required butter, sugar, brown sugar, one egg, and vanilla extract to be mixed together in the electric mixer until "Pale and fluffy". We compared its paleness to that of my forearm, since I'm the palest geek you'll ever meet. Vampires got nothin' on me.
We were just about to add the flour when my mom wandered in and saved our asses. "Is that all baking powder?" She peered into the bowl worriedly.
"No," I replied. "There's flour in there."
"No way." Mom shook her head. "That's not enough."
"Yes huh!" Venom chimed in. "A cup and a quarter cup of flour."
"Wait--" I said confusedly. "It's a quarter cup. Right?"
"And a whole cup."
"...Crap."
Thank God for Moms.
We added in the last of the flour, mixed it all up, then started plopping it on the cookie sheets. The first two batches came out okay, despite one of each being mutilated by Venom checking for done-ness with a tiny fork before they were even halfway done. Then we had only about enough dough left for two or three cookies. I combined it all into one and dubbed it "Pangea, the SuperCookie."
We opened the oven to put Pangea in, when suddenly...
"Hey... there's an... onion... in there...."
A single onion, the remains of our Apocalypse Cookies, had been charred to crisp for about an hour and was sitting sadly in the back of the oven, smoking slightly. We rescued the forlorn little onion and dumped it rudely in the garbage.
For some reason, I felt the need to take Pangea out before it was done. When I tried to scoop it off the rack to dry, it crumbled into pieces. Kind of ironic, when you think about it. One of the piece was even shaped vaguely like Africa.
They were delicious.
Signing Off,
Sweet but Insane
Friday, April 8, 2011
RANT: I Become A Hellacious Demon-Child In Defense of My Fictional Friends
Hi there Sunshine!
You know what really pisses me off? Maximum Ride Fanfictional cliches. One in particular.
We're all guilty. There a thousands of variations of this cliche, some worse than others. If you haven't written one, you've read one. It's the one where -- Well, I'm just gonna walk you through it.
Step 1 -- Setting the Scene. It's usually All Human (AH). Max and Fang are either best friends or worst enemies (Goes either way), Ella and Nudge are best friends, and Iggy will inevitably end up with one of the two, which will most likely be the extent of his part in the story. A waste of a perfectly good blind pyro chef.
2) Max puts up an unbearably large hissy fit about having to get a make-over. Sometimes to even just go shopping. Which is completely unjustified. I mean, who decided that Max must despise everything girly to the point of... this! There are tons of completely legit cases from the books where Max hints that she might even enjoy shopping once in a while. I point to Saving the World and Other Extreme Sports as proof -- Jeb pronounces Max as "incorruptible", to which Max replies "At least by power. You haven't tried chocolate or cute shoes." Also, her apocalypse rant in StWaOES has a good point.
Besides, why in the hell should she hate it? Just because she's a bad-ass butt-kicking mutant doesn't mean she doesn't want nice things. In AH fics, people are always trying to make them seem canon, but they get Max all wrong.
3) The person forcing the make-over is always Nudge. Usually accompanied by Ella. Now Nudge, I can understand, Nudge makes sense, but why bring Ella into this? She's one of my favorite characters, the one I can relate to the most! What with our love for Iggy, creepily similar moms, and the fact that her half-sister is Max and my BFF Kayla is exactly like Max, we might as well be twins! Also, no where in the books does it hint that Ella is a girly-girl, fashionista, or an OMGTOTALLYAWESOME!!1!!1!11! make-up artist.
4) After the make-over, Max apparently looks soooo hawttt that Fang falls in love with her on the spot. Even if they totally hated each other beforehand. In fact, the author often makes other male characters fall in love with her too, most often Sam or Dylan. Sometimes both.
Supposedly, Max must then go through the heart-wrenching decision of choosing between the two/three. She will probably also suck face with each of them at some point. Which is extremely non-canon. But we all know she'll choose Fang anyway, so who cares?
Another thing that drives me crazy? The Bandfics. Oh Lawd, don't even get me started on the Bandfics.
NOBODY KNOWS WHAT THE FRICK THEY'RE TALKING ABOUT!
You'd think they'd do a little research. The only reason I know they don't know what they're talking about is because my brother has a band.
They have no idea how complicated it actually is to get everything right when you're performing live. Like, how you've gotta do sound checks, you're guitar actually needs tuning, amps have cords, it can be hard for the singer to hear him or herself over the band, it's incredibly difficult to play guitar and sing at the same time. Not the kind of thing you can master right away.
And the positions of the band they put the Flock members in make no sense. It's usually a little something like this:
Max- Vocals, 'cause she's the leader
Fang- Lead Guitar, 'cause he's the second-in-command
Iggy- Drums, 'cause most people think he's stupid for some reason.
And someone like Sam or Dylan on Bass, 'cause no one cares about bass players anyway.
Being the little sister of a bass player, I know that the bass player deserves way more credit than they get. If they weren't there, you would miss them right away. They're the yin to the guitarist's yang, the balance, the rhythm-keeper. That's why I would put Fang as the bassist. He helps balance out Max's snap-decisions.
I would put Max on lead guitar, because she seems like a lead guitarist. Impulsive, fast-paced solos, but can still stick to a plan by jamming out a heavy riff. Plus, it's been made pretty clear that she cannot sing.
Drummers are some of the most stereotyped members of the music world. Why does everyone think drummers are stupid? I happen to have a monster crush on a certain very talented drummer who is not thick-headed in any sense of the word. He's actually one of the smartest people I know. And no, I'm not talking about Iggy, because I would place him as the singer. Think about it -- he's Iggy. He wouldn't be self-conscious about it at all.
And for drummer, I would say Nudge. For the simple reason that the kid has got waaay too much energy. Plus, having a girly African-American fashionista as a drummer of a rock band can help break the stereotype.
A Great FAX Song:
"I'm Only Me When I'm With You" by Taylor Swift. Possibly the only song where every line fits Max and Fang perfectly. Seriously. Go look it up, right now.
Signing Off,
Sweet but Insane
You know what really pisses me off? Maximum Ride Fanfictional cliches. One in particular.
We're all guilty. There a thousands of variations of this cliche, some worse than others. If you haven't written one, you've read one. It's the one where -- Well, I'm just gonna walk you through it.
Step 1 -- Setting the Scene. It's usually All Human (AH). Max and Fang are either best friends or worst enemies (Goes either way), Ella and Nudge are best friends, and Iggy will inevitably end up with one of the two, which will most likely be the extent of his part in the story. A waste of a perfectly good blind pyro chef.
2) Max puts up an unbearably large hissy fit about having to get a make-over. Sometimes to even just go shopping. Which is completely unjustified. I mean, who decided that Max must despise everything girly to the point of... this! There are tons of completely legit cases from the books where Max hints that she might even enjoy shopping once in a while. I point to Saving the World and Other Extreme Sports as proof -- Jeb pronounces Max as "incorruptible", to which Max replies "At least by power. You haven't tried chocolate or cute shoes." Also, her apocalypse rant in StWaOES has a good point.3) The person forcing the make-over is always Nudge. Usually accompanied by Ella. Now Nudge, I can understand, Nudge makes sense, but why bring Ella into this? She's one of my favorite characters, the one I can relate to the most! What with our love for Iggy, creepily similar moms, and the fact that her half-sister is Max and my BFF Kayla is exactly like Max, we might as well be twins! Also, no where in the books does it hint that Ella is a girly-girl, fashionista, or an OMGTOTALLYAWESOME!!1!!1!11! make-up artist.
4) After the make-over, Max apparently looks soooo hawttt that Fang falls in love with her on the spot. Even if they totally hated each other beforehand. In fact, the author often makes other male characters fall in love with her too, most often Sam or Dylan. Sometimes both.
Supposedly, Max must then go through the heart-wrenching decision of choosing between the two/three. She will probably also suck face with each of them at some point. Which is extremely non-canon. But we all know she'll choose Fang anyway, so who cares?
Another thing that drives me crazy? The Bandfics. Oh Lawd, don't even get me started on the Bandfics.
NOBODY KNOWS WHAT THE FRICK THEY'RE TALKING ABOUT!
You'd think they'd do a little research. The only reason I know they don't know what they're talking about is because my brother has a band.
They have no idea how complicated it actually is to get everything right when you're performing live. Like, how you've gotta do sound checks, you're guitar actually needs tuning, amps have cords, it can be hard for the singer to hear him or herself over the band, it's incredibly difficult to play guitar and sing at the same time. Not the kind of thing you can master right away.
And the positions of the band they put the Flock members in make no sense. It's usually a little something like this:
Max- Vocals, 'cause she's the leader
Fang- Lead Guitar, 'cause he's the second-in-command
Iggy- Drums, 'cause most people think he's stupid for some reason.
And someone like Sam or Dylan on Bass, 'cause no one cares about bass players anyway.
Being the little sister of a bass player, I know that the bass player deserves way more credit than they get. If they weren't there, you would miss them right away. They're the yin to the guitarist's yang, the balance, the rhythm-keeper. That's why I would put Fang as the bassist. He helps balance out Max's snap-decisions.
I would put Max on lead guitar, because she seems like a lead guitarist. Impulsive, fast-paced solos, but can still stick to a plan by jamming out a heavy riff. Plus, it's been made pretty clear that she cannot sing.
Drummers are some of the most stereotyped members of the music world. Why does everyone think drummers are stupid? I happen to have a monster crush on a certain very talented drummer who is not thick-headed in any sense of the word. He's actually one of the smartest people I know. And no, I'm not talking about Iggy, because I would place him as the singer. Think about it -- he's Iggy. He wouldn't be self-conscious about it at all.
And for drummer, I would say Nudge. For the simple reason that the kid has got waaay too much energy. Plus, having a girly African-American fashionista as a drummer of a rock band can help break the stereotype.
A Great FAX Song:
"I'm Only Me When I'm With You" by Taylor Swift. Possibly the only song where every line fits Max and Fang perfectly. Seriously. Go look it up, right now.
Signing Off,
Sweet but Insane
Friday, March 4, 2011
RANT: One of Those Days...
Hi there Sunshine!
Today was just one of Those Days.
You know, one of Those Days that everyone always talks about but never really explains? Yeah. I get it now.
Here are the qualifications to know that you are having One of Those Days:
It usually starts with ominous foreshadowing the night before. As in, you're laying in bed trying to go to sleep when you suddenly remember you were supposed to stay after school in the Homework Room. But since you didn't, you now have an automatic write-up. Which only gives the insane Science teacher another reason to hate you. Yes, ol' Demented DeGlee will have a field day with this, even though you shouldn't have to stay after anyway since you're not even failing.
The next morning, do not be fooled by the fact that you are having a good hair day. This is only fate satisfying their sick sense of humor by lulling you into a false sense of security. After all, what can go wrong on a good hair day?
Hah. Cue humorless chuckle.
By the time you're on the bus, you're already about to explode in someone's face. Namely, your best friend Kayla's horrible boyfriend, Arnold. I swear, every other word out of that dickwad's mouth is not only completely irritating, stereotypical of a classic "Gimme your lunch money" bully, completely disgusting, profane, and sexist, but also So. Fucking. Loud.
And trust me, I'm not usually the type to swear. But Arnold, he brings out the "SHUT THE FUCK UP" in me.
Anyway, classes start out bad and get worse. Science is first up to bat, and if that's not bad enough, Demented DeGlee appears to be as pissed off as me. Like, when I don't have a paper (I skipped bringing my binder ONE DAY, and what do I get?) she starts screaming "YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BRING A PAPER AND A PENCIL EVERYDAY" She might as well have topped it off with a good "OR I'LL RIP YOUR FUCKING ORGANS OUT". Then she stomps over to my desk, at which I am scrunched up in with my head between my arms, crying because I that's what I do when I get mad (Don't ask me why), and SLAMS down a paper in front of me, then starts obsessively clicking through the slides so there is absolutely no way I can copy the notes down.
After Science is Art. Which would be great, if our teacher knew what the hell she was talking about. I mean, I can draw better than her. 'Nuff said.
Between classes, I was walking out of the bathroom, when who should be on the other side of the door than... HANNAH THE BITCH FROM HELL! I will not even go into what she did to Kayla last year. But she takes one look at me, rolls her eyes and says "Um, ew!" in a whisper that could be heard in New Zealand. I, being rather mature, rolled my eyes in my perfected Bratty Teenager technique and walked away.
A few classes later, it was lunchtime. Usually at lunch, I go with my friends to the uber-exclusive and oh-so-chichi... NERDY BOOK CLUB IN THE ENGLISH ROOM WITH OUR HIPPIE TEACHER!! YAY!!! It's great.
Except today, Mr. English Teacher had somewhere to be, so we had to go to the cafeteria with the rest of the populace. And may I just say, Aiyaiyai! Elbow room is a myth!
Afterward in Study Lab, Kayla spent the time mostly complaining along with me and inadvertantly cheering me up. Mostly because -- and she'll kill me for this -- Her face is so funny! I was having a mad laughing fit at her facial expressions while she just stared at me going "What? What?"
Then Social Studies rolled around and Kayla and I had to do research for our report on Benedict Arnold. We ended up discussing my new nickname for Derrick -- Schkiggledeenyo (I'm always coming up with nicknames for people) -- And wondering how it was even possible that Benedict died from a goldfish disease. Seriously, does anyone know?
Math was a blur, and so was the last period of the day, Magazine. I'm pretty sure I got yelled at, and somewhere along the way I think I staged a silent protest in front of my locker and told my friend Nichole that I was never going to class, EVER. She made me go...
What's the worst day you've ever had? Go ahead, make me feel like a whiner.
Signing off,
Sweet but Insane
Today was just one of Those Days.
You know, one of Those Days that everyone always talks about but never really explains? Yeah. I get it now.
It usually starts with ominous foreshadowing the night before. As in, you're laying in bed trying to go to sleep when you suddenly remember you were supposed to stay after school in the Homework Room. But since you didn't, you now have an automatic write-up. Which only gives the insane Science teacher another reason to hate you. Yes, ol' Demented DeGlee will have a field day with this, even though you shouldn't have to stay after anyway since you're not even failing.
The next morning, do not be fooled by the fact that you are having a good hair day. This is only fate satisfying their sick sense of humor by lulling you into a false sense of security. After all, what can go wrong on a good hair day?
Hah. Cue humorless chuckle.
By the time you're on the bus, you're already about to explode in someone's face. Namely, your best friend Kayla's horrible boyfriend, Arnold. I swear, every other word out of that dickwad's mouth is not only completely irritating, stereotypical of a classic "Gimme your lunch money" bully, completely disgusting, profane, and sexist, but also So. Fucking. Loud.
And trust me, I'm not usually the type to swear. But Arnold, he brings out the "SHUT THE FUCK UP" in me.
Anyway, classes start out bad and get worse. Science is first up to bat, and if that's not bad enough, Demented DeGlee appears to be as pissed off as me. Like, when I don't have a paper (I skipped bringing my binder ONE DAY, and what do I get?) she starts screaming "YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BRING A PAPER AND A PENCIL EVERYDAY" She might as well have topped it off with a good "OR I'LL RIP YOUR FUCKING ORGANS OUT". Then she stomps over to my desk, at which I am scrunched up in with my head between my arms, crying because I that's what I do when I get mad (Don't ask me why), and SLAMS down a paper in front of me, then starts obsessively clicking through the slides so there is absolutely no way I can copy the notes down.
After Science is Art. Which would be great, if our teacher knew what the hell she was talking about. I mean, I can draw better than her. 'Nuff said.
Between classes, I was walking out of the bathroom, when who should be on the other side of the door than... HANNAH THE BITCH FROM HELL! I will not even go into what she did to Kayla last year. But she takes one look at me, rolls her eyes and says "Um, ew!" in a whisper that could be heard in New Zealand. I, being rather mature, rolled my eyes in my perfected Bratty Teenager technique and walked away.
A few classes later, it was lunchtime. Usually at lunch, I go with my friends to the uber-exclusive and oh-so-chichi... NERDY BOOK CLUB IN THE ENGLISH ROOM WITH OUR HIPPIE TEACHER!! YAY!!! It's great.
Except today, Mr. English Teacher had somewhere to be, so we had to go to the cafeteria with the rest of the populace. And may I just say, Aiyaiyai! Elbow room is a myth!
Afterward in Study Lab, Kayla spent the time mostly complaining along with me and inadvertantly cheering me up. Mostly because -- and she'll kill me for this -- Her face is so funny! I was having a mad laughing fit at her facial expressions while she just stared at me going "What? What?"
Then Social Studies rolled around and Kayla and I had to do research for our report on Benedict Arnold. We ended up discussing my new nickname for Derrick -- Schkiggledeenyo (I'm always coming up with nicknames for people) -- And wondering how it was even possible that Benedict died from a goldfish disease. Seriously, does anyone know?
Math was a blur, and so was the last period of the day, Magazine. I'm pretty sure I got yelled at, and somewhere along the way I think I staged a silent protest in front of my locker and told my friend Nichole that I was never going to class, EVER. She made me go...
What's the worst day you've ever had? Go ahead, make me feel like a whiner.
Signing off,
Sweet but Insane
Sunday, February 20, 2011
RAVE: Darn True Love Always Getting in the Way of Everything!
Well Hi there Sunshine!
Love makes for good theatre. And so does death. Know what makes for a good book? Good theatre. And a love triangle.
So a good book has a love triangle and one team has to die. Or there at least has to be some love lost. Examples? Five out my Top Six Serieses.
Let's start with the most obvious: Twilight. The whole Edward/Bella/Jacob thing was insane. Yet Stephenie Meyer managed to end it in a way that made everyone... relatively contented. Mostly. I think, I'm not a super-obsessive Twihard. But, the whole happy ending, this is the main reason Twilight is number six on my list. Let's face it-- Happily Ever After is sooo last season.
Now The Gemma Doyle Trilogy, THAT'S an entirely different matter. In Rebel Angels there was a small triangle with Kartik/Gemma vs. Simon/Gemma. I myself was rather disenchanted with Simon when he tried to, ah, compromise Gemma's virtue -- or something like that. Although everyone seems to have forgotten about that in The Sweet Far Thing. Seriously. Does anyone else remember that fuzzy scene with the bed after Gemma drank the absinthe? How unchaste, Simon. I'm shaking my head in disappointment like an annoying mom who always knows best.
Anyway, Simon ended up marrying that other girl, Lucy Fairchild and Kartik and Gemma made out a lot, but did they get a happy ending? No. Of course not. Instead, Kartik turned into a tree that eats souls.
The same rules apply to the incredible, indescribable Maximum Ride. I mean, Fax vs. Mylan was a no-brainer -- Or so I thought, until ANGEL came out :'( -- but do you remember the panicked frenzy everyone went into when they heard Fang might die? That was PSYCHOTIC. James Patterson was getting veiled death threats! Then, at the end of FANG, when he left Max,
THE.
WORLD.
CRIED.
It was awesome.
However, on a completely different note, Mockingjay, the third and final book in The Hunger Games Trilogy, was somewhat disappointing. I mean, it was awesome, but the whole Peeta-or-Gale thing. Katniss chose Peeta 'cause Gale got a fancy job in some other District and he was maybe possibly partly responsible for the idea that killed Prim (I think. I'm a bit hazy on the details. But hey! Here's a song that reminds me of Gale: "Wretches and Kings" by Linkin Park). Love me or hate me for this, but I think Gale should've been made unavailable by non-romantic means. Like... death. And keep in mind that I'm only talking about the romantic part when I say it was just too anticlimactic.
Love makes for good theatre. And so does death. Know what makes for a good book? Good theatre. And a love triangle.
So a good book has a love triangle and one team has to die. Or there at least has to be some love lost. Examples? Five out my Top Six Serieses.
Anyway, Simon ended up marrying that other girl, Lucy Fairchild and Kartik and Gemma made out a lot, but did they get a happy ending? No. Of course not. Instead, Kartik turned into a tree that eats souls.
THE.
WORLD.
CRIED.
It was awesome.
However, on a completely different note, Mockingjay, the third and final book in The Hunger Games Trilogy, was somewhat disappointing. I mean, it was awesome, but the whole Peeta-or-Gale thing. Katniss chose Peeta 'cause Gale got a fancy job in some other District and he was maybe possibly partly responsible for the idea that killed Prim (I think. I'm a bit hazy on the details. But hey! Here's a song that reminds me of Gale: "Wretches and Kings" by Linkin Park). Love me or hate me for this, but I think Gale should've been made unavailable by non-romantic means. Like... death. And keep in mind that I'm only talking about the romantic part when I say it was just too anticlimactic.Overall, love triangles seem to be a good thing. Unless of course your team loses, which has only happened to me -- twice? In the novel Eyes like Stars, I was for Team Nate, but he got kidnapped as a sacrifice to the Sea Goddess. And Bertie fell for that psycho air spirit, Ariel, the VILLAIN of the story! WTH?
And the heartbreaker: My losing battle in the fight to save Faxness.
Anyway. Love Triangles: Your thoughts?
Signing off,
Sweet but Insane
REVIEW: ANGEL, A Maximum Ride Novel
There is really no better expression than pure, wordless, vocal franticness that can explain what I am thinking right now.
Here's what's going on:
1) I'm shaking.
2) I think I might hurl.
3) I'm beginning to resent emotion.
4) "Electrified" doesn't cover it. This is more like... A bursting nova of raw energy. IN MY BRAIN.
Did I just get struck by lightning?
Sure feels like it.
But no. This is much more urgent...
I finished reading ANGEL: The seventh installment in the epic Maximum Ride series.
WARNING: MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS!
Now, we all know I'm pretty good with words, but I am really at a loss on what to say. Seriously.
...Well, other than "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH--" But that could go on for days. So I'll just describe my reaction using emoticons! Just imagine them accompanied by a chipper little ding! like on Meebo. Here goes nothin':
=O
=O
=O
=O
=O
=O
=O
Screw it. Maybe that wasn't such a good idea. Ooh, here's some words for it:
HOLY. FREAKIN'. CRAP.
There. That about sums it up. Isn't my vocabulary wonderful?
I'll tell ya what's wonderful. That Holden Squibb guy, charging at that Mark guy, screaming his battle cry: "I AM STARFISHHH!!!"
So going in my quotes book.
Know what's NOT so wonderful? The... the... God, it kills me just to say it! The (Possible) END of FAXNESS! My antidrug! How can they do this to me?! I'm still clinging on to one last tattered shred of hope, but is it a lost cause? Whenever I think about it, I get all worked up.
And then I think of Holden...
...And I lulz.
Meanwhile, on a completely different note, you should've seen my psychobilly freakout (There's one for yer vocab) when Iggy got brainsucked. And when I thought he was dead. And when I thought Jeb died, for that matter. Not to mention Angel... But it turns out none of got dead at all! Jeb's just... evil, and Angel's just... held in captivity by the Doomsday Group. Being experimented on. Possibly turning evil. Again.
Speaking of which, where DID Dr. M and Jeb wander off to? Crazy brainsuckers. Sorta reminds me of their mysterious disappearane is Phoenix Fanatic's "Diary of a Lovesick Mutant". Except something tells me they won't be engaged when they show up again. Although it would be a huge improvement if the world had as many sex, bacon, and Harry Potter references as Phoenix Fanatic.
While we're on the topic of fanfiction (At least, I hope we're on the same page here. I really have no idea if you've even heard of fanfiction, reader.), did anyone else notice the eerie similiarities between the Comic-Con scene and St. Fang of Boredom's "MangaFlock"? If I didn't know better, I'd say Mister P. has been prowling the archives of Maximum Ride fanfiction. Although I swoon like a giddy schoolgirl at the thought of him even glancing at "Winging It", I really hope he didn't see the A/N where I damn him to Hell.
And now I have this crazy fantasy where he reads the measly 16 collective chappies I have posted and is so impressed that he immediately drops me an email and we collab on the horror novel of the decade which wins a crapload of awards and gets me landed on Planet Instant Stardom and I end up on Oprah and people make movies about my life.
Hey, a girl can dream, right?
Signing off,
Sweet But Insane
A Song That Reminds Me Of ANGEL: "How Far We've Come" by Matchbox 20.
A Song That Reminds Me Of ANGEL: "How Far We've Come" by Matchbox 20.
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