Ever since I was seven I have maintained a healthy fear of wandering through an interdimensional portal.

Finals are over. Summer is upon us. Unfortunately that also means I have no more scholarship money – and with rent, a car, and a nasty addiction to McDonald’s coffee, this means I need a job.

Old people don’t get it. Back in their day, your town had like 20 people. And if you were on good terms with the carpenter, you had a job. Thus, they believe that you can indeed just “go out ‘n’ get a job” within a day, just put on your fedora and grab a briefcase and you’d be employed by dinnertime.

Unfortunately, what with background checks and an economy that resembles Boromir in the last few minutes of Fellowship of the Ring, getting a job of any kind is a hassle.

Fifteen-year-old girls now have to compete for a job at the ice cream parlor with a 35-year-old grown man with a beard. Entry-level job openings disappear faster than a Snickers bar at a Weight Watchers meeting.

Also unfortunately, my current skill set is rather… lacking.

In any case, I dusted off the mock resume I made in Communications class and went looking. As I scrolled through endless pages of “Nurse Wanted, Experience in Exotic Dancing Preferred” and “ihop busboy wanted lol call me” I gave up and decided to make a list of all the careers I would be willing to accept.

1. Lion Tamer.

Because who wouldn’t want to be a lion tamer.

2. Book critic

It involves my two favorite things – books and criticizing people.

3. Mattress tester.

note: this is not me

SO MUCH FUN EVERYWHERE

4. Professional rainbow chaser

I would hunt down rainbows and then live off of the stolen leprechaun gold. I don't do it for the money. I do it for the thrill of the chase. And also the money. Shiny things.

At this point in my list I started to get a craving for McDonald's coffee and wandered off, but I thought I should share this with you. I hope you liked it.

One time we got a dog from a shelter and they told us she was a lab mix but it turned out she was a boxer/pit bull mix and so we gave her away to the Mexicans who fixed our roof.

This is it, guys.

The calm before the storm.

Standing at the line waiting for the starting gun to go off.

That moment when you've hit the putt-putt ball and it's hovering RIGHT at the edge of the hole and you're praying to God, Baby Jesus, Kali, Allah, Odin, Zeus, Apollo, and that Native American god that has clicks in his name that it'll go in so you can beat your brother for the first time ever at mini-golf.

That's right - It's The Week Before Finals Week.

That unholy time where all your professors assign next to nothing just to torture you further before the final exams. They enjoy watching all of their students, who have suddenly inherited a windfall of hallowed Free Time, wander around the halls having nothing to do but torment themselves imagining the hell about to befall them the following week.

Some of these poor students make the rookie mistake of premature studying. As every college student knows, the most effective way to study for exams is to wait until the night before, then furiously read every single one of the professor's online notes. (Also, if you're a professor who does this, we thank you from the bottom of our poor ramen-saturated overstressed hearts.) But when you decide to study simply out of an excess of spare time, you will fall into the following situation.

... You shut the book, yawning. It's 11:00 P.M., and you've finished all your studying for the World History test. You start to reach into your stock of 5-Hour Energies and Red Bulls, but then you remember: You don't need to stay up all night again! The test isn't for another week! You smile, turn off the lights, and go to sleep.

... It's the day before the exam. All the material is deeply ingrained within your mind. You know exactly what the War of 1812 was about: Canada, and trading, or something. It doesn't matter! You studied. And that's what matters, right? You shrug and go back to stalking Natalie Portman's Twitter feed.

... You're at the desk, staring at the exam. The Code of Hammurabi? Didn't that have something to do with samurai? Man, last night you got around to watching that ninja movie "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" or whatever it was called. You loved it. What? RIGHT, EXAM. Um. Well, we can skip that question. Next one: "What catalyzed World War I?" Catalyzed. Hehehehe. Cats. Cats are so crazy. When you were five, you went to the zoo and one of the tigers stood up and walked across the enclosure to the shady part and went back to sleep. That was so much fun. And remember that .gif you saw on Reddit that had the cat with mittens on its feet and they made him walk funny? WAIT STOP GIGGLING YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE TAKING A TEST. What's going on?! You studied! You studied so hard you knew EVERYTHING, and then you still had time left over to watch movies and browse Reddit and stalk Natalie Portman!

But it's too late now. By studying early, you let yourself fall into a false sense of security. As the information slowly drained out of your mind, you busied your brain with other, less exam-related things, dulling the sparkle of your intellect. By the time the exam rolls around, your escapades have occupied your mind for so long that the effects of your hard work have been entirely negated.

Also, don't be the guy who can't stop laughing in the middle of the exam. Even if the mitten-kitten .gif is REALLY funny.

In the end, there is a simple solution: Study at the last minute.

And stalk Natalie Portman now, not later.

I had the biggest creepiest crush on Harrison Ford for literally my entire childhood.

Couldn't think of a decent idea for a blog post today either, so here I'm just going to describe Taylor Swift songs and tell you everything wrong with them.


FIRST: "We Are Never Ever Ever Ever Ever Ever Ever Ever Getting Back Together"

Alternate Title: "I Got Drunk And Left You This Skype Message"

Analysis: This song genuinely sounds like something a clingy middle schooler would write. Say the lyrics with a slur and it sounds like something a clingy sorority girl would say after a night out on the town.

Example: Then... then you come around an' say *switches to comically deep voice* BAAABY I MISS YOU N I SWEARR I'M GONNA CHANGE. Remember... like how that lasted for A DAY, I say *high pitched squeal* I HATE YOU, we break up, you call meeee *deep voice* I LOOOVE YOU. You go talk to YOUR friends who, who talk to MY friends talk to ME, like, we are never ever ever ever, EVER EVER forever never not ever getting back together. *starts to cry* I was out in heels all night an' my feeeeet hurt. You gave like the best feet rubs. *dogs barking in the background* SHUT UP I'M TRYINA TAAAALK *throws shoe* *cries harder* YOU. And your... stupid INDIE record that's SO MUCH COOLER THAN MINE ohshitmybatterysabouttodie HEY I MISS YOU WE'RE NEVER GETTING BACK TOGE*static and muffled noise before voicemail cuts out*

My logic is flawless.

SECOND: "Love Story"

Alternate Title: "I Don't Understand How Shakespeare Works"

Analysis: Romeo and Juliet is not a happy story. It is a TRAGEDY. It is not the greatest romance ever. It was a three-day affair between a 13-year-old and a 17-year-old that ended in six deaths, one of whom was Mercutio WHO WAS BASICALLY THE DEAN WINCHESTER OF ELIZABETHAN LONDON. Where Romeo was a whiny, pathetic, smushy brat who couldn't stand up for ANYTHING, Mercutio was a wingman, a gentleman, a troublemaker, a scholar, and a swordsman. Juliet was a spoiled, disrespectful, childish attention whore. T-Squizzle glosses over these flaws in her glurge "song," including the fact that the story ends with mutual suicides and involves a crooked priest who performs faux-"marriages" for money.

EXAMPLE: "You'll be the prince and I'll be the princessssssss (false, neither the Montagues nor the Capulets were royalty) IT'S A LOVE STORY BABY JUST SAY YES (clearly he did, with behavior that I'm pretty sure is illegal in most states). ROMEO SAVE ME THEY'RE TRYING TO TELL ME HOW TO FEEEEEEEEEL (no, they're just trying to make you marry someone closer to your OWN AGE WHO HASN'T THREATENED TO KILL YOUR UNCLE) THIS LOVE IS DIFFICULT BUT IT'S REEEEEEEE-EEEEAL (you knew him for less than an hour and hadn't even seen his face when you stuck your tongue down his throat missy) DON'T BE AFRAID WE'LL MAKE IT OUTTA THIS (by faking your own death, breaking your parents' hearts, and sealing yourself in a tomb on the off chance that your little love pumpkin [who, by the way, is currently banished from the city for being involved in your cousin's murder] can show up in time to dig you out because this is clearly the most logical solution) IT'S A LOVE STORY BABY JUST SAY YEEEEEEEEEEEEES

Read the book, you guys. Romeo never made a big deal of "knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring" or anything. It was more "...Wanna do it?" "Yeah but we go to hell if we're not married first." "Ok let's go do that, I know a guy."

Jeez Juliet seriously

THIRD: "Teardrops on My Guitar"

Alternate Title: "I Keep Fur From Your Dead Cat And Take Pictures Of Your Elbows When You Aren't Looking"

Analysis: The first time I heard this song, I felt like I had to take a shower afterwards. Is this considered romantic? It sounded like an entry from a serial killer's diary. And then I go on LiveJournal and see all these little brats going "IT'S LIKE SHE WRITES SONGS ABOUT MY LYFE" and I lose all hope for humanity because obviously these girls aren't going to be able to handle all of this EMOTION and will soon snap and kill their entire families.

EXAMPLE: "Drew walks by me, can he tell that I can't breathe? (If this happens to you, see a doctor immediately.) So I drive home alone, as I turn out the light, I PUT HIS PICTURE DOWN AND MAYBE GET SOME SLEEP TONIGHT WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS THIS SAYING I MEAN PEOPLE WHO DON'T SLEEP GO INSANE AND TRY TO CHEW THEIR OWN SKIN OFF FOR FUCK'S SAKE I AM SO DONE WITH EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS.

i can't even
what
i just
everyone go home
im done

As a toddler I had this stuffed ladybug one of its legs fell off, so I replaced it with a safety pin and pretended it was a pirate ladybug with a peg leg.

DRAGONS.

I bring them up in random conversation.

I have one next to my bed (a stuffed one [he's a pterodactyl {thanks Becki}]).

I forget I'm taking an exam and will draw a dragon in the corner and (THREE TIMES NOW) get accidental bonus points for it.

WHY am I such a fan of dragons?

Let me count the ways.

1-3: They are huge. And majestic. And you can RIDE on them.

4: FIRE.

5: Okay, Skyrim isn't on the list as a REASON why I love dragons, but it certainly contributes. Also, why don't more people pick Cicero as a companion? He dances.

6. Charizard, man. Just... CHARIZARD.

7. BABY DRAGONS ARE THE CUTEST DAMN THINGS EVER. Like, they have so many body parts that they're the most uncoordinated animals in the universe.

8. They were in Harry Potter.

9. One word: DRAGONHIDE.

10. Well, there really doesn't need to be a 10, does there? Dragons are cool, like bow ties and bananas and bunkbeds and fezzes.

Here is a cat.

I was a baby who cried because I was tired but didn't want to go to sleep.

...And my parents brainwashed me to fix that, but that's a story for another day. (Or you can ask Ryan about my "off" button.)

So I finished another book today, it's called "The Voice" and it's about as stereotypically teen-novel-ish as you can possibly get. And yet somehow I kept reading it even thought there wasn't even ONE MENTION of dragons and only MINIMAL amounts of magic. Cray.

Basic premise of the book is there's this girl, I can't remember her name so let's call her Chairy. So Chairy has this creepy uncle, and one day he kidnaps her and locks her in a cabin for a few months or something. During this time, Chairy starts hearing A VOICE. In her head.

WHOA.

It's a nice voice though, it talks to her and makes friends with her and eventually it actually helps her get rescued. But of course (this is a teen novel after all, and the protagonist must be as TORMENTED AS POSSIBLE) Chairy is traumatized and tries to kill herself like five times or something.

So her mom got scared and said "That's it, you're moving in with your aunt in Bel Air" except it wasn't Bel Air it was some shithole like California or Scandinavia or wherever it is blonde people come from. So Chairy moves in with her aunt and meets her new neighbors: twin brothers (HOT BROTHERS OF COURSE) who look nothing alike for some reason. One of them is really nice and friendly, and the other one's like the biggest emo bitch in the universe and never talks to anybody. I like the emo one. He acts like young Snape.

So a lot of teenage drama goes down cause Chairy has to start at a new school and her creepy uncle keeps calling her to try and make her change her testimony in court or whatever and SPOILER ALERT remember that deeply mysterious VOICE that kept talking to her when she was kidnapped? THE OWNER OF THE TELEPATHIC VOICE IS CLOSER THAN ANYONE GUESSES except for anyone who read the first three chapters because let's face it, suspense is not the author's strong point.

FINAL VERDICT

It's not my usual genre obviously, I like things where people die by swords and wear clothes made out of metal and ride horses and shit like that. HOWEVER I did not hate this book, I found it to be thoroughly average. It earned a few bonus points for throwing in a young Snape, but the lack of any real plot twists annoyed me. Points earned for having multiple non-graphic rape/suicide references. Points lost for the cliché "twin brothers love interest" act.

And... that's about it. I promise there'll be more interesting shenanigans later this week.

If you're too lazy to read my expertly crafted review, here's a drawing I made summarizing the entire book.

Oh MS Paint, how I love you.

When I was like six my brother hit me in the face with a baseball bat and broke my nose and there was blood everywhere.

So a multitude of bad things happened today.

However if you read this blog it likely means you already know.

For the next few days until I figure out what to do I will post ridiculous stories (all true) in the hopes of not turning this into a twelve-year-old's LiveJournal.

Let's begin with the story summarized in the title.

So from the time I was 4 to 9 I lived in a really rural part of Georgia, my family had this farmhouse with a ton of land and a lake and woods and you couldn't even see our nearest neighbor except just barely in the winter when the leaves were gone. My brother and I were homeschooled so we really didn't have anybody to play with besides each other.

Anyway, so one day we were outside and I'm just wandering around in our gravel driveway and Nick is throwing bits of gravel up and hitting them with an aluminum bat. For some reason I end up walking behind him while he was swinging - in my defense I thought I was short enough that it would miss me, I was like a REALLY SHORT child - and all I really remember is feeling like a train hit me in the face.

So I had to have all this major surgery and wear a cast and everything while my nose healed up. However it wasn't nearly as bad as it sounds. The cast wasn't like what you see in bad movies or whatever where it's this Phantom of the Opera mask-thing that covers everything but your eyes, it was just this thing that was like the size of those nose strips you put on your face to keep you from snoring at night. And since I was only like SIX the bones bounced right back into place and kept growing the way they should so I don't have some weird crooked bird-face nose like Dumbledore or anything.

Oh Dumbledore.

Before I depress us all, here is a short comic that sums up my feelings for today in a cute and amusing way. Enjoy.

Source: butthorn.tumblr.com

On my seventh birthday we had this huge ice storm that shut down all our power and my mom ended up making my cake in an EZ-Bake Oven. Best birthday ever.

Short post tonight because I'm tired and feeling uninspired after wasting my entire day looking at baby wallaby .gifs.

BRIEF THOUGHTS

- There should be a game called "Infomercial" in which you see someone performing some menial task and you shout "INFOMERCIAL!" The person must then fail at their task in a hilarious and melodramatic fashion, and then cry "There's got to be a better way!" Observe.
Me: *putting pencils in a mug*
You: INFOMERCIAL!
Me: *proceeds to fumble with one pencil and then dumps the entire mug onto the floor*
Both of us: THERE'S JUST GOT TO BE A BETTER WAY.
(I then proceed to make you clean up all the pencils because it is your fault after all.)

- I tried watching Fullmetal Alchemist the other day and I am severely unimpressed.

- Mother bought strawberries for a cake or something and seems to have forgotten that I am HIGHLY ADDICTED TO any kind of berry whatsoever. Seriously. Strawberries, blueberries, blackberries, cranberries, raspberries, lingonberries, I will eat any of them. I am exercising all of my self-control to not devour every single delicious berry. You should all be proud of me.

- I have a pink splotch on my shirt and I don't know where it came from and it looks like blood. Please send help.

- I desire a baby wallaby.

- I have a dog and his name is Jack and he is sleeping on my bed and TAKING UP ALL THE SPACE I MEAN HE'S A SCHNAUZER THEY'RE LIKE TWENTY POUNDS HOW IS HE DOING THIS

- I found a Popsicle in my freezer today and it had been there for so long it had practically fossilized into the wrapper. It was skinnier than my finger and there was LITERALLY NO JUICE in it at all. I felt so bad for it I couldn't even eat it. (Also it was like, disgusting.) So instead I sacrificed it to the Kitchen Gods. Fine, I dumped it in the sink. It was gross.

- I had a dream that a giant spider came out from under my couch and chased me around the house while I was screaming for help and my family was just like "lindsey calm down there is nothing chasing u lol, u so funny" and this HUGE ASS BLACK WIDOW SPIDER THE SIZE OF A COLLIE was bashing my door in until I hid in the bathroom and tried to spray it with the shower head. It was traumatic.

- SCIENCE. If you're too lazy to click on the link I'll go ahead and sum it up. *takes deep breath* So there was this frog that went extinct back in the 80s and it was a really cool frog where the mommy would eat her babies and they would actually grow up IN HER STOMACH and then she'd just puke them all up and send them to school and such and right before they went extinct some scientists froze a couple of them and RECENTLY they took some other eggs from this other species of frog that's kind of related and *pant pant pant pant* then they erased those eggs' DNA and put the extinct frog's DNA in it and THEY GREW EMBRYOS OF THIS EXTINCT SPECIES and yeah okay the embryos died later but THEY MADE THEM HAPPEN ANYWAYican'tbreatheohgodhelp

- Since I began writing this blog post I have eaten three strawberries. I AM POWERLESS AGAINST THEIR BERRY CHARMS.

- In the end I spent most of my weekend watching Netflix and looking at things on the Internet that I greatly desire but will never have enough money for.

NOW TELL ME ABOUT YOUR WEEKEND.

When I was like three I told everyone I was Scottish, I had an accent and everything, to this day my parents don't know how I figured out what Scottish meant.

So if you've seen me in the past couple of days you will know one major fact about my life: I am sick.

Now when I get sick, I don't get sick like normal people. I turn into a total baby and, what's worse, I don't even mean to. Now since I still live at home, like a good little 19-year-old unemployed college student, my mom is the first person to notice the warning signs, which include the following:

- I sleep, like, A LOT.

- I develop an obsession with apples. Seriously, I crave apple juice any time I'm sick. I have no idea why. I went through a 1/3 gallon jar of applesauce TODAY ALONE.

- The only music I will listen to is Bon Iver and/or Iron & Wine. I'm not quite sure why this is either.

- No matter what plague afflicts me, it will invariably manifest in a sore throat. I get sore throats like most people get dandruff: frequently, inconveniently, and often for no discernible reason.

Yesterday while running a fever of around 103, I got the bright idea to plug my symptoms into WebMD and these are my top five results:

- Ectopic pregnancy

- Throat cancer

- Meningitis (viral/bacterial)

- Tuberculosis

- A common cold

Now, a normal person would think, Oh, I bet I have a cold, and go about their business. BUT NOT ME. Instead, I spend the next four hours Googling meningitis symptoms, tilting my head back and forth, and panicking about how "stiff" my neck has to be before I have to go to the hospital and probably die there.

Don't get me wrong; being sick has some perks. For instance, as this sudden affliction came upon me LITERALLY ON THE FIRST DAY OF SPRING BREAK and I had nothing better to do while laying in misery on my couch, I realized that I suddenly had a golden opportunity. THE OPPORTUNITY OF NETFLIX.

I ran through the lists of TV shows and/or movies that all my friends keep begging me to watch, and decided upon Avatar: The Last Airbender, because I'm a friggin' adult people and I can watch a kid show if I want.

Or anyway, that was my ORIGINAL thinking. Then I actually started watching and my life will never be the same.

Here, a week later, I'm looking up Appa stuffed animals on Amazon.com and covering my sparse Pinterest boards with every single Avatar-themed thing I can find. If you don't know me all that well, I'll let you in on a secret: I obsess over things. When Ryan made me start watching Supernatural, I watched about four seasons in a day and then ended up sucking my brother into it as well and now we're one big demon-hunting-brothers-obsessed team. When I found Firefly on Netflix I didn't leave the house for a solid month. (Only a week of that was spent actually watching the show, the remaining weeks were spent weeping and praying to all Norse, Hindu, and pagan gods that Joss Whedon would continue the series.)

Anyway, so I was halfway done with Season 3 of Avatar when I decided to scroll ahead and see how many seasons were left when suddenly WHAT THE SHITTING HELL THERE'S ONLY THREE SEASONS WHY DIDN'T ANYONE TELL ME.

So here I am, sobbing on my couch like a child because THERE ARE ONLY LIKE FIVE EPISODES LEFT EVER and what am I supposed to do after it's over. Have you ever had a book hangover? Where you finish a really good book/series and suddenly you have trouble readjusting to reality? I get those bad. After finishing Harry Potter I just sat in silence in my room for like two months just staring at the walls and whimpering. My parents would say something like "Do your homework, you're seventeen years old for fuck's sake" and I would just reply with "YOU KNOW WHO DOESN'T HAVE TO DO HOMEWORK ANYMORE, FRED WEASLEY BECAUSE HE'S DEAD" and then results would usually split between A) dissolving into tears, or B) veering off into a monologue on why I'm convinced that Sirius and Remus used to be More Than Friends back in the day

Anyway. My point is, I still haven't even started the final episode of Avatar even though I've been there for like two days now because I'm worried about what THIS hangover is going to be like. I have been assured by my Legend Of Korra-watching pals that the ending is perfectly A-OK, but part of me is still suspicious that they're lying and I'll have another Mockingjay moment where I wonder if I'm suddenly hallucinating and maybe this is all some horrifying dream because WHY DO ALL THE GOOD CHARACTERS DIEsorry sorry I'm staying on track.

I'M LOOKING AT YOU PRINCE ZUKO.

So that's where I am in life at the moment. Running a 101 degree fever, mostly unable to talk, and completely and utterly out of damn apple juice. Frick.

When I was little I used to tell everyone I wanted to marry a horse.

Trying something new. Instead of genuine titles, I shall replace them with amusing childhood stories.

NOW TO BUSINESS AND SUCH

So I read a book today. Actually I finished one that I've been reading for a long time, even though it's only like 300-something pages. It is called "The Gifted" by Anna Kathryn Davis and it is terrifically bad. Let me tell you why.

Just to warn you, there will be SPOILERS, because I'm pretty sure the only people who read this blog are my mom and the gnat that lives in my room whom I have named Tony. He reads over my shoulder.

The basic plot and most of the story world is fairly well-crafted. Basically, humanity is being taken over by these bug things from another dimension. There's a fancy Greek word for them that I can't remember, so let's call them Un-Dragons.

Then there's this... girl.

Okay so have you ever read a book and just thrown it down in anger because the characters had no flaws and were absolutely perfect in every conceivable way? *coughTWILIGHTcough*

Well... this girl is about eleventy-twelve times worse.

Her name is Rose and she has a superpower. Her superpower is PRETTY. She's the prettiest damn prettyfier that ever prettied a pretty. She can't walk around in public because her PRETTY FUCKING FACE causes riots everywhere she goes, so instead, she lives all by herself in the woods.

Oh right and she has this giant-ass tiger as a PET because she was bored in a zoo and decided she wanted a tiger, and keeping wild animals as pets is a GREAT message to be sending.

So anyway this boy shows up and man is he WEIRD, first of all he doesn't go apeshit over how stinkin' pretty she is so he must be like a total tool. Long story short he tells Pretty McSexyface Rose that she's magical and OMG so is he, and they're mean to stop the infestation by the Un-Dragons.

Rose, being the tough little scrapper that she is and ALSO without putting a single silky flawless hair out of place, fights this new guy. (His name is Parker but I call him Captain Thunder.) SHOCKINGLY, Rose wins, even though she has absolutely no training whatsoever and she just kind of "taught herself." Who the fuck wins their first fight like that? Has she been fighting her pet tiger? Whatever.

So long story short Rose meets these three other magic kids (they're called The Gifted in case you wanted to know why the title was the title), this one girl is super mean to her but Rose just laughs at her because she's just such a NICE PERSON and FORGIVING and PRETTY and not a total asshat at all.

Longer story short... the super mean girl is really nice on the inside, but someone just had to break through her tough shell to get the squishy sweetness inside.

Man I miss Twinkies.

Anyway, the Un-Dragons are almost done taking over the world, and they cotton on to these magic kids and one of the bugs (inside a human host, cause they can do that through a process that is actually quite cool) ends up killing the pet tiger. Noooooooooooo.

Then there's this secret cult of people living underground in the desert who knew about these Gifted kids through... like a prophecy? Or the zodiac, I think, cause everyone keeps calling Rose a "Cancer" and I doubt it's because of her slow, methodical process of ruining my respect for this book. This cult basically knows everything there is to know about the Un-Dragons and even has this one guy who has an Un-Dragon INSIDE HIS MIND but it doesn't take control of him because, um, he concentrates really well.

I should probably mention that Rose and Captain Thunder are slowly (not slowly at all, it kind of happened in the space of four pages) falling in love because their zodiac signs correspond super well or something. Sorry. There's a reason why I don't read romance novels.

So through this cult, Rosey and Friends discover that the reason they all have superpowers is because they all have Un-Dragon BLOOD in them, HOLY CRAP THEY'RE BARELY EVEN HUMAN AUGH etc. etc., and BIG SHOCK Rose is the one with the most Un-Dragon DNA and THAT'S why she's so much more powerful than like EVERYONE in the universe. Also she is special and pretty and tough and has next to no personality whatsoever.

So the cult is like "hey y'all we're gonna stage an attack at this major Un-Dragon headquarters which also happens to be a swanky hotel and coincidentally they're having a ball on the night of the attack and we need someone on the inside" and HOLY CRAP AGAIN they pick Rose, who has to suffer through sitting in a VIP suite for days and yet somehow manages to hold herself together enough to get in a DRESS for this ball tomorrow. Damn that girl is a trooper. She inspires us all.

Anyway, the night of the ball comes around and the cult people attack the Un-Dragons, and it all ends quite abruptly and I think Rose died but I'm not really sure. At first I thought, well, maybe my copy was a misprint and they forgot to put in an extra two chapters or something, but then I saw the acknowledgments and it was all like "what" and then I might have thrown the book on the floor or something.

Now let me say first that I didn't NOT enjoy this book. I just sorely wished I could read it from the perspective of anyone but Rose. The premise was good and there were all these little details about the Un-Dragons like how they can rip their way out of human hosts and emerge as GIANT ARSE BUGS and such, and how two Un-Dragons in human bodies could conceivably... um... "knock boots" and make a weird mutant baby that is fully Un-Dragon and fully human. (There was a super long Greek name for that too, but I'm out of creative substitutes so it's just gonna be "weird mutant baby.")

All said and done, Miss Davis, replace your main character with someone a LITTLE BIT less intolerable and get back to us. Use Bella Swan. Nurse Ratchet. Charlize Theron. ANYBODY.

And yes, I did use to tell everyone I was marrying a horse. I WAS SIX YEARS OLD OKAY.

Mom-isms (Alternatively: "Shit My Mom Says.")

So I have this mom, right.

I couldn't think of a decent idea for a blog post so I just went through mine and my brother's Twitter feeds and collected all the stuff we'd quoted her on, and I'm just gonna share them with you. Here is the wisdom of Shannon L. Hames VI, esq.

~

"So the government and I were talking, and we both kind of came to this agreement that you should get a job."

~

"Some people can't go anywhere without dragging their damn Christmas spirit along with them."

~

"Stop chewing on the bottle and go throw it away. I MEAN PUT IT IN THE RECYCLE BIN LIKE AN
ENVIRONMENTALLY RESPONSIBLE PERSON."

~

-playing Scrabble online in the other room-
"OH COME ON. How come 'poot' isn't a word?!"

~

Her: "See, most church moms name their kids after Bible characters or saints or shit like that. I named mine after rock stars who should've been dead ten years ago and are somehow still alive."
Me: "Cool! Who was I named after?"
Her: "Oh, your dad named you."

~

-in response to the Muppets dropping their partnership with Chick-Fil-A over marriage controversy-
"See now that's what I'm saying. When THE MUPPETS hate you, you're an asshole."

~

"Go bring me some Taco Bell."
"Mom! What if I get kidnapped and raped on my way back?"
"Don't be ridiculous, it's Sunday, nobody rapes on Sunday."

~

"Whenever I finish a pack of gum, it feels like a chapter of my life has ended."
"That's weird."
"Yeah."

~

"Go get the Elton John out of the kitchen."
"...what?"
"I MEAN THE BEANBAG."

~

"Justin Bieber would make the hottest lesbian I've ever seen."

~

Me: "What are we doing for dinner?"
Her: "Chops."
Me: "...What kind of chops?"
Her: "Who cares? Lamb chops, pork chops, mutton chops, they're all the same thing."

~

"We should send cookies. Anonymously."
"Lindsey, who is going to eat anonymous cookies?"
"WELL I WOULD."

~


so yeah thats mom
- Lindsey

Why I Hate Kindles (And Other Assorted Reading Devices).

As you probably guessed from the title, I don't like Kindles. I do not like Nooks, eReaders, or ebooks. Why? I mean, they're cool inventions. You can take them anywhere, almost like a book! Except of course a print copy of, say, The Hunger Games is much, much less likely to get stolen on a subway than an iPad. Oh, and reading in the bathtub? Thanks to that Kindle, no more wet pages! Instead, your finger slips and suddenly your $70 chunk of emotionless plastic quite literally just went down the drain.

"But an ebook is so much cheaper!" you say. True, that's all very well and good. But see, there's these things called LIBRARIES that will let you read books FOR FREE HOLY SHIT DID YOU EVER HEAR OF SUCH A THING. On another note, authors are just one more type of starving artist. They put in a lot of energy and effort into writing (I would know), and all too often they just get overlooked. By purchasing an actual book at full price straight from the publisher, you know that money's going to the creator. It's the same principle of illegally downloading music vs. buying it. Sure, you can take the cheap route, but it isn't benefiting anyone.

Here is a picture of a baby dragon because I felt guilty for ranting.

(source: i google imaged baby dragons)

So... This Is Blogging, Huh

My name is Lindsey.

So I'm starting a blog.

I probably shouldn't.

I mean, who cares about one more misanthropic teenage girl blogging about nothing in particular?

BUT WAIT

I shall make you a pledge, O people of the Blogosphere.

I PLEDGE to not shamelessly plug my fledgling photography business (I don't even have one. I don't even like taking pictures of anything).

I PLEDGE that I will never Instagram my food and make that my daily post.

I PLEDGE that I will post only minimal pictures of my pet, because he is friggin' adorable, that's why.

I PLEDGE not to drag my personal life into the blog unless it makes a funny story or there is photographic evidence.

I PLEDGE not to gush about my boyfriend (or girlfriend if I find myself in an experimental college phase).

I PLEDGE that I will never link you to a Taylor Swift song because "dis iz how i feelz @ dis momentt!!1!!" If anything I will link you to that one Opeth song I can't stop listening to in hopes that the I-Will-Get-Every-Song-You-Hear-Stuck-In-Your-Head demon will be exorcised from my brain along with it.

I PLEDGE that I will not shamelessly plug anything unless it's super funny, something I desperately want my parents to buy me, or the people I'm plugging are giving me tons of free shit to do so.

I PLEDGE that I will not drag my religion into anything. (But seriously. CONVERT TO THE HOLY CHURCH OF PEETA MELLARK.)

I PLEDGE that, while I may babble on endlessly about such a fandom as Doctor Who, Harry Potter, or Supernatural, I will also take care to not spoil anything to anyone who does not wish such things to be spoiled. EVEN IF I DID LOVE HAGRID AND HIS DEATH IN BOOK SIX WAS TRAGICALLY UNCALLED FOR AND WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE PERCY WEASLEY WHO SHOT HIM?! Ahem.

I PLEDGE that I will always run Spellcheck, even though I am a communications major and therefore feel like a professional biker who is forced to use training wheels.

I PLEDGE that I will most adoringly love and pet and reply to any and all comments that I see.

I PLEDGE to have the vocabulary of your average crab fisherman, so that my parents and preacher will be deterred from following me.

I CANNOT PLEDGE that anything I blog about is going to be interesting or relevant or even coherent. This is mostly just a place where I can rant into empty space without fear of judgment. Because seriously, this is the Internet - we're the least judgy people in the world. If you want to "like" One Direction's fan page, well, I'm sure you can hook up with some people who feel the same way. As long as you don't like Nickelback or the Phantom Menace, the Internet will accept you. (Psssst! Hey! Don't tell anybody but I really never understood why everyone hated the Phantom Menace. Baby Anakin was adorable.)

I PLEDGE that I will try my darndest to blog as much as possible. I'm an unemployed college student with far too much time on her hands, so this'll probably be easy, but I'm pledging it anyway. It needs to be pledged. Not the lemon kind. That's my dresser. My dresser needs to be lemon Pledged. We need more lemon Pledge.

I PLEDGE that there will not always be strange obscure references like "We need more lemon Pledge" in all my posts. Frequently yes, but not always.

I PLEDGE that I will not go on and on about my school. Yes I'm in college and yes it's a big deal to me but it's not a big deal to you so you guys don't care so I'll shut up about it. Unless something TOTALLY BITCHIN' happens, like someone gets shot in the parking deck. AGAIN.

That's pretty much it. See ya tomorrow.

Blessings of the Church of Peeta upon you. May your bread never burn.