The Joy of Reading (Good Books)

My sister laughs at me when I say this but...my favorite feeling is after I've read a good book. After reading those last magic words, I sigh, giggle joyfully and contemplate the beauty of such a wonderful and lovely book. I usually go back and read my favorite parts, those parts where you felt a little tingle travel up and down your spine, making your heart beat faster and your imagination to light up with the words on the page.

I am not really doing adequate justice to such a feeling or such books, because for those who know, it is a wonderful and lovely feeling. You've been somewhere else for hours, somewhere enchanting and different. When you wake up from the story, you are still drunk on those magic words. It's enough to make you go into a hermetic lifestyle just to read.

Those of you who have never felt this, those who feel that I am coming it a little strong, you have absolutely no idea what you are missing. There are worlds and people and emotions that you can experience just by cracking open a book. Books take you places and introduce you to people. And as long as there is a satisfying ending, well-chosen words, and a gripping story, I love to read.

Ouch...

Right now I'm in the process of figuring out the basis of my short story...it's difficult but I think I'm onto a good thing.

In other news, it rained today! I love the rain :D.

Sigh...I am really, really sorry. I am so tired I can hardly form a coherent though. Nothing interesting comes to mind and I have absolutely no anecdotes or wise words to impart. My brain hurts, my elbows hurt, my fingers hurt. I am one big ball of pathetic hurtingness and my yawns are splitting my head in half. Oh woe is me...

Tomorrow will be a better day. I shall write part 1 of my story, and please deal with me honestly. Criticism is not wanted, but it is needed. I shall nurse my bruised ego in private, make the changes, and bite the bullet (I've always wanted to say that and I've never had a chance!)

Anyways, I'm going to have soak in a hot bath to bruise my aching feet and brain. Don't judge me, I think I'm coming down with a cold...

I Need Feeback!

So...

I'm kinda stuck for ideas of what to tell you about today. No little bits of wisdom, funny stories(embarrasing more like), or crazy ideas come to mind.

However, the lovely Maria, my sister, suggested I write short stories on my blog, for practice. Tell me what you think. Unless the idea is absolutely repulsive to you, I think I might try my hand at some light fiction.

Oh and a few ideas wouldn't be remiss either. I'm kinda stuck on ideas right now. Writers block...sigh.

Parentheses and Me

Parentheses and I have a problem, or rather I have a problem with parentheses. I shall now make a resolution not to use parentheses on this post, but only on this post for if I cut them from every post I am afraid my soul couldn't bear the strain. If I slip up and one sneaks in I give you permission to slam me in the comments.

Today I had piano. I was afraid. I felt as though I was going to vomit.

The reason for my strange stomach movements and my nonsensical fear was the fact that I hadn't practiced more than twice this week and I was ridiculously unprepared. Realistically, there was little grounds for such fear. But stomachs don't deal in reality. Despite the fact that my lovely music teacher wouldn't hurt a fly OR skin me alive, I felt myself sweating as I entered her apartment. I had my lesson, and about halfway through I found myself laughing at that earlier fear...fear always seems funny when you look back at it.

Anyways, piano is over, I wasn't skinned alive and I'm not afraid anymore...until my next lesson, when I think I really will vomit.

p.s.-Don't get me wrong, I love piano. However, Its terrifying when you haven't practiced and you are totally unprepared. Learn from my mistakes and BE PREPARED!!!! (Hoodwinked reference! (oops))

My Fatheadedness and Swollen, Bloody Noses

I am a fathead. Although I am a fathead, I am the only person who is aloud to call me a fathead. If anybody else did, you would get a punch in the nose, though you would be speaking the truth. You held firmly to the truth, and for your pains you would have a swollen, bloody nose. You might have guessed I don't enjoy people telling me the truth about me. I much prefer being told sweetly flattering lies, and living my life in blissful ignorance.

And now I am woefully off course. To yank myself back to the pleasant topic of my fatheadedness, I shall relate to you a true story, about a spacey, forgetful girl (me), who's only wish in life was to arrive on time for her piano lesson but who instead go horribly muddled.

Every Wednesday I have a piano lesson at 2:30, and I am usually driven by one of my devoted, doting, darling parents. Today, however, was DIFFERENT. Today, I took the bus or rather, I tried to take the bus. I set out from my house in good time to catch the train from Dalhousie Station, getting off at Brentwood where I was supposed to catch the 20 Heritage bus.

As I stepped off the train, I glanced at my watch and realized with apprehension that I was rather behind schedule (due to the fact that trains don't always arrive on time). This apprehension sent a signal to my legs, and they responded with a half-hearted gallop.

Coming into view of the Bus Stops below me, my half-hearted gallop turned into a whole-hearted sprint as I watched the 20 prepare to leave. In a last humongous effort, I charged down the stairs, onto the bus, and collapsed on my seat. Upon my triumph, I quickly proceeded to pull out my book, falling into a reverie. I was shaken out of my reverie, by the realization that I had ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA WHERE THE BUS WAS TAKING ME! In short, I was on the wrong bus.

As this realization coursed through my soul and proceeded to burn and turn to ash any self-respect I had up till now held for myself, I just sat there, stunned. What the jumping jehovah witnesses was I going to do!? A quick glance at my watch told me there was absolutely no hope of getting to my lesson on time, and as I had no idea where I was I decided on my course of action. I waited...and waited...and waited...

Until at long last the bus swept into Brentwood Station and I was able to take my burning cheeks and ashes home.

To be met by the indignation of my family at my stupidity. All of which I richly deserve.

Oh, and I just want to make one point clear. Yes, I take the bus quite often, and yes, this is the first time I've ever taken the wrong bus before. I'm normally not that stupid (I hope).

Highlights, Embarrasing Stories, Favorite Authors, and Ignorant Worms

I'm not really in the mood to blog...however, I figure I owe it to you (unless you find me terribly annoying) to bring you the highlights of my day.

Today's Highlight: Today, I went to the library to do my work. I relish going to the library, but today I stayed much too long (probably due to the fact that I finished working in 1 hour, and I read for 2).

As I got ready to leave, I could spot several high-school age persons trying to look disinterested in my study area, and failing miserably. Leaving my desk, I proceeded to trip over the leg of my chair, drawing unwanted attention (and scorn) to myself and almost falling flat on my face in front of several cute boys. Although I was ready to die with the shame of it all, I think I carried off the situation quite well. I smirked (I think) and kept walking, as my face slowly turned red. Once I was out of sight I dissolved in laughter, much to the mystification of several elderly ladies, who must have thought I was mentally challenged (or high). Anyways, that was the high point of my day. Life is wonderful (or at least so I'm told).

Now that I've gotten that off my chest...I have absolutely no idea what to write about. My brain is exceedingly sluggish today (story of my life) and I am having difficulty even putting a full sentence together without making the most glaring of grammatical errors or the most shame-worthy spelling mistakes.

Oh, I know. Lets talk about books. I dearly love a good read. Some of my favorite authors (not that you're interested) are: Jane Austen, Eion Colfer, Pamela Aiden, Ngaio Marsh, Dorothy Sayers, Shakespeare (Duh), etc., etc., etc. The list goes on and on. I'm too lazy too finish it, and I'm sure you would be too bored to read it.

What about you, my long-suffering, but ever dear reader? Who are your favorite authors? Oh, and tell me a funny embarrassing story about yourself, please. It isn't fair that your should get to laugh at me. Everything should go by halves. I want to laugh too :D.

Sayonara, Arrivederci, Au Revoir, Goodbye, etc. (I do that just to show you how smart I am. Bow down to my superior intellect, you ignorant worms!) (just kidding, I know you're not really worms)

My Life So Far...(not really)

So...my life so far. I know what you're thinking, at least I know what I am thinking. "Really Beth, your doing a post about YOUR life? (shakes head) How narcissistic, not to mention boring! My friend, get a life (I would think that if I had any friends)". I mean really, what have I done (of importance) with my 15 years so far?...don't answer that.

No, I'm not going to regale you with my mind-numbingly boring life story A) because it is mind-numbingly boring, B) because parts of it are embarrassing to myself and C) I am (hopefully) not THAT narcissistic as to think you would care or give a damn. (although i do talk to myself)

Beth says (to herself) "Ahem! Then why do you have a blog?" Beth answers, "oh shut up".

OK. So, the point I'm trying to make is...a lot of people think that everybody else cares or gives a damn about their life story (people my age or a little older). So, these people my age go out, and shout their grievances to the world. And the awful truth is, society today encourages this. Seriously, facebook, twitter, myspace... a public diary where people air their thoughts, little remembering that everyone can see their public display. Its amazing how forgetful people are of the fact that what they put on the computer STAYS on the computer...and can go on to ruin their life.

The moral of the story is...something. I'm sure you can figure it out for yourself.

(oh and i haven't been putting up posts for such a long time because i'm lazy...aint it sad?)