Saturday, October 26, 2013

Reign Ep 2

Hello, common sense?

Other than that, I LOVE REIGN.

An Interview

1.  *Poof!* A genie appeared in front of you!  He can grant you three wishes- but they must all be wishes related to books! What three things would you wish for?
For me to finally finish the book I'm writing and get it published and lalala
For all the books I'd love to come into my house
For Marie Lu, Courtney Summers, Jandy Nelson and Gayle Forman to write a book together
2.  What book (s) do you wish more people knew about?  
The Sky is Everywhere by Jandy Nelson. That book is perfect.

Dash and Lily's Book of Dares. I love Dash so much. Dash and Lily make the perfect couple.

Some Girls Are by Courtney Summers.

Anything by Victoria Schwab.3.  Favorite authors and favorite books from said authors?

I love Courtney Summers, Jandy Nelson, Cassandra Clare and Marie Lu.
4.  Any books you wish had a sequel?  How about books that you wish were stand-alones?  Why?
Not really.
5.  What do you think of multiple point-of-view novels? 
Not entirely for them. If they're written well, I'll advocate it. For the most part though, I am against multiple point-of-view books.
6.  First book character crush?
Probably Jace Lightwood. Jace is a classic. 7.  Favorite classical novels?
ANNE OF GREEN GABLES. I love everything about it. Gilbert, Anne, Marilla, Diane, GILBERT.8.  What was the first book that sparked your book-lovin' soul?
The Cupid Chronicles by Colleen Murtagh Paratore in elementary school. Even though it was the second book, I read it first at promptly fell in love.
9.  Favorite genres?
YA contemporary. It has to be a bit poetic, slightly romantic, really tragic, and altogether beautiful. See Some Girls Are, The Sky is Everywhere and If I Stay.

10.  Favorite childhood books?

Anne of Green Gables.



I love the Princess and the Frog

Friday, October 25, 2013


  • to get a perfect GPA lol without any effort
  • to have no worries
  • To be as awesome as Cassey Ho
  • To lose twenty pounds
  • To publish a book
  • To have a bunch of money
  • To not be so SECULAR

Monday, October 21, 2013


Had a banana with peanut butter for dinner. 200ish cals.

I'm listening to the Beatles. They're crazily skilled.

Let it be.

This is so not a pro-ana blog. Sometimes I wish it were.
Every time I think about myself:

I started binging again. This time I think I need to go pro ana. I can't do this anymore.

Tuesday, October 15, 2013

How to Get Things Done

  • Stop flirting with electronics. Seriously.
  • No internet (see above)
  • Get everything done and then party, not the other way around.
  • Believe that you can be efficient and productive.
  • Meditate
  • Stop worrying about others. You're on your own journey.
  • Look at others, then look at yourself. Don't look away.
  • Exercise.
  • Eat right.
  • Stop reading this post.

Monday, October 14, 2013


What do you do when you think you've lost the person you were? What do you do when you've got all these leftover pieces from a past life you don't know anymore?

What do you do now?

I miss someone I don't know. I miss all things unnameable things.

"All Too Well" by Taylor Swift

 I walked through the door with you, the air was cold,
But something 'bout it felt like home somehow.
And I left my scarf there at your sister's house,
And you still got it in your drawer even now.

Oh, your sweet disposition and my wide-eyed gaze.
We're singing in the car, getting lost Upstate.
Autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place,
And I can picture it after all these days.

And I know it's long gone,
And that magic's not here no more,
And I might be okay,
But I'm not fine at all.

'Cause there we are again on that little town street.
You almost ran the red 'cause you were looking over me.
Wind in my hair, I was there, I remember it all too well.

Photo album on the counter, your cheeks were turning red.
You used to be a little kid with glasses in a twin-size bed
And your mother's telling stories about you on the tee ball team
You tell me 'bout your past, thinking your future was me.

And I know it's long gone
And there was nothing else I could do
And I forget about you long enough
To forget why I needed to...

'Cause there we are again in the middle of the night.
We dance around the kitchen in the refrigerator light
Down the stairs, I was there, I remember it all too well, yeah.

Maybe we got lost in translation, maybe I asked for too much,
And maybe this thing was a masterpiece 'til you tore it all up.
Running scared, I was there, I remember it all too well.

Hey, you call me up again just to break me like a promise.
So casually cruel in the name of being honest.
I'm a crumpled up piece of paper lying here
'Cause I remember it all, all, all... too well.

Time won't fly, it's like I'm paralyzed by it
I'd like to be my old self again, but I'm still trying to find it

After plaid shirt days and nights when you made me your own
Now you mail back my things and I walk home alone

But you keep my old scarf from that very first week
'Cause it reminds you of innocence and it smells like me
You can't get rid of it 'cause you remember it all too well, yeah

'Cause there we are again, when I loved you so
Back before you lost the one real thing you've ever known
It was rare, I was there, I remember it all too well

Wind in my hair, you were there, you remember it all
Down the stairs, you were there, you remember it all
It was rare, I was there, I remember it all too well


Saturday, October 12, 2013

Binge Eating vs. Overeating

So I used to be a binge eater. Over the summer, I would literally finish over a pound of nuts in a sitting. I could pack away a thousand calories worth of fruit and STILL eat after that. I would look through the pantry for food and secretly finish it all.

I was ashamed and disgusted on so many levels.
I was a TEENAGER. (I still am one, but still.)

It's disgusting to have that relationship with food. You're scared someone will find out that you're the reason there's barely any food left. You feel terrible knowing that you just cannot stop yourself from eating more and more. There's no satisfying your brain. You can only binge, binge, binge.

STOP IT. You have got to stop. There's no gradually easing out of binge eating, at least not in my case. You have to stop it entirely and get on with your life. Once you stop wasting your thoughts on binge eating, you will eventually stop worrying about it.

Sure you might overeat sometimes, but trust me, that's much better than binge eating.

Overeating is natural. Binge eating is not.

Thursday, October 10, 2013

Ducks and More

Today we have a guest post from the amazing Amy L. Peterson! It's about ducks...
not the Will Herondale type of duck but the actual legitimate duck. Glory. Glory. Glory.

If you're interested already, follow her Twitter here or visit her website here.

Now, without further ado, here we are:

Something Furry Underfoot is my humorous, touching memoir about raising a whole bunch of pets my husband kept bringing home and how ended up caring for and falling for all of them. It includes 50 tips, some of which are about pets, some of which are about the spouses that love pets.  For example, consider Tip #4 8:  Even fish can be stressful. In my book, you’ll read how we went from one aquarium to three aquariums just because our discus fish didn’t all get along. 
Something Furry Underfoot is available as a paperback and an e-book on, and as an e-book in numerous e-formats at If you just make your way to, you’ll find all of my books, plus photos of most of the pets in Something Furry Underfoot.  Some proceeds of all of my animal books will benefit animal rescue organizations.
Below is an excerpt from Something Furry Underfoot, from Chapter 7, Bumpkin. You’ll benefit in knowing that Nicole was a student where I worked at the state of Michigan; she’d informed me she’d found a domestic duckling wandering around a yard in East Lansing.  I’d agreed to provide the duckling a home.

On April 17, 2007, at around 3:00 p.m., Nicole approached me at work with a large shoebox, the contents of which was peeping. Word had gotten out that I was taking possession of a duckling, so with my new charge in hand and a half dozen co-workers gathered `round, I lifted one corner of the lid. Before I could see inside, the creature pushed upward on the lid of the box, and within seconds, we were face to face with a bright yellow duckling with orange feet and an orange bill. I heard several people say, “Oh, how cute.” One person asked, “What are you going to do with it?” but all I could do is wonder, “What kind of duck is this?” My next thought was that the little duckling would jump out of the box, so I had no choice but to replace the lid and carry my peeping charge out of the building and to my car.
Because the height of the box was only half the height of the duckling, I couldn’t bear to keep the duckling inside the box if I didn’t have to. Once I was seated inside my car and the door closed, I lifted the lid, took the duckling in my left hand and held it against my chest. It blinked, looked around, but made no attempt to wiggle or get away. So, using one hand to hold my duckling and the other to drive, we made our way the 10 miles home. The duckling never did wiggle; it was as if sitting on my chest was his or her preferred method of travel.
As we drove through the streets of Lansing, East Lansing and into Haslett, I was amazed by the heat coming off its little feet. Duck feet look rubbery, so I wasn’t expecting them to warm my chest. And when we took the turn into my neighborhood and I held the duckling close to my face, I wasn’t expecting its beak to be warm, too.
Once safely home, I carried the duckling inside where we were greeted by two curious dogs and one meowing kitten. The duckling blinked and peeped once in response. I told the three curious fuzzies that this was our new pal, and they would have to get used to it being around.
I carried the duckling down to the bathroom and placed her in a cardboard box I had retrieved from the local grocery store the day before. The box was lined with newspapers and soft towels, the former to throw out each day, the latter because a nest would likely have been soft and fuzzy, or at least not hard, I was thinking, and, well, okay, it was totally irrational to put towels in there, but I did anyway.
Above the box was a trouble light, which provided the primary source of warmth for the little duckling. The proper height of the light was very important—if it was too close to the bottom of the box, the duckling would bake; too far away and it wouldn’t be able to stay warm enough. What constituted too far and too close was completely beyond me and I had to trust that Mark would adjust it based on the fact that he had not baked any of his baby turkeys.
Everything looked to be in order, less the matter of food, and I was contemplating my next move when Mark appeared. Looking at the duckling he remarked, “Oh my, what a cutie. Do you know what kind?”
“I haven’t a clue.”
We stood there and stared at the duckling, who stared back at us, blinking every now and again. Finally, it peeped. Mark began talking to it, introducing himself and telling the duckling it had fallen into good hands. He picked it up and the duckling stopped peeping. As he was babbling on to the happy little duckling I asked, “So, uh, what do baby ducks eat?”
“Duck starter,” he said, and he turned as if snapping out a trance. “They’ll have it at Soldan’s.”
Since Mark had immediately assumed the role of the alpha male duck, I assumed the role of the alpha female duck, meaning, while he took up vigilance of the duckling, I found myself driving the fifteen minutes or so to a pet store in search of something I didn’t know existed. As I drove, I had plenty of time to ponder why anyone had named the substance I was looking for “duck starter.” The word “food” worked for just about every other species of animal, and the duckling I was going to feed had already started out in life without the substance I was looking for, so what I really needed was “duck keep growing.” On the other hand, I pondered, why isn’t human baby food called “kid starter”?
After wondering if anyone else has these types of issues, I asked the Soldan’s staff if they had duck starter. I was directed to the back corner of the store where, sure enough, there were five and ten pound bags of this pulverized pale tan-looking stuff labeled so that even I could determine what it was. The store also had turkey starter, which is probably how Mark’s turkeys had started out and why Mark knew duck starter existed.
After I found the duck starter, I wondered what other things I might find in the store for ducks, so I wandered up and down the aisles looking for duck grower, duck finisher, duck preening supplies, duck bathing gels, something else for ducks. I found row after row of stuffed toys and bones and food and kitty litter and even horse supplies, but nothing for ducks. To be sure I hadn’t missed something, I asked the clerk at the desk. She was a long-haired brunette with a narrow, horse-like face, a neck like a Rottweiler and a rear end like a hippo.
“Do we have what?”
“Anything for ducks besides duck starter?”
“Like—?” she asked, turning her mane sideways and snorting like a piglet.
“Like, you have all these squeaky toys and beds and bones and everything for dogs, so, what do you have for ducks?”
“Ducks only need food and water and to be kept safe and warm,” she said, waving a fat panda-like claw.
“And ducks are different than dogs, then, in what way?”
“Dogs are fuzzy and loyal; ducks are feathery and messy?” she asked, her face wrinkled like a perplexed monkey.
“And that explains why you don’t have anything else for them besides duck starter?”
“I guess.”
As I drove home with my little bag of food, I couldn’t help but count the number of stuffed toys we’d given to my childhood dogs, Candy and Ashley—God rest their souls—the plush beds they didn’t use because they’d slept with me, and the rawhide bones that once littered our house. How ridiculously spoiled our beagle and cocker spaniel had been, since all they needed was food and water, safety and warmth. And of course, we’d taken spoiling to a new level with Dusty and Little Dipper.
But rather than pondering the hundreds of dollars wasted on dogs, as I pulled into the driveway with my first of what would be many bags of duck starter, I came to appreciate ducks for their simple needs.
“Have any problems?” Mark asked. He was sitting on the bathroom floor while the duckling was running about, pecking at the newspaper.
“Walked right to it,” I smiled.
After tucking the duckling in the box, Mark took the bag and sprinkled some of the powdery stuff on top of the water bowl. This created a circular pattern of spinning tan speckles.
“That’s fascinating,” I said. I turned my attention to the duckling, who was also watching the water spin around.
“See, ducks are attracted to things that move,” Mark explained. “In the real world, it’s stuff like bugs and worms. But here, when powdery food is placed on water, it creates movement. The duckling will peck at it, realize its edible, and in no time, start eating the Purina duck starter.”
I raised a skeptical eyebrow and waited for Mark to stop adding duck starter to the water, for the water to almost stop moving. I was about to sneer when the duckling stepped up to the bowl, dipped his head in the bowl, mucked up his beak and began to eat. And while it ate, it peeped. It was the cutest thing to hear a duck happily peeping away while eating. At times, it peeped with its head in the food-water mixture and made bubbles.
Convinced that the little duckling would survive we named her Bumpkin.

Read more about Bumpkin in Something Furry Underfoot and also Bumpkin Gets Big, a rhyming photo e-book about Bumpkin for kids.  Just go to

Wednesday, October 9, 2013


"There's no recovery. There's no bounce back. There's nothing.

You're trying to tell me my brother's life is in God's hands?"- Dean from Supernatural

I've watched two episodes of Supernatural now, the last episode of Season 8 and the first episode of season 9. I'm so confused.

"This is Dean Winchester, and I need your help."
"Just because you're dying doesn't mean you're dead."

Supernatural makes some people emotional.

Tuesday, October 8, 2013


My blood pressure has entered the 4 digits.
My views have entered the 5 digits. YAY.

My digits are kind of lacking nail polish.

Monday, October 7, 2013

Saturday, October 5, 2013

Here I come

So you think that I'm too chicken to try anything.
Sorry world. I'm just trying to be successful. MOSP HERE I COME.

how to be successful

Friday, October 4, 2013


  • getting debriefed on Supernatural
  • getting confused
  • still a little sick
  • still not royal
  • confused
  • not reading lol
  • reading this post I hope

Thursday, October 3, 2013

Where did Everyone Go?

I've been sick.

As in I literally can not function without a tissue. As in I need some medicine now. As in you stupid cough drops won't cut it. As in I have a physics test tomorrow and I'm screwed.


As in how do you get rid of sickness?

Isn't anyone trying to help me?

It's a freaking long day. I need some medicine and something warm and comforting.

I'm not with myself.

So You Want to Self-Publish? Guest Post

Great minds think alike. This guest post is from the great mind of Dustin Stevens, the author of 21 Hours. He reached out to me about doing a guest post, and this is a FABULOUS one about (gasp) self-publishing!
(By great mind, I mean he went to HARVARD. Come on, great doesn't get much greater than that!)
Unfortunately, I might be thin-skinned, but I enjoyed this post nonetheless.  (Post by Dustin Stevens, highlighting by me)

So You Want to Self-Publish? You’re Going to Need Some Thick Skin…
The first thing any person that has ever written a book hears from others is “Wow, really? That must be an incredible feeling.” Every time I hear this I smile and nod, because it really is. The first time you hold a book you’ve written, it can be quite euphoric.
What I often don’t tell them is the feeling can be short lived.
The reasons for this are varied, starting first with self-imposed expectations. While the first time  you see your book listed on Amazon can be incredible, the second time it becomes a little less so. Even more the third time. Writers are no different than anybody else with aspirations, each time wanting to climb a little higher up the proverbial mountain. While the first time just holding your own book is enough to make you smile, the next time you want to see someone else holding your book.
So, how does this equate to needing thicker skin?
While the various technologies that exist for self-published authors offer a wealth of avenues for producing work, it does precious little to help with getting that work to the masses. That process requires a tremendous amount of elbow grease that in many ways can be just as daunting as the traditional publishing world.
While agents often serve as the gatekeepers into major publishing houses, book bloggers are by and large the holders of the keys to self-publishing success. These are wonderful people that take the time to spread the word of good books through their own kindness and generosity…which of course means they are deluged beyond belief. Hoping to avoid the lengthy query process is why no small number of authors opt to self-publish, but getting the larger blogs to accept a self-published work can be just as difficult, and just as harrowing, as trying to get into a major agency.
Second, perhaps more important to a self-published author than even a traditional published one are reviews. While someone coming from one of the Big Six has a tremendous amount of marketing support, often time the hopes of the self-published reside on the written words of others in places like Amazon or Goodreads. Because of that, the self-published are much more attuned to the thoughts and feedback of others. After spending weeks, months, or even years carefully constructing a work, it can be quite terrifying to place its fate in the hands of strangers.
Finally, the entire self-promotion can be quite daunting. Generally speaking, most authors would rather stay at home writing than ever dream of going in front of groups of people and talking about themselves or their work. Often, we hope our stories do that so we don’t have to. Pushing that aside to openly stump for a particular work takes getting used to.
Make no mistake, this is all worth it. Obstacles like I just mentioned are but a small down payment on moments like the ones mentioned above and the hope of bigger things to come. It should just be known though…it isn’t for the faint of heart, or the thin-skinned.

Tuesday, October 1, 2013

But It Doesn't.

It's like school never ends. When school ends it doesn't.

Join the rebellion.

Anti homework lol.

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