Friday, July 9, 2010
My blogging days are OVERR
I haven't anything to document through my blog, so I guess I'll just spend my days wasting away on facebook and such. Unless.... I find something to blog about.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
DIE SOCIAL NETWORKING!! DIE! KILL IT WITH FIRE!
Sorry. I'm just mad at the world for being obsessed with facebook and the World Cup and stuff. well now you can comment for real because I reverted my widgets back to normal or something. So comment and say something pretty like "Hi Sylvie you are a great person."
Maybe I'll start the Naylah story again - IN MY NEXT POST. Goodness I can't wait to get out of school. I wish I had a cupcake to eat.
Maybe I'll start the Naylah story again - IN MY NEXT POST. Goodness I can't wait to get out of school. I wish I had a cupcake to eat.
Friday, May 28, 2010
Anorexia nervosa
I understand there has been a rumour spreading saying that I have Anorexia. This is an article on the subject from Wikipedia. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anorexia_nervosa
This rumour has become a threat to my friendships and my happiness, and I don't believe it's true, but that's for you to judge. My point is that if you are really worried about me, you could tell someone trustworthy like the school nurse or a psychologist. Not your little friends who are just going to tease me about it and make my life miserable. I know most people don't do this, but some people think that eating disorders are excuses to hate people and make their lives living hells.
That is not true. If you're reading this, you know who you are, and please don't do this anymore.
This rumour has become a threat to my friendships and my happiness, and I don't believe it's true, but that's for you to judge. My point is that if you are really worried about me, you could tell someone trustworthy like the school nurse or a psychologist. Not your little friends who are just going to tease me about it and make my life miserable. I know most people don't do this, but some people think that eating disorders are excuses to hate people and make their lives living hells.
That is not true. If you're reading this, you know who you are, and please don't do this anymore.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Tennyson's Lady of Shallot
Here is a beautiful wistful poem for everyone!
So beautiful...
On either side the river lie
Long fields of barley and of rye,
That clothe the wold and meet the sky;
And thro' the field the road runs by
To many-tower'd Camelot;
And up and down the people go,
Gazing where the lilies blow
Round an island there below,
The island of Shalott.
Willows whiten, aspens quiver,
Little breezes dusk and shiver
Through the wave that runs for ever
By the island in the river
Flowing down to Camelot.
Four grey walls, and four grey towers,
Overlook a space of flowers,
And the silent isle imbowers
The Lady of Shalott.
By the margin, willow veil'd,
Slide the heavy barges trail'd
By slow horses; and unhail'd
The shallop flitteth silken-sail'd
Skimming down to Camelot:
But who hath seen her wave her hand?
Or at the casement seen her stand?
Or is she known in all the land,
The Lady of Shalott?
Only reapers, reaping early,
In among the bearded barley
Hear a song that echoes cheerly
From the river winding clearly;
Down to tower'd Camelot;
And by the moon the reaper weary,
Piling sheaves in uplands airy,
Listening, whispers, " 'Tis the fairy
Lady of Shalott."
There she weaves by night and day
A magic web with colours gay.
She has heard a whisper say,
A curse is on her if she stay
To look down to Camelot.
She knows not what the curse may be,
And so she weaveth steadily,
And little other care hath she,
The Lady of Shalott.
And moving through a mirror clear
That hangs before her all the year,
Shadows of the world appear.
There she sees the highway near
Winding down to Camelot;
There the river eddy whirls,
And there the surly village churls,
And the red cloaks of market girls
Pass onward from Shalott.
Sometimes a troop of damsels glad,
An abbot on an ambling pad,
Sometimes a curly shepherd lad,
Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad
Goes by to tower'd Camelot;
And sometimes through the mirror blue
The knights come riding two and two.
She hath no loyal Knight and true,
The Lady of Shalott.
But in her web she still delights
To weave the mirror's magic sights,
For often through the silent nights
A funeral, with plumes and lights
And music, went to Camelot;
Or when the Moon was overhead,
Came two young lovers lately wed.
"I am half sick of shadows," said
The Lady of Shalott.
A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,
He rode between the barley sheaves,
The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves,
And flamed upon the brazen greaves
Of bold Sir Lancelot.
A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd
To a lady in his shield,
That sparkled on the yellow field,
Beside remote Shalott.
The gemmy bridle glitter'd free,
Like to some branch of stars we see
Hung in the golden Galaxy.
The bridle bells rang merrily
As he rode down to Camelot:
And from his blazon'd baldric slung
A mighty silver bugle hung,
And as he rode his armor rung
Beside remote Shalott.
All in the blue unclouded weather
Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather,
The helmet and the helmet-feather
Burn'd like one burning flame together,
As he rode down to Camelot.
As often thro' the purple night,
Below the starry clusters bright,
Some bearded meteor, burning bright,
Moves over still Shalott.
His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd;
On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode;
From underneath his helmet flow'd
His coal-black curls as on he rode,
As he rode down to Camelot.
From the bank and from the river
He flashed into the crystal mirror,
"Tirra lirra," by the river
Sang Sir Lancelot.
She left the web, she left the loom,
She made three paces through the room,
She saw the water-lily bloom,
She saw the helmet and the plume,
She look'd down to Camelot.
Out flew the web and floated wide;
The mirror crack'd from side to side;
"The curse is come upon me," cried
The Lady of Shalott.
In the stormy east-wind straining,
The pale yellow woods were waning,
The broad stream in his banks complaining.
Heavily the low sky raining
Over tower'd Camelot;
Down she came and found a boat
Beneath a willow left afloat,
And around about the prow she wrote
The Lady of Shalott.
And down the river's dim expanse
Like some bold seer in a trance,
Seeing all his own mischance --
With a glassy countenance
Did she look to Camelot.
And at the closing of the day
She loosed the chain, and down she lay;
The broad stream bore her far away,
The Lady of Shalott.
Lying, robed in snowy white
That loosely flew to left and right --
The leaves upon her falling light --
Thro' the noises of the night,
She floated down to Camelot:
And as the boat-head wound along
The willowy hills and fields among,
They heard her singing her last song,
The Lady of Shalott.
Heard a carol, mournful, holy,
Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,
Till her blood was frozen slowly,
And her eyes were darkened wholly,
Turn'd to tower'd Camelot.
For ere she reach'd upon the tide
The first house by the water-side,
Singing in her song she died,
The Lady of Shalott.
Under tower and balcony,
By garden-wall and gallery,
A gleaming shape she floated by,
Dead-pale between the houses high,
Silent into Camelot.
Out upon the wharfs they came,
Knight and Burgher, Lord and Dame,
And around the prow they read her name,
The Lady of Shalott.
Who is this? And what is here?
And in the lighted palace near
Died the sound of royal cheer;
And they crossed themselves for fear,
All the Knights at Camelot;
But Lancelot mused a little space
He said, "She has a lovely face;
God in his mercy lend her grace,
The Lady of Shalott."
So beautiful...
On either side the river lie
Long fields of barley and of rye,
That clothe the wold and meet the sky;
And thro' the field the road runs by
To many-tower'd Camelot;
And up and down the people go,
Gazing where the lilies blow
Round an island there below,
The island of Shalott.
Willows whiten, aspens quiver,
Little breezes dusk and shiver
Through the wave that runs for ever
By the island in the river
Flowing down to Camelot.
Four grey walls, and four grey towers,
Overlook a space of flowers,
And the silent isle imbowers
The Lady of Shalott.
By the margin, willow veil'd,
Slide the heavy barges trail'd
By slow horses; and unhail'd
The shallop flitteth silken-sail'd
Skimming down to Camelot:
But who hath seen her wave her hand?
Or at the casement seen her stand?
Or is she known in all the land,
The Lady of Shalott?
Only reapers, reaping early,
In among the bearded barley
Hear a song that echoes cheerly
From the river winding clearly;
Down to tower'd Camelot;
And by the moon the reaper weary,
Piling sheaves in uplands airy,
Listening, whispers, " 'Tis the fairy
Lady of Shalott."
There she weaves by night and day
A magic web with colours gay.
She has heard a whisper say,
A curse is on her if she stay
To look down to Camelot.
She knows not what the curse may be,
And so she weaveth steadily,
And little other care hath she,
The Lady of Shalott.
And moving through a mirror clear
That hangs before her all the year,
Shadows of the world appear.
There she sees the highway near
Winding down to Camelot;
There the river eddy whirls,
And there the surly village churls,
And the red cloaks of market girls
Pass onward from Shalott.
Sometimes a troop of damsels glad,
An abbot on an ambling pad,
Sometimes a curly shepherd lad,
Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad
Goes by to tower'd Camelot;
And sometimes through the mirror blue
The knights come riding two and two.
She hath no loyal Knight and true,
The Lady of Shalott.
But in her web she still delights
To weave the mirror's magic sights,
For often through the silent nights
A funeral, with plumes and lights
And music, went to Camelot;
Or when the Moon was overhead,
Came two young lovers lately wed.
"I am half sick of shadows," said
The Lady of Shalott.
A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,
He rode between the barley sheaves,
The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves,
And flamed upon the brazen greaves
Of bold Sir Lancelot.
A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd
To a lady in his shield,
That sparkled on the yellow field,
Beside remote Shalott.
The gemmy bridle glitter'd free,
Like to some branch of stars we see
Hung in the golden Galaxy.
The bridle bells rang merrily
As he rode down to Camelot:
And from his blazon'd baldric slung
A mighty silver bugle hung,
And as he rode his armor rung
Beside remote Shalott.
All in the blue unclouded weather
Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather,
The helmet and the helmet-feather
Burn'd like one burning flame together,
As he rode down to Camelot.
As often thro' the purple night,
Below the starry clusters bright,
Some bearded meteor, burning bright,
Moves over still Shalott.
His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd;
On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode;
From underneath his helmet flow'd
His coal-black curls as on he rode,
As he rode down to Camelot.
From the bank and from the river
He flashed into the crystal mirror,
"Tirra lirra," by the river
Sang Sir Lancelot.
She left the web, she left the loom,
She made three paces through the room,
She saw the water-lily bloom,
She saw the helmet and the plume,
She look'd down to Camelot.
Out flew the web and floated wide;
The mirror crack'd from side to side;
"The curse is come upon me," cried
The Lady of Shalott.
In the stormy east-wind straining,
The pale yellow woods were waning,
The broad stream in his banks complaining.
Heavily the low sky raining
Over tower'd Camelot;
Down she came and found a boat
Beneath a willow left afloat,
And around about the prow she wrote
The Lady of Shalott.
And down the river's dim expanse
Like some bold seer in a trance,
Seeing all his own mischance --
With a glassy countenance
Did she look to Camelot.
And at the closing of the day
She loosed the chain, and down she lay;
The broad stream bore her far away,
The Lady of Shalott.
Lying, robed in snowy white
That loosely flew to left and right --
The leaves upon her falling light --
Thro' the noises of the night,
She floated down to Camelot:
And as the boat-head wound along
The willowy hills and fields among,
They heard her singing her last song,
The Lady of Shalott.
Heard a carol, mournful, holy,
Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,
Till her blood was frozen slowly,
And her eyes were darkened wholly,
Turn'd to tower'd Camelot.
For ere she reach'd upon the tide
The first house by the water-side,
Singing in her song she died,
The Lady of Shalott.
Under tower and balcony,
By garden-wall and gallery,
A gleaming shape she floated by,
Dead-pale between the houses high,
Silent into Camelot.
Out upon the wharfs they came,
Knight and Burgher, Lord and Dame,
And around the prow they read her name,
The Lady of Shalott.
Who is this? And what is here?
And in the lighted palace near
Died the sound of royal cheer;
And they crossed themselves for fear,
All the Knights at Camelot;
But Lancelot mused a little space
He said, "She has a lovely face;
God in his mercy lend her grace,
The Lady of Shalott."
Monday, May 10, 2010
A new interest in life
Hey guess what so you can add comments now AREN'T YOU EXCITED? :D
I think I'm going to have a farm someday. How great, yes? And I'll wear a romantic dress of lace AND I"LL WEAR A BONNET, MAN! Don't you just hate the way I have nothing to say? I'm just pounding on the keyboard of my computer listlessly, procrastinating on all that crap I have to do for school!! Why, just why?
I think I'm going to have a farm someday. How great, yes? And I'll wear a romantic dress of lace AND I"LL WEAR A BONNET, MAN! Don't you just hate the way I have nothing to say? I'm just pounding on the keyboard of my computer listlessly, procrastinating on all that crap I have to do for school!! Why, just why?
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
The Goddess Bunny
Okay I have to take a break from this whole "Naylah cromagnon girl" thing to show you this amazing (or disturbing, depending on your taste) video. It's someone with polio crossdressing and tap-dancing!!! HOW COOL IS THAT?????! :P
Thursday, April 15, 2010
April 2, 30,000 BC
Geoffrey and I were sitting on the ledge of our
cave. I had been given a strange thing made from a CAVE BEAR FEMUR!!!!
"You play shaman flute," said Ungi, handing the thing to me.
"Uhhh...." I said, "What do I do with it?"
"You no know?" Said Ungi. She seemed very kind and motherly about it. "You no know? But I thought you shaman! YOU NO SHAMAN!! LEAVE! AND TAKE CAVE BEAR WITH YOU!!"
So the neanderthals had cast me out. This is fantastic. However, I didn't wait a s
econd complaining and weeping, like I usually do - I grabbed my hide parfleche and started out for new beginnings - or new ends - or - whatever.
On my quest back home, I took a slightly different route. This route was a little more scenic, but it took longer and I had a greater probability of losing my life. Ah, well.
However, luckily Geoffrey and my most interesting experience by far our accidental stop at an encampment near a great floodplain by the Great River,.
"Hello there, lady," Said some fellow, emerging from a hide tent. He was obviously hitting on me.
"Hello lady," He said again. This time he caught my attention. A Burial Ceremony was taking place(pictured right) At their encamapment - this seemed like a pretty bad time for someone to be flirting with me. But still, he touched my heart. I smiled at him.
"So... how's it... AAAAAH! sHE HAS A BEAR! eVErY mAn FoR hiMsELf!!!"
All of the tribe turned and stared at me for a moment, then fled into their tents like bats out of hell.
This was the reaction I expected. I was about to move along, when...
"Hello there, my lady," said the same guy, approaching me with caution. "You must be a shaman! Well, my sincerest apologies for treating you with such disrespect. You had better lodge with me... in my hut..."
"I, uh..." Just as I tried to think of an excuse to leave, he took me by the hand and led me to his hut.
"My name is Sharmano. You should meet our shaman, girl. You'd just love him. And follow us north for the mammoth hunt. What a lovely shaman lady you are."
And thus,
I have gotten myself into another trap.
Geoffrey and I were sitting on the ledge of our
cave. I had been given a strange thing made from a CAVE BEAR FEMUR!!!!
"You play shaman flute," said Ungi, handing the thing to me.
"Uhhh...." I said, "What do I do with it?"
"You no know?" Said Ungi. She seemed very kind and motherly about it. "You no know? But I thought you shaman! YOU NO SHAMAN!! LEAVE! AND TAKE CAVE BEAR WITH YOU!!"
So the neanderthals had cast me out. This is fantastic. However, I didn't wait a s
econd complaining and weeping, like I usually do - I grabbed my hide parfleche and started out for new beginnings - or new ends - or - whatever.On my quest back home, I took a slightly different route. This route was a little more scenic, but it took longer and I had a greater probability of losing my life. Ah, well.
However, luckily Geoffrey and my most interesting experience by far our accidental stop at an encampment near a great floodplain by the Great River,.
"Hello there, lady," Said some fellow, emerging from a hide tent. He was obviously hitting on me.
"Hello lady," He said again. This time he caught my attention. A Burial Ceremony was taking place(pictured right) At their encamapment - this seemed like a pretty bad time for someone to be flirting with me. But still, he touched my heart. I smiled at him.
"So... how's it... AAAAAH! sHE HAS A BEAR! eVErY mAn FoR hiMsELf!!!"
All of the tribe turned and stared at me for a moment, then fled into their tents like bats out of hell.
This was the reaction I expected. I was about to move along, when...
"Hello there, my lady," said the same guy, approaching me with caution. "You must be a shaman! Well, my sincerest apologies for treating you with such disrespect. You had better lodge with me... in my hut..."
"I, uh..." Just as I tried to think of an excuse to leave, he took me by the hand and led me to his hut.
"My name is Sharmano. You should meet our shaman, girl. You'd just love him. And follow us north for the mammoth hunt. What a lovely shaman lady you are."
And thus,
I have gotten myself into another trap.
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