Theme Thursday - Mirror

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5729428/1/Loved

I have read the House of Night series of books - well, the ones that have come out so far - and I am a huge fan. My two favorite characters are Damien and Jack, and I am writing a FanFic of the two of them. The link for the story is above, and, although it would make more sense to you if you read the books and/or the entire "chapter", here is an excerpt from the first "chapter":

His expression became puzzled and concerned. “Is there something wrong, Damien?” he asked, concern coloring his voice.

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no, not at all!!” I insisted. “They’re so beautiful.”

He grinned widely. “Really? What are they?”

“Well, there are plugs… and ribbons... and bows…”

His smile got wider. “It’s me!!”

I smiled back. “It sure is. There are also swirls and gorgeous twinkling stars,” I told him.

He giggled and his eyes filled with curiousity. “Like yours? Can I see??” he asked me eagerly. Shaunee whipped out a mirror and handed it to him. I looked at her with a question on my face, and she shrugged.

“You never know when you’ll need a mirror,” she explained.

I laughed. “Of course!!”

"So true, Twin!" Erin agreed, and I turned to her. Erin had pulled out her own mirror, and she had it in her hand and was fixing her hair. Shaunee took it and began fixing her own hair, and I laughed at the Twin-liness of it all.

Chuckling, I turned back to Jack, my figure still bent over his body. He gasped as I held the mirror up for him. He stared into the mirror for a few moments, unmoving, then he grabbed the mirror delicately with the hand that had been strangling the sheet and looked at his face from all sides. He scooted up higher so he was in more of a sitting position, and he examined his new tattoos.

A new tear rolled down his cheek. “The stars and swirls… They’re just like yours.” He choked out. “We do belong together.” A round of tears fell down his cheeks, happy tears this time.

I smiled at him as I felt tears begin to roll down my cheeks. “That’s exactly what I thought. And exactly what I know.” I told him around my tears.

Don't Be A Bread Head. Theme Thursday.

Theme Thursday - Surface

Theme Thursday - Polka Dots

Dedicated to Sarah and Adam

It was a dark and stormy night.

Well, not really.

That was just the eyeshadow. Dark Storm. It's got a real dusky sorta look to it, that I really like. I was putting it on now, when I heard the door crack open.

"Adam?" I heard my name called. I spun around, eyeshadow in hand.

"Yes?"

"Are you ready to go yet?"

I spun back around to look in the mirror. "Not yet," I told him.

"Adam, you have to be done soon. We've got to go in," he checked his watch, "ten minutes!! Ten minutes, Adam, if we want to be at least sort-of on time."

"Hold on, hold on, hold on!!" I whispered.

Kris sighed. He walked over to me and handed me my eyeliner.

"Thank you!!" I cried, stealing it from his hand, putting the empty container of eyeshadow down, and working on a quick layer of eyeliner.

I heard Kris pace over to the back of the room and grab his coat. He sat down on the bed, and started tying his shoes. I finished my eyeliner, threw the pencil on the table, and jumped up. I stuck rhinestones around my eyes, for added effect. Spreading a quick layer of glitter across my face (and a little in my uber-styled hair), I slipped on my platform glitter boots, grabbed my sparkling knee-length trench coat/jacket, grabbed his hand and ran out of the room.

I heard him shut the door behind us as we sprinted down the long hallway. I started running backwards as I looked at him and smiled.

"How do I look?" I asked him loudly as I paced backwards.

"Fine. Turn around!!" his eyes went around me, so I spun around and almost ran into a stagehand carrying four Coke glasses. For the judges, I assumed.

"Hey!!" she shouted.

We skidded to a halt, and pivoted.

"What?" I shrieked, out of breath.

"You guys are on soon!!" she yelled at us.

"We know!!" we turned to run farther down the hall, but stopped when she yelled "Hey!!" again.

We stopped again.

"What?!" Kris shouted back.

"Can I have your autograph?"

Kris sighed, and we ran back to her. She pulled out a pad of paper, and I whipped out a silver-sparkle pen. Kris looked at me, his eyes saying, "What?". I just shook my head and signed her paper. I handed him the pen and he jotted down his name, sighing at my flourish of a signature.

"Thank you," she sighed. Kris hugged her quick and I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. We turned and ran back down the hall. We passed a wardrobe rack, and I yelled, "Stop!!"

Kris spun around. "What now?!"

I finally found my lucky polka-dot scarf!! I grabbed it quick, waved it in Kris' face, and tied it as I ran past him. I heard him sigh again, and he raced after me.

We finally reached the huge doors at the back of the stage. We both braced ourselves, and I tucked my scarf into my shirt.

"Hey," Kris said next to me. Breathing heavy, I looked at him.

"Yeah?" I answered.

"Good luck, man." he told me.

"You, too."

He looked down, then walked the quick steps to me and hugged me.

"Good luck," I whispered.

He pulled away. "Oh yeah!!" he yelled, getting pumped.

"Yeah!!" I shrieked up at the ceiling. We both started laughing, until we heard our musical cue. We heard Ryan speaking, and we heard our names.

"Here they are - our two finalists, Adam Lambert and Kris Allen!!"

I grabbed his hand, raised it in the air, and dropped it. I looked at him, he met my eyes, and I smiled. He smiled back.

The door raised into the air, and my hand flew to my neck, feeling the lucky scarf. The lucky polka-dots, black background, white circles, and one red circle - the "red" sheep of the bunch. Me.

I tucked it back in, and Kris and I walked out to pumping music and cheering crowds. We walked to the front center stage together, looked out at the crowd, and I looked at Kris.

Kris nodded. I grabbed his hand, as we had backstage, we threw our heads up to look at the sky, and shrieked, in unison, "WHOO!!"

"I think he's happier that he can be himself and it's nice, Adam is who he is and he's not afraid. I support him in whatever he does." - Kris Allen on Adam Lambert

"I was like, 'Oh, s***, they put me with the cute guy,' Distracting! He's the one guy I found attractive in the whole group on the show: nice, nonchalant, pretty and totally my type — except that he has a wife. I mean, he's open-minded and liberal, but he's definitely 100 percent straight." - Adam Lambert on [being roommates with] Kris Allen

I used some things the guys actually said (Adam) to describe things.

Theme Thursday - History

On this day in history, Wilbur and Orville Wright made the first flight. Taking for the skies in Kitty Hawk, North Carolina, in their Wright Flyer, they were the first men to fly. Without wings on their backs or feathers on their arms, they flew, as man had so often dreamed of, wished for, and prayed for. To be immortal, to take flight, to soar. Man soars - not so high as an eagle, not so low as a penguin, but we soar on land. We evolved with legs for a reason - to walk. We evolved arms for a reason - to touch. We evolved brains for a reason - to think. To know. To learn. And to fly. Historic.

(This doesn't make much sense...............)

Theme Thursday - Snow/The Tenth Daughter of Memory - Threshold/Happy Birthday, Mum!!!!!!!!!!

As I stared up at the painted face of my, as clichéd as it may sound, nemesis, my mind was busy making plans for escape. Ducking back under the water, swiping his legs out from under him, jumping and running away, swimming away. None of these plans made very much sense, so I just stared stupidly. His face started to become confused, and he watched me with dark, puzzled eyes and a small smile playing on his lips. I tore my eyes from his, with enough difficulty, to look past him.

His figure blurred as I focused on a castle in the back. Looking back up at him, I realized I had a stone in my fist from when I had clenched the snow - it must've snowed recently, there was a light dusting on the ground - at the shore. Asking fast, on impulse, I threw the stone, along with several clumps of dirt, into his face. While he was turned away, trying to dislodge the dirt in his eyes, I launched myself onto the land and sprinted towards the stereotypically gloomy castle, perched atop a small hill.

Whilst I ran, I felt the pain in my chest from where the weapon stabbed me. I realized the sword was out of my body, and I also realized I don't remember it being in my chest when I was in the water. Was it possible they had taken it back out of my body? The wound was no longer bleeding - the cold water had stopped that. Still hurt, but I couldn't focus on that right now.

As I pushed myself up the winding path towards the door of the castle, I looked over my shoulder frequently, watching for him. I knew that was useless, because the Joker wouldn't directly follow me, but it was an instinct to watch my back. I saw my footsteps in the newly fallen snow, but not his. I jostled the doorknob of the castle, to find it unlocked. I launched my body through the threshold - was this symbolization, perhaps, as the threshold I had crossed into my new life without Mr. Wayne? - into the vast space of a foyer and up the stairs, where I collided with a brunette woman. She fell backwards, and looked frightened.

I stopped, and observed the character at my feet. She was small, maybe 5 feet tall, with curly brown hair and deep chocolate eyes. She seemed kind, so I turned my back on her to run and shut the door. I slammed the door shut, and paced back over to her. She had pulled her self back up, and was watching me with curious eyes. I quickly explained my story to her while she watched with her wise eyes. When I finished, she stood, and whispered to me, "I'm glad you found fit to trust me with this."

She turned around, and I saw the words written on her back for the first time. "Ravynwings". That didn't sound familiar at all. Was she like me? A crimefighter? A hero? She walked to the far wall, and pulled down a sword. I realized there was blood encrusted along the sword, and she turned to face me. "What are the odds," she whispered, "That you would end up here?"

My curiousity of her actions turned to black suspicion, and the enormous door I had entered through opened. I jerked backwards, stumbling, and turned around. The Joker stood there in the doorway, and 'Ravynwings' crossed the floor over to him. She handed him the sword, and he tsked. "Such a mess you made of my sword, Robin!!" he scolded me. I gasped and moonwalked backwards to the wall, and ran my hand over to the mantle, and grabbed a small, solid statue. I advanced towards them, statue held high, when the Joker looked up and noticed me. His dark eyes watched me move, and when I raised the statue above my head - a clown, figures - he jabbed the sword back through the wound in my chest, and, for the second time, I collapsed. The last thing I heard was faint giggling.

(Happy Birthday, Mum!!)

Theme Thursday - Friend

As I lay unconscious in the bubbling brook that surrounded my broken body, I had flashbacks. You know, people always say your life flashes before your eyes - I think people do it on purpose, so they can remember everything, in case there is something after this. In case they die. Or, maybe, they remember it so they don't think, "Why did I live simply to die now?" and remembering is their way of saying, "That is what I lived for, and it was worth it."

As I pondered these deep thoughts I never really considered, I was reliving the happiest moments of my life. Coincidentally, they all happened when I was with Mr. Wayne, my best friend. My only true friend, really. It was really a shame I had had to trick him. Me, Jason Todd, unwilling "victim" of the Joker. The Joker wanted to get to Mr. Wayne by getting me - told me he'd kill him if I didn't leave his life. I knew this would hurt him, but nobody dies this way and everyone could keep Batman. Why Joker didn't kill me, I will never know. Maybe to keep me with the pain of knowing I could've stayed, wondering what could've been.

In my dream-like state, memories passing in front of my eyes like a slide show, I slowly began to feel cold spreading through my body, like I swallowed ice water. I began to feel pain, in my chest, my fingers, my knees, my head, especially. I suddenly recognized I was moving, in the water, not on top, underneath the surface, hovering in a midway. My face, above the surface, my mouth gasping for air as it spits out water in return, felt the hot sunbeams. I felt the strange urge to duck my head back underwater to avoid the scorching sun, but I fought it, unable to breathe in the first place.

I struggled to move my limbs in a swimming formation for any surface I could reach, any land, any rock, any branch. A fish, even, would be useful. I squirmed between two rocks and grabbed hold of one. As I lay, gasping for air, I heard a familiar chuckle. No, not a chuckle - chuckles are light-hearted, good-humoured. This was an evil sound, a dark-humoured one. I forced my eyes open, blinked in the blinding sunlight, into a familiar painted face. The scarlet lips moved, in a hypnotizing way, in an all-too-familiar, rasping voice, "Robin!!" He grinned, as though delighted to have found me, "We meet again!!"

The Joker had come back.



(teehee, I cheated and posted this December 6)

Theme Thursday - Late

This may be a stretch, but it works!!! I've stretched stuff before, like rubber bands, sweatpant bands, and Flubber, so this'll work!!! Plus, I read this in school today, and it really reached me. Enjoy.

"Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some LATE visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as `Nevermore.'

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never-nevermore."'

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!"

- The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe

Theme Thursday - Telephone

As I slid down the pole into the dark lair, a flood of childhood memories trespassed into my thoughts. Sliding in here time after time on my pole, and once on the other (Mr. Wayne was none too happy... that never happened again...), to slip into our costumes and go off to "fight crime", as the city so lovingly dubbed our wars with the evil of the world. For some reason, the evil of the world always seemed to place itself in the heart of Gotham.

Moving towards the Batmobile, against one wall, beside the coffins of two men I had loved, I saw a small pedestal with a gift box on top. Black wrapping paper with yellow ribbons and a vibrant sun-colored bow fixed on top. With a grim grin, I moved to lift the box, but failed. A red cord, curling into a crack in the cave wall, stopped me. I yanked the cord from the wall and skittered away from the coffins of Mr. Wayne and Alfred.

I trudged over to the waterfall on the far side of the cave and slumped against the wall. I pulled the cord through my fingers as I examined the texture, trying to locate one of my repressed memories that was telling me what this familiar object was. With a heavy sigh of failure, not being able to remember the object's name, I yanked on one of the ribbons and watched as all of them slid off the box, landing on the damp floor with numerous, light "thumps".

Eyeing the box with renewed suspicion, trying to determine what the old man could've left me, knowing it must be something either utterly ridiculous or boringly sane, I tugged on the bow taped delicately to the top of the box. Throwing it to the floor beside me, I ran my finger under the tape and one side fell open.

I dropped the box to my lap, and all four sides fell down. The lid balanced on top of the mystery object, then slid off to the side. I shut my eyes, and remained still for several minutes. Slowly, ever so slowly, I opened my eyes and glared down at the object. The Batphone. With a smile, I stood up, kicking the remains of cardboard, wrapping paper, and ribbons into the water below.

As I turned to leave, I heard a scuttling in one of the far reaches of the cave. Sitting, the vivid garnet-colored phone beside me feet, I crept along the wall. When I reached the corner, I leapt around the side, crying "Ahhh!" as I whirled around, looking for the threat. Seeing nothing, I shrugged, and moved back over to the Batphone and bent over to pick it up.

As I reached down, I heard more footsteps behind me. I spun around quickly, but not quick enough. A heavy figure launched it's sharp weapon - a sword, I believe - into my chest, and pushed me. I tumbled backwards down the waterfall, into the sharp rocks below, bleeding profusely.

Everything went black.


(Ta-da! Keep reading these - I love writing them! And here's a picture I stole from Picture Is Unrelated that fits the theme "Telephone", but has nothing to do with the story. Hope you enjoy the picture, and hope you enjoyed the story even more! Happy TT!!)

Theme Thursday - Castle

Wandering the empty halls of my forgotten castle, I stroked the dusty walls, leaving finger lines in peculiar patterns where I touch. The empty rooms leave behind people's spirits, the ghosts of furniture, and the shadows of memories from years before.

An end table stands pressed against the wall, an end table that had been left behind when the old man passed. Opening the drawer, I noticed the familiar extra items he used - tools for his job. In case he ever ran out - he was always prepared.

Shutting the end table drawer, chuckling to myself, I walked down the hallway with my hands in my pockets, remembering when I used to run down these long halls and skid with my socks at the end, pretending I could glide like the old man could.

I come upon my old room - the one I stayed in for brief periods of time when I could, and extended periods of time when I had to. I really had no problem with staying here, but I'm 50 years old now, and the memories seem faraway. Part of someone else's life, so long ago.

I push back the familiar door, hearing the creak of the hinge I always promised to oil, but never did because of that old-feel noise, I walked into the small room. Computer in the corner, cot against the wall - I didn't want a bed, it made this feel too homey - and my old dresser.

Crossing the room to the dresser pressed up against the wall, pressed so tightly it seemed like it was trying to get away from me, I pried open the ancient drawers and peered in. The outfits, folded neatly, ready to be worn, sat there. They looked like Halloween costumes - bright colors, flashy designs.

Chuckling under my breath, I pulled the solitary mask out from the side of the drawer and pulled it around my skull. Acting like I would have in my younger days, I spun around, and chopped at empty air as though I believed there was an unseen attacker lurking in the dust motes swirling about.

I stopped suddenly, remembering that's not who I am anymore. I pulled off the old mask with a slow sigh, and tucked it back in the corner of the drawer. I softly pushed the drawer back into it's place, and turned to leave.

I reached my original goal - the place I had been trying to reach, where the old man had told me he left something for me. I hadn't come for it for so long, and now I should find it. Turning to the familiar desk, pulling back the top of the bust and pressing the button - something I had always wanted to do as a child - and seeing the bookcase pull back.

I looked around me, checking to make sure nobody was watching - no unseen attacker or curious visitor - and jumped down the pole as I had so many times before. I missed Mr. Wayne, but I would always have these memories.

I am Robin.

(Hehe another stretch for another Batman post but so worth it! Don't be all like, "Ooh, Robin died!" and enjoy the story! Happy TT!)

Theme Thursday - Halloween

Twilight Candy!
Yes, I am aware I have already posted this video, but bear with me, a'ight?

Theme Thursday - Climate Change

Theme Thursday - Collection/The Tenth Daughter of Memory - Trapped

Going wandering aimlessly down the halls...
Tall shelves alongside me, books staring down...
Running my fingers along the dusty spines...
Breathing in the musty air...
Dark shadows walk alongside my feet...
My back bent, hunched as I shuffle along...
Turning my crooked neck up to look at my books...
My collection...
Looking at the toolbelt randomly strung on this shelf...
The collection of peculiar tools just sits there...
Stopping here, at this book, this shelf...
This has happened before...
Where am I...
I can't remember anything...
I'm trapped...
A prisoner of my own mind...
Feeling along the walls...
Attempting desperately for anything...
Anything at all, anything to let me out of this prison...
A bat swoops down from the ceiling...
Brushes the top of my nearly-bald skull...
Back to reality...
Looking at the bookshelf again...
Why is this so familiar...
One book at eye level has a strange title...
Adventure, it screams at me...
Adventure...
Touching that book, it feels odd...
Trying to pull it out...
The book won't come out of it's spot...
Looking over to my desk...
A bust sits on the tabletop...
Waddling over to the escritoire...
Suddenly, I remember...
I pull the top of the bust back...
And press the button...
My shelf pulls back, revealing a cavern, black as pitch...
That's why that book felt odd...
Suddenly, I remember...
And I look down the poles that flow into the basement...
My hidden sanctuary, my cave...
And I remember everything...
My memory isn't what it used to be...
But I remember now...
I'm Batman.

(Sorry this has nothing to do with Collections or being Trapped!!!!! Just had a random idea!!!!!)

Theme Thursday - Flight

This quote was in A Knight's Tale (an awesome movie) - Sir William Thatcher/Sir Ulrich Von Lichtenstein says it! I remember the scene and context and stuffz... "Love Has Given Me Wings, So I Must Fly." I doodle it all the time, because it's fun to draw! XD P.S. This is my THIRD TIME redoing this post! Rotflmao! Happy TT!

Theme Thursday - Wild

THAT IS SO AWESOME AND WILD!

Theme Thursday - Over the Hill

Okay, the first thing I thought when I read the theme was, "Over the river and through the woods, to Grandmother's house we go...". But that's not over the hill, it's just crazy. Then I thought I would write about my uncle's 50th birthday party last year that was a big deal because my aunt loves parties and there was ALOT of over-the-hill stuff. But I don't feel like writing. Instead, you get random pictures from when I google-imaged 'over the hill'. Happy TT! XD

Congrats! Even though it's pretty lame and not the same (Rhyme!!), here it is. Enjoy!

Theme Thursday - Rhythm (Finally!)

Sorry I didn't post yesterday! I got a song, but I can't find a video... It goes, "Chewe chidyo chen'chero mwana iwe," so, yeah. It's a story song from Zimbabwe about an animal called the kudu. Since I can't find it, here's a different song.




Poker Face by Lady GaGa

Theme Thursday - Rhythm Part 1

Stay tuned for Part 2 tomorrow, after school! XD I need ideas from my music teacher, he's DA BOMB! XD

At The Beginning - Theme Thursday Again

I remembered this song, and couldn't resist posting it as a second Theme Thursday! Happy TT!

Theme Thursday - Beginnings

Well, I have a new beginning! Every two years, I get to get a new phone for free, and that phone arrived yesterday. This is the beginning of a long and beautiful friendship! My old phone was named Bloooooooopers... I need a name for my new pal... But I will miss Bloooooooopers! Here are some generic photos of the two... The pink one is Bloooooooopers, and the blue one is my new phone... Any ideas, knowing my taste in inanimate objects' names?? Happy TT (Brian!)!

UPDATE: My friend Rebecca asked if it was a boy or a girl (I checked, it's a girl), and then asked what my favorite letter of the alphabet was (J) and gave me a list of girl's names that begin with J, and I chose Juliet. Meet Juliet, my friends!