This is a rushed post to compensate for . . . something that happened. I’m making excuses for my absence again, so that’s fun. I’m also stalling unabashedly, even though no one forced me to write this. Yay!
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I’ve reached the peak of blogging: a nomination. I’m beyond grateful. To all those who believed in me, thank you immensely. To those who didn’t, you don’t matter. I answer questions; I give questions; I pressure people to answer them. Sunshine and rainbows all around.
Would you look at that! Finally, something I didn’t have to snurch. In all truth, I’ve been eyeing this one for far too long, but it would be an embarrassment to steal, so I kept my distance.
Voilà , my snurching buddy Natalie The Texas Lass, who I’ve linked to countless (or five) times on here, ever-so-kindly nominated me. Not for being a sunshine blogger, she clarified, but I’ll take it!
She claimed half of the five people she listed were on hiatus, and she’s absolutely right. Only 0.5 of me is inactive.
Now! Let’s get on with it; chop chop.
The Rules:
The last movie I watched would beâoh, I’m in for a treatâTop Gun: Maverick. The main character is obviously Hangman Maverick, so . . . it could go either way. There are two possibilities for this: 1) We’re scouring the island for an F-14 (basically an old-timey jet) and in Tom Cruise fashion, we find one. That, or 2) he makes a heroic, tear-jerking one-liner telling me to cook him before we both die of starvation. And then I don’t have to because a savior will come!
So, in short, yes.
I have no ideaâOh, wait, I know this one!
Pride.
Whenever I blabbered to people about my life, their ears would detach and run in whatever direction I was not. Such a shame. The world needs more of my charismatic, intelligent, eloquent, hilariously funny self, you know? So, I thought, let’s bring it to them! And here we are.
Does any book deserve to have movie adapters blowtorching it to the ground? Well, yes. Because bad books exist, but to make my point, no.
If filmmakers needed a cash grab, they’d adapt a book that can stand its ownâthink: chart-topping, bestselling, has a loyal fanbase from international readers. And then they’d crush the book readers’ souls and pick their pockets while the loyal fans sob on the ground. But back to the question.
How about The Inheritance Games? There are so many trap-door, secret-compartment, and hidden-passageway technicalities that I couldn’t always follow, so maybe a visual representation would help. The thing’s famous enough, so they might as well adapt something just good enough that it couldn’t be worse.
Four words.
The.
Hills.
Are.
Alive.
The scene where Maria guilt trips the children is savage in the tamest way ever. The songs will live on forever in history.
Well, that or The Princess Diaries, which both have the immortalized Julie Andrews in them, the absolute icon. I’ve watched it enough to memorize the story beats, but. But, but, but. You can’t tell me I can’t fast-forward every other scene to get to Mia Thermopolis transforming into the gorgeous Anne Hathaway. Oh, the makeup! The costume design! The angst afterward!
Can we all agree that Anne Hathaway’s acting was so unbelievably natural for her debut movie? Seriously.
I don’t remember doing it recently, but I will once the opportunity comes. Wait! Before you shun me, look at how this situation works and tell me my thinking is flawed.
I live in a tropical place. If you’re getting cooked in the heatwave wherever you are in the wide world, I’m getting fried. But this is the dry season. Fast forward to the wet season, and the cold can bite back. It comes and goes, so you never know what to prepare for.
Imagine you want to take a nightly stroll. You open the window, and a misty breeze spritzes you in the face. After you wipe your face, you slip on some socks for the journey and head on. A couple people pass you, hardly batting an eye at your footwear. It’s the classic socks and sneakers. No way that could go wrong.
And temperature said, “Psych!”
Twenty minutes in, sweat pools at the back of your neck. It’s hot all right, and your feet are bearing the brunt of it. Why did you put shoes and socks on? Now there’s no easy way out!
Aha! But there’s a cheat code. If you thought ahead and slipped on some chic sandals with those socks, just remove your marginally less smelly socks midstride, stuff them in your pockets, and be on your way.
And if you ain’t convinced, I’ll pull out the race card with the claim sandals are our go-to. They’re comfy, not that much work to put on, and fit with mostly anything. We can pack those for a trip and underestimate just how chilly it would be, so boom. Socks and sandals. Plus, you become a style icon, not caring what people think. The kids giggling and pointing their stubby fingers at your feet are oozing with jealousy.
Ha, you didn’t say how many times I can travel back in time in those fifteen minutes.
For an uncharacteristically serious answer, I’d meet the grandparents I never saw. That is, my grandma (or “lola” in Tagalog) on my mom’s side and my grandpa (or “angkong” in Phokkien) on my dad’s side. I’d visit my mom’s brother and my dad’s brother’s wife and just . . . talk. I want to know what I missed. And then I’d relive the last moments I saw my relatives who passed away during the pandemic and record their last words to me.
Fifteen minutes would never feel longer, and the weight of it all would crash on me when I’m back in the presentâlosing them.
ðĪ§ *blows nose*
Sentimentality over.
People who can work with music are legends. My attention span is about the size of a gerbil’s paw, so it’s “blessed silence” for me.
My type of “chill, ambient study music” tends to tell a storyâLaufey, Taylor Swift, Lyn Lapid, sometimes beabadoobeeâso I end up pausing to piece the parts of it together. Yes, I’ve tried Lofi, and the stubborn thing still doesn’t work. But even in silence, I find creative ways to distract myself, and the results end the same anyway.
I’m a hopeless case, people. It’s either laser-focus or nothing.
Darn it, that’s a good one.
Hm. World peace is clichÃĐ and unattainable, so that’s out of the question. Could it be a cure for cancer? A drug for HIV? Uncontaminated water accessible even to the far ends of the earth? Perfect fictional males to be real?!
No, no. Those are too huge for me to pry into. I might end up like Peter in No Way Home or some other movie that uses this concept. Bruce Almighty maybe.
I might as well tie this into my previous answer, which would mean laser focus . . . or actual laser-shooting eyes. Would the latter be of any use? No, and that’s exactly the point.
Take a guess.
Currently on book 2, and I’m loving it.
I also began listening to Olivia Rodrigo, and despite my efforts to deny being an emo, you-don’t-understand-me teen, I’ve failed. Last year’s Spotify Wrapped compared my music taste to a vampire’s. Something about “emotional” songs and “being engulfed.” Pssh, like I know what that means.
Night owl. I type this in my PJs. My Algebra book also lays open before my laptop, forgotten and abandoned, but that’s not what you’re asking.
There’s this lulling silence to the night. Everything’s at peace; it’s the time of the day you’d postponed your tasks to, and you’ve run out of excuses and will to fight against the inevitable future, so, y’know, you just do it.
This post was brought to you by Nike!
No, it wasn’t. You didn’t buy that for a second.
I’m but a simple child. Animated shows. They’re more colorful, pop off of the screen, and have greater attention to detail. Speaking of which, I started The Bad Guys today, and if the world’s come to the point animated films have better pacing and plot than live-action ones, so be it. I’d simp for a wolf any day. Wait, what? Who said that? IâI didn’tâ
Then again, it’s a kid’s movie.
Emily Charlotte @Emily Charlotte
Hannah @Faith, Fiction, & Fairytales
Maddie @Lightward Joy
Niv @Niv’s Nook
Reesa @The DollVille Blog
Regan @Adventures of AG Dolls
And shout out to Natalie *cough hack cough* for remembering I existed and signing me up for this. It’s truly appreciated.
My, that’s much more word mumbo jumbo than I expected. I love how my lengthiest answer is for the “socks with sandals” question. I had to defend, er, explain myself.
You’re getting tired of me, aren’t you? Too bad! What would you have answered to Natâs questions? Let me know. Frankly, they’re too clever to be used on only five people, so answer away.
Iâm back!!! November was pretty hectic. Between inconsistencies, sickness, partying, and an insane amount of ballet classes, Iâd say this was a great month. Letâs recap it!
Started: 12/10/2023
As I examine my calendar’s eleventh month of 2023, I realize…I should mark my calendar more. Perhaps [Little Sister] was right; my memory is little better than a goldfish’s.
Well.
Too bad!
If given the choice, I would’ve skipped this month’s wrap-up. A lot happened; I have something to write about, and heaven forbid that. Writing is supposed to be sporadic and inconsistent. You know, chaotic…right?
But then I discovered people enjoy things they can look forward to, like monthly wrap-ups, so my people-pleasing skills kicked in. And would you look at thatâit benefited all of us this time! Of course, I had to postpone this as long as my dignity permitted. But. In the end, I hauled my patootie in front of my laptop, and here we are. Isn’t it lovely how things come to play?
No? Okay.
Ah, school. That glorious thing that consumes your youthful years.
I’m not coming on here and pretending I’m a star student (Top honors since I’m the only one in my class! =D), but I have this 100% healthy habit of being extremely passionate and working as hard as possible. The downside is when I get burnt outâwhich is often, considering I work harder than shrewderâI sidestep the task until the risk reaches alarming levels. Ha, I’m writing this now to avoid studying for an exam.
So, obviously, I’m the role model you should follow.
But you know what? I procrastinated by watching videos on how to stop procrastinating and found the YouTuber Elizabeth Filips, who gives helpful tips for ADHD-type people. I started here and gasped halfway through because, wow, I wasn’t alone!
And the people I relate with have ADHD! Does that mean I have it, too? And that, dear friends, spiraled into a whole other distraction, which is unimportant.
What is important is that I left with applicable information that worked for about a week. Then my bad habits kicked in, and…I’m fixing it. I’m hanging a mental “Construction in Progress” beside my desk and using time with which I could be productive in finding out why I wasn’t.
Clap for me, you guys! I’m sho shmart!
*throws hands*
Why didn’t I encounter her videos sooner?!
To think, I’d heard people praising her around the blogosphere and never even searched her name on YouTube. Why? Why?!
Then again, my problem isn’t knowing how and what to write; Reedsy has educated me quite well. The problem is to, you know, write. Sitting down, setting a word or hour count, opening Google Docs, and typing away is what my schedule is sorely lacking.
But that’ll be a rabbit trail into why mindsets of having to write and being a writer are two separate ideas, one of which can tap into low self-esteem and trigger hidden doubt, but pssh. No one wants to read that.
Against my willâ
I went to a dress-up party as Enola Holmes. (Translation: I left my house!!!)
Mother went all out with my costume this year and even said I looked the “most elegant” among the rowdy kids that day. I wore heeled boots and make-up. My eyeliner melted a bit after the first 3 hours, which a friend so kindly (and publicly:’)) informed me. But it gave a more I’m-a-child-without-parental-supervision-roaming-the-polluted-streets-of-London-and-totally-crushing-this-creep-with-a-bowler-hat-by-kicking-his-butt-with-my-cool-martial-arts-skills vibe, anyway.
(Watch Enola Holmes on Netflix, you guys. ð)
2/5 of the people who approached me recognized my character, and the rest shot me random names that I cannot, for the life of me, remember, even if a friend who went as a Men-In-Black agent put her dart gun to my head.
And I met two Sherlocks.
My self-prepping was similar to what I’d done on *cough* a similar day *cough*, constituting soul-crushing dread. A great ball of nerves lodged in my chest vibrated with every breath, weighing down on my lungs (I don’t think that’s normal), and a million scenarios of how things could go wrong played on a loop in my imagination.
But in the end, a friend from the mentioned “a similar day” and a fellow ballerina friend I used to have theatre classes with stuck close, and I don’t have that many regrets. Hallelujah!
Er, right, there’s one regret of stalking a guy by the commission of my bestie, and I could never be a super spy because of sheer embarrassment. Who knew starting conversations just to pry information out of people could be awkward?
Note to self: Leave the Cruising to Tom.
I ate nothing but free ice cream (because I wasn’t hungry, and if I were, you can rest assured I’d have devoured and wiped out the buffet fit for 100 or so students in less than 20 minutes).
The beginning of the five hours was fun, but the end dragged on. But overall, I enjoyed it. 7/10. Would probably recommend, but it depends.
Four ballet classes a week = pain. Pain everywhere. Quads, calves, shoulders, ankles, lower back, metatarsals, core, shins, you name it.
My two sisters and I were the few consistent attendees, so when the day for the recital drew near, we had to double the class days to prepare. My legs have yet to recover. I was even hesitant about the party because it fell on a ballet day.
But you know, having amazing classmates has its benefits. It almost means being shushed by the teachers for making so much chismis, a Tagalog word for “gossip” but not quite gossip. That’s a terrible explanation, but sometimes things don’t translate directly. I’m doing my best here. ðĪ§
Ended: Date of Publication
Goodness gracious, this is late. Hohoho, Merry (early) Christmas, guys!
Wouldn’t me making one unique post in favor of the season be cool? Wouldn’t it?
Oh, to dream.
How have y’all been? Did you forget about me? That’s a shame coz I’m popping back into the frame like a pimple breakout. Mwahaha.
‘Tis the season!
A Christian Kid's Journal 