31 March 2011

newness and old.

Listening to: Beautiful Disaster by Jon McLaughin.
Quote love: "And when you need it most, I have a hundred reasons why I love you." Jars of Clay. (this quote is on my wall right now. current favorite.)

Hey lovelies! Sometimes I feel like it's been ages since I've been around the blog world, which is usually completely not even close to true. Anyways, there's some fun stuff that you might want to be clued in on.

First thing: this is my birthday weekend. I'll be offline for most of it, doing fun things like Ikea and Jungle Jim's. I do have something fun scheduled, mostly about fifteen and being all nostalgic and whatnot.

And speaking of nostalgia, I think I'm gonna be sharing a little more about my summer in Jordan. It's been right in front of my face lately, what with planning this summer, talking to my friends Mimi and Chris, and silly little things, like the cut-out of Woody on my wall, which reminds me of Toy Story 3, which reminds me of watching it in theaters with Mimi and Philip and Paul, which makes me miss the summer all over again. SO if you feel like seeing some photos and hearing memories, then please stick around next week. :)

Also speaking of nostalgia, I set up a Twitter today. (This is only nostalgic because I'm following Queen Rania from Jordan. Other than that, it's a completely normal thing.) You should maybe follow me or something like that. I'm slightly scared to publish my first tweet because, really, what do I say?

 My new baby, the 50mm, is so amazing. I took all the shots in this post with it, and it just keeps getting better. I'm have a slight bit of trouble with the focus, but it's improving. I love it like crazy.

Have a happy weekend, and I'll be back around Sunday afternoon-ish!

28 March 2011

the time johnny depp followed my blog.

Listening to: Let It All Out by Relient K. 
Quote love: "I have hated words and I have loved them, and I hope I have made them right." from the Book Thief, by Markus Zusak. 

I can't believe this story didn't get told. It's one of those things that every single blogger will get, unless they're normal and don't think that celebrities follow them. 

We snorkeled at the Puerto Rican island where they filmed part of Pirates 4. Which would be way more awesome if they had been filming while we were there, instead of however long ago they were there. Our guide, Winnick, (coolest name ever!) told us that we had "bragging rights." Really, I would have rather just met Johnny Depp.

Anyways. That just reminded me of this story. 

So last month, while my parents were in Alaska, I was looking through my followers. My blog does this stupid thing where if you don't have a profile picture and you follow me, it puts you to the very back of my follower list. It's silly. 

I'm assuming that I got a new follower and I was looking for it. So here's what happened: 

I'm looking through my followers, and I get to the last page. I start hyperventilating (exaggeration, I was just really excited), because ohmygoshJohnnyDeppfollowsmyblog! And then I stop. I calm down. And I start being disappointed. Because, actually, it wasn't Johnny Depp I saw. (Shocker, right?)

See the name Jenny Dep? Yeah...that's my aunt (who I love very much and thought this story was hilarious). At a glance, it looks like Johnny Depp.

Hence my confusion and disappointment.

Isn't that a nice story? I mean, if Johnny ever DOES decide to follow my blog (I can't imagine why he would...) I wouldn't complain at all.

I'm home now, and basically worn out. None of us got much sleep on Sunday while we traveled home, and my wake-up time for Taylor this morning was so much earlier than I wanted. 

Speaking of Taylor... 

It followed us. Really. We walked into our hotel on the outgoing trip and there was a big group of college guys hanging out in the lobby. And...I knew one of the guys. Not like the, oh hey, why are you here? kind of knowing him. More of the, oh, look, you're in my drawing class, why are you at my hotel? I didn't ask him because it would have been just...weird. 

And then they were at the airport the next morning. And then they were on our flight to Houston. It was one of those things where the person you're used to seeing in a specific place is not in that place.

On our last flight back yesterday, there was a Taylor family on our flight back to Indy. 


This lovely girl gave me an award. Here's the thing: I don't usually do these, because I'm not a fan of filling up my blog with these sorts of things, but it sounds like fun, I have nothing better to do, and maybe it's something you want to read? 

The rules: seven unknown things about you (or, in this case, me). Should be easy, right?

So. Seven things about me. 

One) I'm a list maker. If you've been reading for a while, you might have picked up on this. It's not only lists, but notes. I write notes, too, mostly on my hands, occasionally on the post-its on my desk. Things I need to remember. How to take a screen shot. (necessary for this post.) Is Rihanna singing in Lady Gaga's song Telephone? Tell the youth pastor's fiancee something. Songs I like on Pandora. 

Two) On Sunday at the Puerto Rican airports my bags got searched because I had too many books stacked up together. Definitely a first for me. I thought it was so funny. I mean, really, why? I can't blow up an airplane with a book. I look like such a terrorist.

Three) Frosted animal crackers are one of my favorite things. A few weeks ago I mistakenly bought iced animals crackers from Target. Big, disappointing difference. 

Four) Before we moved to the Netherlands, in the four to six year range, I used to carry around a backpack. It went everywhere I went. Inside was illegal contraband: candy. That thing was stuffed. I can't see how I even got my hands on that much candy. I mean, yes, there was the time I stole that marshmallow thing from Walmart, and the time I stole all those suckers from Gramps' shop. But really, besides that, I don't know where it all came from. We must have gotten more Halloween candy than I remember. 

Six) Speaking of Halloween, I remember the year I was five. My parents packed me onto a plane and sent me out to Arizona to visit my grandparents. While I was there, we had a Halloween party. I was a princess, and my older cousin Austin was a knight. I was mad (like, almost in tears mad) because he insisted that he wouldn't be my knight in shining armor. Looking back on it now, I mean, it's probably a good thing. Who wants their cousin to be their knight in shining armor?

Seven) Sweet sixteen is on Sunday. (big-time alliteration in that last sentence.) All I want is a Justin Bieber CD. haha. Kiddding. I'm way excited, though. It's gonna be amazing. Edit: All I want is the Tangled DVD. *coughint-hintcough*

What have you been up lately? I loved hearing what you thought about our little mini series... the Brits definitely won that one. :) Have a lovely week!

(again, the formatting on Blogger is weird. so sorry about it!)

25 March 2011

Libby's turn: what does a British girl think about it?

Walk into a British bookstore and most of the teen fiction will be pastel-hued novels by Louise Rennison and the like. The lines from these diary-style confessional, laugh-out-loud books cause, along with cackling laughter, huge.huge.huge swooning. On a Victorian, pass-me-the-smelling salts level. Why? Oh, simply because they house some of the sweetest, most gorgeous, loveliest gents that twenty-first century British teen literature has to offer.

Actually, scratch that. Some of the sweetest, most gorgeous, loveliest gents that twenty-first century Western teen literature has to offer. Because sparkly boys with an addiction to blood don't really do it for me. Surely I cannot be alone in this belief? So--an exhibition of sweet, funny, and not-exactly bad-looking fictional guys.

Exhibit a: Kartik in A Great And Terrible Beauty.
He's Indian. But, he's living in Britain and the book is written by a Brit. So, roll with it. He's sensitive and nice and handsome. And quite possibly a ghost, which only adds to the allure.

Exhibit b: Robbie in Confessions Of Georgia Nicholson
Lovely chap. Oh, he's not half bad in the films either!

Exhibit c: Ron Weasley in Harry Potter
Yes, Ron. I stopped the series someplace around the fifth book because Harry was not exactly my style of reading but Ron was my fav. He was kind of down-to-earth and he was funnier than Harry.

Exhibit d: Billy in Ally's World
Billy is awesome. He's such a typical boy, blanking out on important conversations and droning on about xBox, but secretly romantic too.

And that's not even starting on the classics. Oh, Mr Darcy! And some crazy people find Heathcliff romantic {I want to swear at him, frankly}. Not forgetting Mr Rochester either...

Looking back over this list, I seem to be listing fairly 'normal' boys. And isn't that what we want? Not sparkly bloodsuckers, hairy wood-dwellers, or the traitorous but gorgeous guys.

So--yes. Perhaps some of the boys in my French class leave a lot to be desired. But in the realms of fiction? We, the British, are unbeatable.

{and I swear I don't normally speak--or type--this 'englishly'. But when writing about Britain I feel the need to drop in terribly British phrases. And drink tea.}

like a continent on my hand.

Enjoying: (in a weird sort of way) my sunburn. Guys, it's spring.
Quote love: “She started writing notes and keeping them under her pillow, and then she started writing them on her pillowcase, hoping they will help her have better dreams. And if she couldn’t sleep, she could just read them and be reminded of something so stunningly beautiful that her heart would swell and her bones would sigh and for just a second, the world would not seem like it was going to crush her.” 

So far, this vacation (holiday, if I were British) has been amazing. 

Because: Bleah Briann, raw fish, segway rides, and bookish things.

Bleah: my super amazing penpal lives in Houston. I had a layover in Houston. So, the day I left, I called Bleah, emailed back and forth, got permission from all three sets of parents, and it happened; I actually got to meet Bleah. It was like, basically the best experience ever. We actually hugged, and we talked about silly things. We were actually together, in person, face to face, for a little while. Now I can for real say that I miss her, cause I've met her. 

You bloggers will understand what it was like. Think of your very favorite blogger, the one who comments all the time, your virtual best friend. Imagine meeting this person. 


That was what it was like meeting Bleah. There was lots of squealing and hugging involved. Definitely something I never thought I'd get to do.

Raw fish: since we're in a tropical island and all, the first day I decided that I should try some local food. Local food being, in this case, fish. 

Here's the deal. I hate fish. I really, really hate fish. It's not an, I'll-only-eat-fresh-fish-from-the-mountains-of-Colorado sort of thing, because I rarely eat that, even if it's available. I never ate the fresh catfish and bass when we had a fish fry at Grandma's house. Last month, I had shrimp for the first time. 

I'm just not a fish person. 

On the huge fish platter I ordered: calamari (octopus- marking it off my bucket list), red snapper, shrimp (which was totally predictable) and ceviche.  The red snapper was good and not fishy. The calamari was good and not octopusy. The shrimp was normal. The ceviche... 

Well. It tasted like lime and cilantro. The consistency was different. Stringy. Chewy. Raw, I guess. It was a good experience. I'm not sick yet, which should count for something. 

Segwaying: this was so amazing. So. Amazing. We toured old San Juan city on segways. And really? It was so much fun. Like, I don't even know how to describe to you how much I enjoyed it.

We decided that I'm not very adept at applying sunscreen. I mean, there's sunburn shaped like a continent on my left hand. There's a big sprawly patch of burn on the back of my right leg, with one little dot of white where I got the sunscreen. Personally, I like it- kinda. It doesn't hurt. The lines aren't weird enough to be embarrassing. It feels like summer finally.

The part about the books: because my best friend's family is amazing (favorite adjective, I guess...) before we left for PR we went to the biggest Barnes & Nobles I've ever seen. It was beautiful.

This is fun because my little sister walked away with the first two Hunger Games. I'm so excited for her to read them so we can talk about the books...the casting decisions...all that fun stuff.

Ali bought my favorite Sarah Dessen book, which makes me happy because I like to talk about the books I like with someone who's read them.

And both of them are reading the Book Thief.

Here's the thing about the Book Thief. It's one of my favorite, favorite books ever. I know that I say everything is my favorite, (I exaggerate way too much) but this one really is. This book is gripping. The story is sad and enchanting and beautiful and heart-breaking. It's written like no other book I've ever read. Finishing it, you sit there feeling empty and full all at the same time.

I'm excited they're reading this because no one I know has read this. I'm excited to gush over Rudy and talk about the best parts of the book. I want to walk up to Anna in the half-breath stillness after the last word in the book. I want to tell them both that I cried too.

I can't wait to have someone to talk to about the book, in real life.

What's going on with you? Spring break? School? I'm loving hearing what you think about the British/American debate. Very amusing. 

Have a lovely Friday!

post script: unedited pictures, all of them. don't judge.

post script two: blogger is being stupid and the formatting is jank. just ignore the weird spacing and the text size changing. 

23 March 2011

The British VS American Dilemma. (guest post by Bleah Briann)

While Katie is away on some amazing vacation, she has left Libby and I to contemplate a rather touchy and probing question. Seriously guys, y'all should lend an ear. This is important, very, very important. What is this "dilemma"?
British boys vs American boys: which is better?
Told ya' it was pretty important.
Before I make my case, I just wanted to get one thing set with y'all so you didn't get any crazy ideas about me.
I'm a 16 year old, Christian, American. I have as much patriotism as the next guy. I respect this country's beginnings, what it was built on. I respect what we stand for and I respect every person who fought for our freedom. I am grateful for freedom, liberty, and justice. The pursuit of happiness is a fantastic concept. I have nothing against this country...
Another thing you should know is that I'm waiting on the man God has for me. I believe that I was born for someone and someone was born for me. Wasting my time on other people... dating, seems worthless and pointless. I'm not flirty or anything like that, but I was asked to post on my personal taste.

When I'm older, of marrying age -- what do I find more attractive. British boys, or American boys.
I don't think this is hard to figure out...
English accents...
plain old regular... American?
Ties and jeans?
pants on the ground?

Well spoken, intelligent vocabulary, and proper behavior?
Someone who can't figure out that no one wants to see your chewing
I'm not saying that all British boys are perfect, or that all American boys are slobs. I understand that there's a mixture. I guess it's just the class... the whimsy... the adorableness.

If we're being serious, I feel like most American boys are players. They're just looking for some pretty girl to have and then toss to the way side.

British guys... (speaking as if I know any, which I don't actually) seem to have more standards. Perhaps this is just movies, books, and stereotypes talking. I don't know. But -- hey, it's my 16 year old naive view. Take it or leave it.
In the end I'm just me...
Bleah Briann. @ ~With Love and Kisses~
Come check me out if you have nothing better to do on a rainy day. :)
Much Love.

20 March 2011

dear charlie: a letter from the girls.

Well. These next few posts are so girly that you wouldn't believe it. When I told my big brother the plans for this three post series, he told me how girly my blog is. Which is not necessarily true. Usually we don't talk about girly things. This week is a complete, total exception.

I leave for Puerto Rico today, and while I'm gone, I have a few posts dealing with a big, important issue.

British or American boys?

Let's call him Sam. I was eight, living in England. Our neighborhood was wild and amazing. My family, the only white people. An Asian family next door. Everyone else, Pakistani. Down and across the street was St. Margarete's, a Church of England church.

Sam was the vicar's son.

Actually, Sam was the bobby, but for the purpose of this story, we're gonna call the vicar's son Sam and forget about the bobby. I don't remember vicar's-son-Sam's real name, so this will have to do.

I liked Sam for all of the eight months we lived there. If I remember correctly, he was my brother's age. Dark hair. Big smile. And...that's about all I remember. But I liked him.

The only other British boy I remember was Nicolas. He was younger than me. My best British friend's little brother. That's about it.

(Tangent: when we moved to England I was terrified that I wouldn't have any friends. I mean, really, we beat the British in the Revolutionary War. All the British girls would hate me.)

(That's not what happened, by the way. I had many very good British, not to mention Pakistani, friends while I lived there.)

British boys in the media...well, that's a different story. Mr. Darcy? Gilbert Blythe- who technically isn't British, but almost? Edmund Pevensie? Peter Pan?

All perfect. 

And then there are American boys.

They are basically amazing, for the most part. I have so many guy friends who are fantastic, amazing people. I made several really good (American) guy friends this summer.

I like most of the American boys I know. I have several really good American guy friends. Then there's the stereotype of a British boy. Compared to that of an American boy, the American doesn't stand a chance. 

Most American girls who think that they would love to find an amazing British guy probably don't know any British people.

I think that it's all about the stereotype. American boys, break the stereotype. We know you're not always sloppy and lazy. Show us. British boys, well, take advantage of the stereotype. Be a gentleman. Be kind and considerate.

The main difference: the accent. Oh, the accent. That, dear American males, is why every girl wishes she knew a British boy. Or, I suppose, there's my brother, who mastered the British/Pakistani British accent while we lived in Europe.

Your thoughts? Later this week there will be posts by a British girl and an American girl sharing what they think.

17 March 2011

fly. (eighteen happy things.)

Listening to: Falling in Love at a Coffee Shop by Landon Pigg. 
Quote love:  "Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return." Da Vinci.

The sweetest note from Natalie. And the card (above). It's my favorite.
Shopping for Bleah's birthday present.

Our old blue bike. It's my favorite.

Shopping on Tuesday: new boots, dresses, and shirts. Grandma, you're amazing. 

Three packages today, with the best things inside. 

It's strawberry season. How many strawberries can I fit into/onto this particular food?

"There was no one to howl at!" "I wasn't howling!" I wasn't howling, I promise. Also, that's a story you have to hear sometime. 

Oh-so-very-true fortune cookies. How do they do that?

Acquire the Fire weekend. Highlights: a) Ali's brother won at the BFF Sleepover Star game. It was him and five girls. The prize? A Justin Bieber bear. b) homemade Heath bar lattes. c) basically the entire event. it was amazing. 

The fact that, what with 1.8 aperture and manual focus, I have no idea how to use my brand new 50mm lens. Oh yes. It's so, so amazing. The bokeh is wild and crazy. All my pictures are blurry. It's a learning experience.

They cast Katniss! Not so sure about Jennifer Lawrence, though. As one blogger put it, she looks like a Barbie and Katniss is the kind of girl who would beat up a Barbie. Thoughts? 

I'm Irish. No one bothered to inform me of this until oh, last week. 

The post I wrote earlier today involving, mostly, British accents. You can keep an eye open for that one over the weekend.

The sunshine. Oh my goodness, the sunshine. It is beautiful. 

Eight new library books. 
Slowly working my way through my "to-do before Puerto Rico" list. Two days left!

When real live people who I actually know read my blog. Especially the ones not related to me.

Starbucks cake on a stick. Best idea ever.

I feel like it's been so long since I've posted. Really, the only solution is photos and lists. Catching up gets overwhelming after a week of nothing. 

I'll have a few guest posts and a scheduled one from me while I'm gone on holiday. Have an amazing weekend...and an amazing week while I'm gone!

What are your two, three, or eighteen happy things?

08 March 2011

girl who reads.

Listening to: In This Life by Switchfoot. 
Quote love: "I stepped into the bookshop and breathed in that perfume of paper and magic that strangely no one had ever thought of bottling." Carlos Ruiz Zafon 

(yuck photo. not the best I've ever taken.)

There are the books and there is the sister. And in those books are hundreds of hours of childhood, of continents and countries and turning ten and turning thirteen and just last year when I discovered a new favorite.

Words are powerful. I'm learning this everyday, it seems. (Finished Bird by Bird last week. Amazing book.)

There are so many books piling of my bookcase. There are the books downstairs that I moved because they just aren't my thing any more. There are close to fifty books crammed on little sister 2's bookshelves, the books I loved and outgrew.

I don't have a favorite sister. I never have, and I don't intend to.

(However, if I was going for sister points, I would say Anna, because I know for sure that she is The Only One who reads this.)

My closest sister is Anna. Closest in age (I'm older), closest in height (I'm shorter), closer in looks (that was her a few posts back, not me), and my very first best friend.

We couldn't be more different.

Actually, we probably could, but hyperbole feels good right now.

This girl has never read, a) all of Anne, b) more than the first thirteen pages of the Book Thief, c) the whole Series of Unfortunate Events, and d) Alice in Wonderland.

Those are favorites. For real, long time favorites.

So. I told her I was gonna make a summer reading list for her, and we'd go out to Starbucks if she finished it. Any suggestions? I'm thinking difficult stuff: lots of Shakespeare, Bronte, Austen.

You probably didn't know this: when I was nine-ten I was on a Shakespeare kick. It may have had something to do with going to his house, or the fact that I bought an abridged set of plays from my brother, not knowing it was abridged. Then I bought his teeny tiny leather bound copy of Twelfth Night and kept that for years. For my tenth birthday I was given a Midsummer's Nights Dream and the Merchant of Venice. Late at night when we were supposed to be asleep, I would walk around our room reading Shakespeare out loud and she would tell me to go to sleep.

So what books do you think should be on the list? What books have you read that you can't imagine having not read?

"Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

"Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag. She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.

"She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book. 

"Buy her another cup of coffee. 
"Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

"It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does. 

"She has to give it a shot somehow. 
"Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

"Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

"Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilight series. 

"If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are. 
"You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. 

"Over Skype.

"You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

"Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads." by Rosemary Urquico, via.

07 March 2011

a perpetual state of happy.

Listening to: Long Live by Taylor Swift. 
Quote love: "When you make a list, you should always add some things that you've already done or that are easy to do so that you can cross them off and feel good about yourself. And then your list is already half done and you feel super productive."

I really like life right now. School is going great, I have a lot to look forward to within the next few months, I had apple-and-crunchy-peanut-butter-and-fudge crepes for dessert (I promise that's the last time I mention crepes. Honest and truely), and I'm pretty much prepared for my Big Big Test on Wednesday.

I'm turning into one of those people who is annoyingly happy all the time and they won't shut up about how awesome their life is.

Well, my life is pretty awesome.

(if you're follower #142, PLEASE send me a comment so I can stop by your blog. for some freakish reason Blogger won't load my followers page, and it won't load the gadget on my blog. thanks so much :)

05 March 2011

the post without a point.

Listening to: friend laughter. Best.Sound.Ever.
Quote love: "Life is an awful, ugly place to not have a best friend." and, "There is nothing better than a friend, unless it is a friend with chocolate." (she brought chocolate.)

This is mostly about crepes (they were delicious; second time in a week), my best friend hanging out tonight, the fact that it's been raining all week, and this conversation: 

Me: "Guys, what if I do get my nose pierced and it looks ugly?"
Sister: "Well, guess you'll have to live with it."
Best friend: "You'll have to take it out and have a hole in your nose forever."

I just love the sympathy. And yes, I'm thinking about getting my nose pierced. I have the parents' ok, they would pay for it (birthday present!) and now I just have to decide. It's basically the hardest decision of my life. Yes or no?

I'm not scared, really. I mean (this is a weird story) a couple years ago I double pierced my own ear. It was an accident, but I kept it because it's different and I have an excuse to wear a diamond in my ear.

So yes or no on the nose? I'm leaning towards yes...I just can't decide.

Hope you have a great weekend!

03 March 2011

oh, sisters.

Listening to: Open Up Your Eyes by Daughtry.
Quote love: "And always remember how much your crazy sister loves you."

Ok. Here's the deal. HarperTeen is giving away a Tiffany bracelet and a signed copy of Delirium to the winner of this contest. I really, really want to win.

Guys, it's a Tiffany bracelet.

SO you should probably go over to here and click the like button. I will be so grateful! Also, please ignore the cheesy description. I was just trying to make the judges go awww. I didn't even realize that it was the kind of contest where actual people, not just a random someone in a HarperTeen office, would be judging it.


Sisters make me smile. Especially the little one with the crazy hair and the Nutella all over her face. She's the cause of eighty percent of my laughs today.

Yesterday: book shopping. I ended up getting Bird by Bird and Writing to Change the World. I love new books. Today: lens shopping. I'm thinking a wide angle lens, but I'm not for sure yet. I really just can't wait to buy one and get it here so I can start using it.

The Brugge Brasserie was soo good. Frites (which is fancy Dutch for french fries) were my favorite Dutch food. There? Delicious. They even came in little stripey cones like they do in Holland. Mom's crepes are better, but the frites were just sososo delicious.

Anything fun going on?