Songs You Need To Hear

I love music. I mean, who doesn't?
And I know I have a good song in my hands when it makes me want to dance.  Ah, good music. I love it! Anyway.

Here are a few songs I'm currently obsessed with! Enjoy!

Christina Perri- The Lonely

Nicki Minaj- Super Bass

Hot Chelle Rae- I Like To Dance

 Maroon 5- Runaway

So, you have to like at least ONE of those. Do any of them make you want to dance? Super Bass realllllyyyy makes me want to dance and so does The Lonely. (I FREAKIN' LOVE CHRISTINA PERRI!)

Do you have a favorite artist? If you do, share. Please. Because, like I said, I love music. :]

-Grey

Books I Obviously Need to Read:

I have a nice long book list, but people keep on telling me to read these books. Since they're so popular, they shouldn't be hard to find, but I have yet to read a single one this summer. (ignores all the shocked gasp)

I'll let you in on a little secret: I've only read three books in four months.

My own jaw just hit the floor.
Yeah, talk about readers block. I'd usually have about 10 books done by now. WHAT THE CRAP IS WRONG WITH ME?!?!?!

Maybe I should ban myself from the computer for a week and only read books. Hey, that might work.  Haha, just kidding. I'd die.

Anyway, here is the list of books I need to read and you might want to read also. I'll update you {IF I EVER FREAKIN' READ ANY ONE THEM} (throws fit)

1. Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins

I'm sure the whole world has heard about these books by now. They're now up there with Harry Potter and Twilight. Surprisingly, unlike H.P and The Twilight, I haven't heard much hating on the Hunger Games. You know what I mean. H.P is 'full of dangerous witch-craft, blah, blah, blah....' Go shove a sock it. (Wow, I'm sweet.) And Twilight, well, actually, I don't really like Twilight. It's brilliant writing, just not my type of story. I don't go well with the:
"I'm so in love with you. If you leave, I'll die."
"I love you."
"I love you more."
"I love you even more."
"You're so freakin' amazing."
"I'm leaving."
"What?!?!?!" (dies of depression.) (<--If only.)
In other words, I found Bella on a whole 'nother level of pathetic.
Anyway, back to the list.

#2- Clockwork Angels by Cassandra Clare

 I liked her other books, The Mortal Instruments Series, so I expect good things out of this book.

#3- Tex by S.E Hinton

So, I love The Outsiders. Just in case you didn't know, S.E Hinton wrote The Outsiders. Can you connect the dots? I'm going to love this book.

#4- Incarceron by Catharine Fisher

I've heard it's good. I've heard it's bad. I just want to read it. Enough said.



Wow. That list was shorter than I thought. Well, good thing, because I'm running out of time. I got places to be! (Yes, I might actually, strong on the might, have a life.)

Bye!

-Grey

The Sorry Lives of Margie and Beatrix: A Blog Story

{Because, even though I won't admit it, I do like some crappy, teen romance... If you couldn't tell, I was/am bored. }

{The Sorry Lives of Margie and Beatrix} [Chapter 1: To Go or Not To Go

"That must be it, there are a ton of people there,"
Margie looked up from the old, worn-out book in her lap, glasses on the tip of her pointed nose. Margie, if looked upon by a stranger, would have been mistaken for a skinny, frail thirty year old liberian. At least, that's what I thought.

Unlike most of the girls at our high school, she wore baggy capris, flower blouses she found in the little girls section of some thrift shop and always had her frizzy brown hair pulled back into a lopsided braid. You'd never be able to tell she was my best friend if it wasn't for the fact that we were always together, no matter what.

She lived next door to me, always had. When we first met, we were only five, but as soon as we found out we both were cursed with terrible names that would forever be made fun of,, we quickly became friends. Our names soon became almost one. You didn't say one with out the other following behind. The whole neighborhood knew us, Margie and Beatrix, the two girls from Beam Road, never seen with out the other. It has always been that way and always will.

Margie chewed thoughtfully on a piece of gum while I eased the car to a stop at a stoplight. After a moment of silence, which wasn't uncommon with Margie, she blurted out, "I don't want to go."

I was shocked.
Let me explain the whole situation here. Margie and I were on a way to a birthday party. Let me tell you something: Margie and I are never invited to anything by our fellow highschoolers. It's no surprise. Margie has a chest as flat as the African plains and I act more like a boy than any girl.  Basically, we're number -25 on the 'coolness list', which if you don't know how the 'coolness list', is pretty dang low. And people wonder why I hate high school.

Anyway, the fact that we were invited to party in the first place is such a huge deal that my stomach is twisted in giant, sailor tied knots as I drive down the road to our destination. What took those knots and tightened them was the fact that it wasn't some Runescape playing nerd who lived in the basement's party, but an actual, sun-touched person. That person, to be exact, was Rebecca Nolton.  Rebecca runs the school. Not in some preppy, party, cheerleader girl sort of way. No, she runs it because she's so freaking brilliant and smartand she's model material. She has all three of the gifts! How unfair is that?

I still think we were invited to the party on accident. Margie and I had been sitting at a picnic table in The Beach Towel, the long stretch of grass and brightly decorated sidewalks that sat smack dab in the middle of our high school. It had been given the nickname, The Beach Towel, because it basically looked like one. Rectangle with crazy designs.

Margie was busy devouring a science magazine while chomping away on pretzels, while I studied my World History textbook like my life depended on it, because it did. Finals were never my thing. Suddenly, three guys, all wearing some variation of the same shirt, burst out into The Beach Towel, stacks of papers in their arms. I immediately recognized them to be Rebecca's twin brother, Grant, and his two best friends, Lucas and Dean.

Before we knew it, flyers advertising Rebecca's birthday party were flying everywhere. A mummer swept through once dead silent Beach Towel as everyone received a invite. Margie and I shrugged and went back to reading. We didn't expect to be invited. We both froze in shock as a flyer floated down to our table as Grant walked by.

"I think you dropped one!" I shouted once I realized what had happened.

"I don't care, keep it. Don't forget to save the date," he said, not even glancing back to see who it was that he had left the invite with. I'm sure if he did and saw Margie and me sitting there, staring at the invite, he would have come rushing back, babbling  some lame-ass excuse.

Okay, I know this is sounding like typical high school drama. I would probably gaging right now if it was someone else telling the story, but when it's you who is experiencing it; it's totally different.

So, this, after a nice long explanation, is why I was shocked. I had spent a hour digging through my clothes, which consisted of basketball shorts, soccer shorts, jogging shorts and every available pair of shorts you can find in the Dick's Sporting Goods . I ended up grabbing an old pair of jeans, which were now too big since I had taken up jogging, a tee-shirt and my favorite hoodie. It was the best I could do, seeing as I was to ashamed to go ask my older sister, Kelsey, for any of her clothes.

"Margie," I said, "You can't back out now! I mean, we're fifty feet away!"

Margie's perfectly round finger nails flew up to her mouth as she mumbled something about being like everyone else. In a panic I let the car coast on by Rebecca's house at a creepy, stalker speed. If anyone was looking out the window (if they could see over all the cars parked everywhere), they'd be freaked out by some weird-o, driving 5 miles per hour in a piece of crap Volkswagen. I pull into a random drive way half-way down the road and turn to yell at Margie, like I always do.

"Margie, you have, like, five seconds to make up you're freakin' mind," I threaten, " And, if you don't want to go, you can get out, I don't care."

It was a lie. I wouldn't go anywhere, let alone a party, without Margie. She was my lifeline, even if she did embarrass me at times. And Margie knew it as well. She gave me one of those looks that said, "Yeah, right. That'll happen as soon as I become prom queen, get a boyfriend and get rich. All at the same time."

Margie glanced out the window at the Nolton's, her lips turned into a full frown. No one can frown like her, no one. It's like someone to her smile and made it do a 180. Her frown almost made you want to frown.

"I just feel like we're trying to hard to, you know, fit in," she whispers. I roll my eyes. Who wasn't? High school was about fitting in, right? And Margie, even though she wasn't acting like it now, wanted to fit in too. Many nights, while spending the night at each others house, we had talked about what it would like to be more than some poorly dressed wall flowers. Now we were finally doing something about it and she was backing out! Unbelievable!

"Don't be an idiot,"I snap.

"I'm not being an idiot!"

"You're acting like one."

Margie glares at me,"What do you think we're accomplishing going to a party we were possibly not even invited to?"

"We were invited..."

Margie scoffs and shakes the orange invite we received weeks ago in front of my face, the scowl is worse than ever. She jerks her head towards the Nolton's house.

"We have never been to invited to a party before and now, magically, were on the list? I think not! Last time I checked, Rebecca didn't even know we existed. I swear, Beatrix, think!"

I hated to admit it, but Margie was right. We were most likely not invited to the party and if we showed up and anyone actually noticed, we'd get some strange looks. If Rebecca found out, we'd probably be shot, shoved in extra strength trash bags and buried out in the middle of the woods somewhere, since their yard was too good for us.

I shot Margie one of my angry, "You're right, but I'm not stupid." looks. She recognized it immediately and turned her scowl into a coy smile.

"So, just turn this piece of junk around and let's head back home before anyone sees us. I'm already embarrassed."

Like she was one to talk.
 After I heave out a loud sigh, I put the car in reverse and rushed on by the Nolton's house, hoping no one saw us. It didn't take us long to get home, nuke some popcorn, throw on some crazy, low-budget movie and sit on our lazy butts for the rest of the afternoon, doing what we usual did every Saturday.

If I had known what I do now, I would slap myself, because going to the party might have made life much, much easier. Going to the party might have caused us temporary embarrassment, but not going, well, that would cost a whole lot of heartache and even a friendship.

Word to the wise: Never listen to your smart friends, because maybe they're not that smart after all.



{Haha! I hope you sort of enjoyed at the least. :D I figured my blog is for me to 'vent' on and just be me, which is hard to do, so, I'm writing a stupid, teen dramance. Yeah, don't hate. lol Haters don't get no love.

I'll try to keep The Sorry Lives updated! Thanks for reading!

-Grey}

The List of Love and Hate

My list of things I love and things I hate. This should be fun. ;]


We'll start with the list of things I love (because it's much happier).

I love...
-Music
-Food
-Sitting in waterfalls
-Hiking
-Sitting in the sun after a long day of work
-Movies
-ICE CREAM (God's gift to women)
-Anything that has to do with monkeys
-Animals (even though the dumb things won't shut up.)
-Woods/Forest
-My laptop
-When I finally clean my room. (Crap, I need to do that.)
-My skin colors( that sounds vain...but it's not. I mean that I have dark skin, because I'm interracial, so I don't sunburn easily.
-Photography
-Sitting on my big, fat BUM!
-My iPod Touch.
-My kick-ass camera.
-Getting a kiss from a dog when you're down in the dumps.
-My family
-The accomplished feeling of working out
-Wendy's (Mmmmmmmm)
-Days off work
-Dance
-Realllly hot guys, with abs. I know none of those. Crud.
-Getting an A on a test when you thought you failed.
-Being spontaneous
-Sleeping in till 12:00. Hell yeah!
-Ending of list-

The list of things I hate, which will be very depressing...
I hate...
-That I'm a depressing person
-That I have a hard time just being me, even on a blog FREAKIN' MADE FOR THAT REASON.
-Not doing the job right.
-Worrying. I do it too much.
-This one sounds terrible, but it's true. I hate going to our current church. I don't know how else to say it. I use to belong to this totally amazing church and the one we're at...well, every time I leave...I feel angry. They judge. They teach their kids to judge. They can be huge hypocrites. They are so..., I don't want to use the word 'old-fashioned', but let's just say a certain member doesn't believe in dancing. DANCING. It's what I do PEOPLE. Anyway, end rant.
-When my boss calls me on a Sunday night, at 9:00, saying she'll need me for work tomorrow. She can't forget every single week.
-Perfect friends, who say they like you, but you know very well they don't.
-Trying to be seen.
-Not being seen and remaining a wall flower.
-Puke.
-End of the depressing list-

Yeah, yeah, I went from happy, joy-joy to JUST KILL ME NOW! xD Anyway, that's me, right there, in a list. I hope you enjoy.

</end my emotional teenage girl blog post>

-Grey-

The Perfect Place For This Dreamer...

It would be located in the woods, squeezed in between towering trees, with beautiful, green canopies. The sun would pour in through the leaves, leaving dots of golden light on the ground. You'd hear the steady trickle of a brooke or the roar of a river, not too far away.

The ground would always be soft and moist from the well-timed rain. And plants would flourish around the walls of my house, a quite cottage or log house. Rocking chairs would saw in the soft breeze that blows through the woods, as if someone rocked back and forth in them, enjoying the soft breeze. 

There would be a producing garden, with swelling tomatoes, nice, long squash, sweet cucumbers, huge heads of lettuce and potatoes, waiting to be found. There would be a small, stone wall that surround the house and garden, with a wooden gate built into it. 

A beautiful Irish Wolfhound would be bounding through the yard, dodging ever every plant, fruit and vegetable, knowing a sharp voice would cry out if it dared trample a single plant. A lean, black cat would be stretched out on the wall, bright yellow eyes catching the rays of sunlight, cutting their way through the leaves. A horse will wander through the yard, on it's way back to it's stable, standing behind the the house. 

A chimney will have a string of smoke, circling up out of it's belly. A fire will be going, flicking it's orange tongue at anyone who dares to near it. A pot of water will bubble over top of it, preparing to let out a long, high whistle. 

I will be sitting there, curled up in a big lounge chair. Smile on my face, notebook in hand, a cat in my lap and a dog at my feet. 

If I could have this dream, my dreams would only grow bigger, because they have room to roam and run free. In these walls, they're trapped, by all they can see. 

Grey

My Mood In A Picture

Yeah, I've finally went jogging. :] I'm so out of shape, but it feels good to work out. I have no stamina, that's for sure.

~GrEy~

Tucker.

Tucker, born in a dream,

searched for in life. 

His blurry image forever present,

haunting me in between thoughts. 

I told him to come, 

I told him to show himself to me,

but he never did. 

Tucker, now a liar and a cheater,

a person I never met, 

now my enemy. 

I told him how I felt, 

I told him what he had done, 

but he never cared.

Tucker, the boy in my dream,

how did you appear,

how did you become?

Tucker, oh, Tucker,

leave me be. 

Yeah, yeah, lame poem, but it's for one of my stories. It was 'written' by Jessica, one of the characters. This story hasn't made it far on paper, but I like the idea of it. It's really complicated too. Way too complicated. It's got ME confused. That's pretty bad, isn't it? 

Jessica is an interesting character too. I'm having that hardest time figuring her out, which isn't good. I mean, she is my main character. Well, this is one of MANY stories. I have a butt load of unfinished stories. Luckily, the one I'm working on now, which is not the one with Tucker and Jessica, is going pretty well. I have been outlining the plot, which I've never really done before. Pray for me. XD

Oh, and if you're wondering, yes, I'm writing this one my NEW, TOTALLY AWESOME laptop. Exciting, right? 

Also, check out Julian Smith . He makes me laugh my butt off. Yeah, he's hilarious. Here is one of my favorite videos of his: 

Pretty funny. :] 

Have a good day!

Grey