Posts
art things to remember:
Music saved me from sports
Your kung-fu is shit
Deviantart password
mourning-november
things to look up:
Only four seasons
Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman
city of glass
nouvelle vague
Joseph D'Anvers
the last Olympian
unvollendete
the hunger games
I thought I had died - the War
Canadian Parents For French
things to make:
spaghetti with eggplant, zuchini, and meat tomato sauce, plus eat it with chopsticks
cinnamon pancakes to be layered with blueberry sauce, whipped cream, and sprinkled cinnamon before serving
things to do:
pick paint for my room
paint my room
decide on cat name
get a cat
find furniture
go to the dump
fix up 'studio'
divide books in half
move out
swim loads
look into Quebec exchanged
write my arrow stuff
work on chasing julian
edit April's character
come up with six good characters
Monday, July 27, 2009
Saturday, July 18, 2009
chapter one
Chapter One:
In which we find our young heroine enjoying her first almost full day in the big city, and not wasting a moment of it.
I'm very much so to make this statement true. I will make the most of my time in Prague, and I will live it up to the best of my ability, especially since I don't know when I'll be here next. Three years, at the least, I'd say. I'll see you then, dearest Praha. From the Charles Bridge to the Old Town, to Katka's apartment, to everything else. Show me everything you've got.
End chapter one. Stop.
In which we find our young heroine enjoying her first almost full day in the big city, and not wasting a moment of it.
I'm very much so to make this statement true. I will make the most of my time in Prague, and I will live it up to the best of my ability, especially since I don't know when I'll be here next. Three years, at the least, I'd say. I'll see you then, dearest Praha. From the Charles Bridge to the Old Town, to Katka's apartment, to everything else. Show me everything you've got.
End chapter one. Stop.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
do you want a picture, or a cookie?
I thought I should give anyone who sees this a nice little visual reward. Aren't we all just caught up in our different ribbons. Would you prefer a picture, or a cookie? Good dog.
all my czech
I've been reading Jane Austen, whose writing is making my own dreadfully formal and proper. It's a shame, really, as I much preferred the old, casual, bad English that I used to practice. English is one thing, but Czech is a whole other (see that smooth transition? Now that is quality)!
The Czech words I know, a list by Erika Loggin
Ahoj - hello
Dobry den - good day
Mam se dobre - I'm good
Ja taky - me too
Jahoda - strawberry
Zmrzlina - ice cream
Tak - so
Tady - here
Jsem - I am
To je - it is
To neni - it isn't
Pravda - true
Legrace - funny
Bezva - very good
Zmatek - a mess
Nahoda - a coincidence
V poradku - Okay
V - in
S - with
Maslo - butter
Chleba - bread
Houska - bun
Syr - cheese
Caj - tea
Kava - coffee
Krava - cow
Pes - dog
Nebo - or
Ale - but
Nevin - I don't know
Nerozumim - I don't understand
Rozumim - I understand
Cesky - Czech
Anglicky - English
I think there might be a few more, but without the use of accents hardly anything is understandable anyways. I should wear a big sign on my back saying "PLEASE DO NOT ENGAGE IN CONVERSATION". Psh, as if I could learn how to say that.
The Czech words I know, a list by Erika Loggin
Ahoj - hello
Dobry den - good day
Mam se dobre - I'm good
Ja taky - me too
Jahoda - strawberry
Zmrzlina - ice cream
Tak - so
Tady - here
Jsem - I am
To je - it is
To neni - it isn't
Pravda - true
Legrace - funny
Bezva - very good
Zmatek - a mess
Nahoda - a coincidence
V poradku - Okay
V - in
S - with
Maslo - butter
Chleba - bread
Houska - bun
Syr - cheese
Caj - tea
Kava - coffee
Krava - cow
Pes - dog
Nebo - or
Ale - but
Nevin - I don't know
Nerozumim - I don't understand
Rozumim - I understand
Cesky - Czech
Anglicky - English
I think there might be a few more, but without the use of accents hardly anything is understandable anyways. I should wear a big sign on my back saying "PLEASE DO NOT ENGAGE IN CONVERSATION". Psh, as if I could learn how to say that.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
lonely cowboy
Lonely cowboy,
I wonder who will make a statue of you?
An ex girlfriend, perhaps
still enchanted by your Southern drawl.
It doesn't really matter, anyways,
you'd just end up in a park somewhere,
collecting moss and pigeon shit for the rest of your days.
It's no kind of life for your sort,
you who should be out wrangling and lassoing,
doing whatever else cowboys do.
But after all of your wild adventures
will your memories make you
any less lonely?
I wonder who will make a statue of you?
An ex girlfriend, perhaps
still enchanted by your Southern drawl.
It doesn't really matter, anyways,
you'd just end up in a park somewhere,
collecting moss and pigeon shit for the rest of your days.
It's no kind of life for your sort,
you who should be out wrangling and lassoing,
doing whatever else cowboys do.
But after all of your wild adventures
will your memories make you
any less lonely?
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
high time for tea time
It was that time of year again, Mrs Green Tea noted. The nights were getting longer, and the days were getting colder. Just the type of weather that made people want to huddle up indoors with a nice, steaming cup of tea. She braced herself against the wind. It could chill you to the bone if you didn't dress properly. Yes, Mrs Green Tea thought, it was definitely time to have a talk with her children.
The three tea children were very different. Earl Grey, the oldest, was hardly a child at all. She always wore sensible clothing, and kept her hair pinned up in a bun. Mrs Green Tea smiled warmly as her daughter opened the door for her, closing the door quickly after her to keep the heat in, and promptly returning to the stove to prepare dinner. She was always very mature, and was generally liked most by those who were like her.
Rooibos was the youngest. He was sweet, and funny, and liked by almost everyone--particularly those who didn't really appreciate his often bitter sister, or earthy mother. He whizzed down the stairs, calling a quick hello to his Mama and stealing a bite of the dessert, before whizzing back up. He was always at his best after a little cream and sugar, Mrs Green Tea thought, smiling and remembering how alike Rooibos and his cousin Chai were.
Then there was her middle child--Fruit Tea. He was sitting at the table, doing his homework, dressed in a bright purple shirt. Fruit Tea definitely had a hard time in life. His friends differed a lot, from little kids who didn't particularly care for the rest of the Tea family, to old ladies who liked to have him over on Sunday afternoon. It was especially difficult for him to find friends his own age since he had come out of the closet earlier that year, and a lot of teenagers weren't very accepting. He looked up and smiled when his mother entered the room, then returned to his homework while Rooibos zoomed in the door and started setting the table like Earl Grey had asked him to hours ago, according to her.
Mrs Green Tea put away the groceries she had been out shopping for, and took her place at the head of the table. Earl Grey waited until everyone was seated, and started loading everyone's plates with sensible portions, that allowed for them to have more if they so chose. She was very smart like that. Yes, Mrs Green Tea thought, her children certainly were unique individuals. She was happy to see that they were all doing well, especially after a messy divorce with their father, and her husband Coffee a few years ago. They just weren't right for each other.
"Enjoy," Earl Grey said quietly, sitting down and taking a small bite out of one of her scones. That's what the Tea family ate for every meal--scones, biscuits, cookies, miniature sandwiches and cakes, the usual. Mrs Green Tea smiled again and spread some jam on her scone. She would save her talk for later that night.
The three tea children were very different. Earl Grey, the oldest, was hardly a child at all. She always wore sensible clothing, and kept her hair pinned up in a bun. Mrs Green Tea smiled warmly as her daughter opened the door for her, closing the door quickly after her to keep the heat in, and promptly returning to the stove to prepare dinner. She was always very mature, and was generally liked most by those who were like her.
Rooibos was the youngest. He was sweet, and funny, and liked by almost everyone--particularly those who didn't really appreciate his often bitter sister, or earthy mother. He whizzed down the stairs, calling a quick hello to his Mama and stealing a bite of the dessert, before whizzing back up. He was always at his best after a little cream and sugar, Mrs Green Tea thought, smiling and remembering how alike Rooibos and his cousin Chai were.
Then there was her middle child--Fruit Tea. He was sitting at the table, doing his homework, dressed in a bright purple shirt. Fruit Tea definitely had a hard time in life. His friends differed a lot, from little kids who didn't particularly care for the rest of the Tea family, to old ladies who liked to have him over on Sunday afternoon. It was especially difficult for him to find friends his own age since he had come out of the closet earlier that year, and a lot of teenagers weren't very accepting. He looked up and smiled when his mother entered the room, then returned to his homework while Rooibos zoomed in the door and started setting the table like Earl Grey had asked him to hours ago, according to her.
Mrs Green Tea put away the groceries she had been out shopping for, and took her place at the head of the table. Earl Grey waited until everyone was seated, and started loading everyone's plates with sensible portions, that allowed for them to have more if they so chose. She was very smart like that. Yes, Mrs Green Tea thought, her children certainly were unique individuals. She was happy to see that they were all doing well, especially after a messy divorce with their father, and her husband Coffee a few years ago. They just weren't right for each other.
"Enjoy," Earl Grey said quietly, sitting down and taking a small bite out of one of her scones. That's what the Tea family ate for every meal--scones, biscuits, cookies, miniature sandwiches and cakes, the usual. Mrs Green Tea smiled again and spread some jam on her scone. She would save her talk for later that night.
why I shouldn't be allowed to watch romance movies
If you don't know me, you should know this. Even if you do know me, but you don't know this about me, then you can pretty much assume that you don't really know me. What is this? I love romance movies. I'm sure that sounds lame, and girlly, but it's true.
I like everything from Bridget Jones Diary, to Love Actually (that's a bad example, though, as both are kind of similar). Anything with Hugh Grant is generally good too. I'm a sucker for a good love story. The Bronte sisters are the best, not to mention Jane Austin. Pride and Prejudice has to be among my favorite movies. This brings me to my topic, why I shouldn't be allowed to watch romance movies.
Last night I couldn't get to sleep, so at around 11:00 pm I decided to watch a movie. Not just any movie, either. Sense and Sensibility, by Jane Austin. Hugh Grant, in an entirely unlikely role, the woman from the Titanic, and Snape--what could be better? By the middle of the movie, it was a little predictable as to what would happen next, although there were a few twists. I loved Willoughby, and I was convinced that he and Marianne were made for each other. It was not to be so. I don't want to spoil the story for anyone, but I'm going to anyways, under the excuse of venting.
Apparently John Willoughby is the villain of the story, or so says Wikipedia (I needed to look up the spelling!). This is just plain unfair. After he left Marianne with hardly any notice for London, he married a wealthy woman for reasons which I don't feel like explaining at the moment. They met at a party in London after he had been away for some time and Marianne had been miserable, and he was very cold and unemotional. Basically, he was a jerk--but not all the time! When they were together at the beginning, and in love, he was very witty and charming. The sad, heart-wrenching ending?
At Marianne's wedding, at the end of the movie to Colonel Brandon, there was someone watching from the hill. Sitting on his horse on the hilltop over looking the wedding was Willoughby. Then he turned and rode off. Very sad. He still liked Marianne, but she was getting married to the wrong, older man, and he was married to that rich chick! That's basically the least poetic way possible to explain it, but it's all I've got.
Basically, watching that movie was like having someone cut open my chest, grab my heart with their bare hands (which would make all sorts of gross squelching noises; sorry, that's just what I thought of), threw it on the floor, stomped on it repeatedly, and then left it to die. Dramatic? That's what happens almost every time I read a love story, or watch a romance movie, and that is why I shouldn't be allowed to watch romance movies. Still, I love them, and I'm probably going to watch Sense and Sensibility again today, just to torture myself and Mr Willoughby a little bit more.
Love (is the ANSWER)
Erika
I like everything from Bridget Jones Diary, to Love Actually (that's a bad example, though, as both are kind of similar). Anything with Hugh Grant is generally good too. I'm a sucker for a good love story. The Bronte sisters are the best, not to mention Jane Austin. Pride and Prejudice has to be among my favorite movies. This brings me to my topic, why I shouldn't be allowed to watch romance movies.
Last night I couldn't get to sleep, so at around 11:00 pm I decided to watch a movie. Not just any movie, either. Sense and Sensibility, by Jane Austin. Hugh Grant, in an entirely unlikely role, the woman from the Titanic, and Snape--what could be better? By the middle of the movie, it was a little predictable as to what would happen next, although there were a few twists. I loved Willoughby, and I was convinced that he and Marianne were made for each other. It was not to be so. I don't want to spoil the story for anyone, but I'm going to anyways, under the excuse of venting.
Apparently John Willoughby is the villain of the story, or so says Wikipedia (I needed to look up the spelling!). This is just plain unfair. After he left Marianne with hardly any notice for London, he married a wealthy woman for reasons which I don't feel like explaining at the moment. They met at a party in London after he had been away for some time and Marianne had been miserable, and he was very cold and unemotional. Basically, he was a jerk--but not all the time! When they were together at the beginning, and in love, he was very witty and charming. The sad, heart-wrenching ending?
At Marianne's wedding, at the end of the movie to Colonel Brandon, there was someone watching from the hill. Sitting on his horse on the hilltop over looking the wedding was Willoughby. Then he turned and rode off. Very sad. He still liked Marianne, but she was getting married to the wrong, older man, and he was married to that rich chick! That's basically the least poetic way possible to explain it, but it's all I've got.
Basically, watching that movie was like having someone cut open my chest, grab my heart with their bare hands (which would make all sorts of gross squelching noises; sorry, that's just what I thought of), threw it on the floor, stomped on it repeatedly, and then left it to die. Dramatic? That's what happens almost every time I read a love story, or watch a romance movie, and that is why I shouldn't be allowed to watch romance movies. Still, I love them, and I'm probably going to watch Sense and Sensibility again today, just to torture myself and Mr Willoughby a little bit more.
Love (is the ANSWER)
Erika
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
my major problem
Let's face it, if you know me, or even if you don't, you should understand that I have a lot of problems. Don't take that the wrong way--I'm not institutionalized or anything. I guess I'm human. A particularly flawed human.
I could devote an entire blog to listing them, which isn't a bad idea (remember that, haters, I expect you to keep on top of things!). The major problem that I'm going to talk about in this post, however, is simple. I automatically assume that all hot guys are connected.
It sounds silly, doesn't it? Reading it there, you probably don't get it. I doubt I would. Allow me to explain. Whenever I see multiple hot guys at one time, right away I think that they must know each other. Waiting for the bus a few days ago, I saw two guys that fit this category of good-looking-ness. One was crossing the street, and the other was walking down the street with his little brother. Right away, I thought they knew each other, and must be friends. Wow, I'm scary.
I don't even know why I decided to blog about this, but I figured you had a right to know. I'm watching a Michael Jackson tribute on TV. I guess you could call him good looking, if you wanted, in his own way :P
I DO NOT NEED MEDICATION.
Erika
I could devote an entire blog to listing them, which isn't a bad idea (remember that, haters, I expect you to keep on top of things!). The major problem that I'm going to talk about in this post, however, is simple. I automatically assume that all hot guys are connected.
It sounds silly, doesn't it? Reading it there, you probably don't get it. I doubt I would. Allow me to explain. Whenever I see multiple hot guys at one time, right away I think that they must know each other. Waiting for the bus a few days ago, I saw two guys that fit this category of good-looking-ness. One was crossing the street, and the other was walking down the street with his little brother. Right away, I thought they knew each other, and must be friends. Wow, I'm scary.
I don't even know why I decided to blog about this, but I figured you had a right to know. I'm watching a Michael Jackson tribute on TV. I guess you could call him good looking, if you wanted, in his own way :P
I DO NOT NEED MEDICATION.
Erika
Monday, July 6, 2009
milk
Hey,
Welcome to gum/drop/smile! I'm trying to start a blog for all of my stories, poems, over all random writing type stuff. Maybe this could be that blog; I hope so.
So, I don't know where or who you are, but maybe you'd like to know a little about me. My name is Erika, and I'm currently coming to you from Liberec in the Czech Republic. I'm on vacation visiting my mom's family, and yes, I am going to constantly milk my location for all the culture, pictures, and references that I can. That's where the title comes from, by the way.
Your mom drinks Czech milk (it's better than North American, and she knows it).
Erika
Welcome to gum/drop/smile! I'm trying to start a blog for all of my stories, poems, over all random writing type stuff. Maybe this could be that blog; I hope so.
So, I don't know where or who you are, but maybe you'd like to know a little about me. My name is Erika, and I'm currently coming to you from Liberec in the Czech Republic. I'm on vacation visiting my mom's family, and yes, I am going to constantly milk my location for all the culture, pictures, and references that I can. That's where the title comes from, by the way.
Your mom drinks Czech milk (it's better than North American, and she knows it).
Erika
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