As Charlotte cascaded down the oak and stone stair case into the main seating area, Daniel Shimmer rushed to her side, grabbing her by the elbow. “Happy 18th birthday, my sweet pet, May I have a word with you in the adoption office?” She ripped her arm away from him and stood back, he was visibly shaken by her bold rejection. “No, I would not like to speak with you; I would like to speak to Mrs. Crane”. She looked over to her Head Mistress, Jeanette Cane for solitude. “Of course, “Cane billowed, already striding towards her office,” I believe it is time for you to leave, Mr. Shimmer.” Without a second glance, he was dismissed. Charlotte managed a menacing smile as he barreled past her, looking more like a grimace. She strolled into Jeanette’s office, managing to plop herself into a large leather chair. Jeanette sat across from Charlotte, her aged face wrinkled from confusion. After a few moments of silence, Jeanette spoke, “What exactly are you so smug about, Charlotte. That man was your only hope to avoid homelessness; and yet you insult him and his advances, and then curl up in my office like a Cheshire cat, waiting for its feeding and a nap.” Charlotte sits up a little straighter in her chair and folds her arms onto the wooden table between them, “I have a plan” she whispers to Jeanette. “Tell me all, Cheshire” She retorts, and stands to close the door so they may talk more privately.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
what should i name the book?
1862
I couldn’t feel the rain as it touched my smoldering skin; but I knew it was turning into a flood .As my shoes filled up with water, I ran through the back alleys that connected Brooklyn, until I finally reached the crumpling building, standing like a dark giant in front of me. I placed my locket inside the folds of the yellow blanket; as well as a hand-written note informing the nurse on duty of my dire situation. I kissed my daughter on the forehead; while gently setting the basket underneath a ledge to make sure she wouldn’t freeze in this terrible storm. I rapped on the large door, pressing my ear against the rotting wood. When I heard the patter of footsteps down the stairs I took off into a full sprint; unaware of the tears streaming down my face, as hard as the downpour which filled the streets of New York that night.
1880
Charlotte woke up to the sound of rain tapping on her window sill. It had been pouring for 3 days now, it seemed even the weather was devastated over her 18th birthday. As she rolled onto her back, the thin goose down tick couldn’t brace against the hard metal frame and a loud squeak escaped; shrill enough to wake a dead man. Charlotte lazily turned her head to look out of the attic window of the orphanage. It was then she realized it was the last day she would ever look at the roof tops of Brooklyn and the cloudy sky from this spot ever again. “I’ll miss this place”, she whispered. It had always been her home.
I decided to pull myself out of bed and get dressed; even though I knew there was no reason to. I had no chores today, and no prospective family to take me home. After I started to mature; no high society woman would want “Charlotte Furey; the audacious Orphan” gallivanting around her respectable home. The black buttons strained over my bust line and hips, pushing them to their breaking point. It is the only thing that still fits her after 3 years of being too big to wear the free donations. The old garment was her only dress. The hem is torn and shabby, the deep scarlet color has faded, and it is completely out of fashion; but it was hers. She wrapped her blonde, curly mess of hair into a tight bun, and looked at herself in the mirror. She felt a tinge of pride, at how she had grown into a woman; but immediately saddened by her dull complexion, almost matching the gray of her eyes. She knew she didn’t have a name; or a real purpose in life.
Charlotte finished putting on her black hoses, and scuffed black shoes. She knew that Daniel Shimmer would be in the orphanage main room, wanting to take her in. What would a middle-aged, balding man want with her? Nothing ordinary or something she would ever be interested in. Charlotte was about to leave her cozy nest she has come so attached to, when the old wood door flew open; it was Lady Katherine, one of the younger nuns working at St. John’s Orphanage; looking as nervous and disheveled as a church mouse, who was caught nibbling on a wheel cheese. “Charlotte,” Katherine stammered, “I have Mr. Daniel Shimmer in the waiting area, and you’re 20 minutes slept in.” I could feel my blood turn to ice; my worst fear has come true. I haven’t any money, or options; Shimmer was my only hope for survival.
As I began to straighten my dress, Lady Katherine began to whisper into Charlotte’s ear. “You know, there is another way.” I murmured back,” what way is that?” Katherine stood so close to my face I could smell the harsh bleach from her clothes, and a soft hint of lavender perfume, “Chaperone the Orphan Train, and work as a governess to any family who will take you. Lottie, you were always the brightest star in my classes, don’t let this man bring you down.” And in an instant, she was gone, bolted out as fast, and as loudly and she came. I crumpled down onto the wooden floor. My thoughts were racing, in barely recognizable sentences. I can’t become Daniel Shimmer’s mistress, I can’t become a thing to be tossed around. The man is revolting, and smells of Mint and cheap Gin. I knew what had to be done. I straightened my shaky legs, and looked once more the mirror. I didn’t realize that I had been crying until I saw the stains on my face and the sharp pain from the cold wind against my cheek. I shut the window, and wiped off my face.
Friday, February 4, 2011
new years resolution
My new years resolutions is to write a novel! So, I need your help with some of the character names.
Its set in the wild west in the 1800's, and I need the name of a Rancher/cowboy; with big green eyes, black shaggy hair, and olive colored skin. He has an all white horse named Finna.
Its set in the wild west in the 1800's, and I need the name of a Rancher/cowboy; with big green eyes, black shaggy hair, and olive colored skin. He has an all white horse named Finna.
His name is Jack Oliver-thanks domi!
the Heroine is an 18 year old girl, just off the orphan train in colorado. Shes beautiful, but her clothes are drabby, She has Blonde hair and blue eyes. very light complexion, with high cheek bones and a slender frame. She is intellegent, and witty, but very reserved and untrusting.
Her mother that gave her away is Susannah Cleave, who is a wealthy woman living in virgina, she gave up the heroine for adoption when she was born. thats all i can say right now! help me with some names please!!
the Heroine is an 18 year old girl, just off the orphan train in colorado. Shes beautiful, but her clothes are drabby, She has Blonde hair and blue eyes. very light complexion, with high cheek bones and a slender frame. She is intellegent, and witty, but very reserved and untrusting.
Her mother that gave her away is Susannah Cleave, who is a wealthy woman living in virgina, she gave up the heroine for adoption when she was born. thats all i can say right now! help me with some names please!!
Monday, January 17, 2011
Weight loss problems
A. I feel disgusting in my own skin.
B. my hormones hate me, and its making it hard for me to loose weight.
C. we dont have all the proper foods at home, and im embarassed to ask for it, i dont want my mom to spend the money.
D. wft is a Juicer? and why are they so god damn expensive.
E. somehow ive gained weight...ughhhhh
F. i effing hate going to the Gym, all the creepers stare at you, and all the high school girls with perfect bodies judge you. I feel like shit everytime i go.
this week im going on a juice fast, wish me luck ladies, ill update along the way.
B. my hormones hate me, and its making it hard for me to loose weight.
C. we dont have all the proper foods at home, and im embarassed to ask for it, i dont want my mom to spend the money.
D. wft is a Juicer? and why are they so god damn expensive.
E. somehow ive gained weight...ughhhhh
F. i effing hate going to the Gym, all the creepers stare at you, and all the high school girls with perfect bodies judge you. I feel like shit everytime i go.
this week im going on a juice fast, wish me luck ladies, ill update along the way.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Puff it, Pass it, Push it, Peddle it
This blog will make absolutely no sense, so I apologize ahead of time. I miss Kevin. I miss having him around every day. It’s so hard going from seeing each other most days to nothing or maybe twice a month kills me. I’ve gotten used to it (it’ll be a year since he moved away in February) but it doesn’t mean it makes me happy. I miss when we would write each other notes and read them during class in high school. Some of my best memories were sneaking out of class and kissing in the hall when no one’s around. High school love is so funny, because everything is Taboo and wrong. When one is in College and you see a couple kissing, you turn your head and move on. High school-“someone call the police! Those teenagers are engaging in a lewd manor and should be beaten with large metal objects”. I cant imagine what it would be like to spend a basic month together in the same room now….But we are moving in together within the next year, and Im grateful for that, because I don’t know what I would do without him here much longer.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
have you ever met someone...
...Who made you think "give it five years and she'll be awarded with an AVN? God i felt like that today...
And People who just can't get over ANYTHING?!?! like yeah i hoped you got hit by something large, moving, and treachorous...but get over it for god's sake. Your a moron and no one is going to respect you.
Oh, and when you do something disgusting and immoral, don't expect people to think your a better person for dealing with it; generally people think you messed up. you have to accept that instead of praise for your bullshit, your going to be ridiculed. and if you dont like being called a "slut" or some variation SUCK IT UP! You did this to yourself.
And people who think that their better than you? the 5'0 tall 105 lbs. of bitchy attitude that i cannot even fathom, i mean you may be the most important person to yourself, but i dont particularly give a bums thumb about you or your kickass retro ideas. and i dont fucking like how you pretend to like me. your weird, and awful.
I also hate when any certain individual tries to tell me how to act around people they dont even know. or they dont know me. ive never talked shit about someone without understanding their situation. and when i tell you i dont care about you its because my short time on this planet has nothing to do with you and im not going to waste my time trying to build a relationship with someone who is redundent and dirty.
And People who just can't get over ANYTHING?!?! like yeah i hoped you got hit by something large, moving, and treachorous...but get over it for god's sake. Your a moron and no one is going to respect you.
Oh, and when you do something disgusting and immoral, don't expect people to think your a better person for dealing with it; generally people think you messed up. you have to accept that instead of praise for your bullshit, your going to be ridiculed. and if you dont like being called a "slut" or some variation SUCK IT UP! You did this to yourself.
And people who think that their better than you? the 5'0 tall 105 lbs. of bitchy attitude that i cannot even fathom, i mean you may be the most important person to yourself, but i dont particularly give a bums thumb about you or your kickass retro ideas. and i dont fucking like how you pretend to like me. your weird, and awful.
I also hate when any certain individual tries to tell me how to act around people they dont even know. or they dont know me. ive never talked shit about someone without understanding their situation. and when i tell you i dont care about you its because my short time on this planet has nothing to do with you and im not going to waste my time trying to build a relationship with someone who is redundent and dirty.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Goal for this week
So ive been on a diet for about a week and a half and Ive lost 4 lbs. I hate that my hormones are fighting me the whole way!! I just want to have the body i had in highschool. ugh!
by January 11th i want to loose 5lbs. Im going to completely cut out soda, chocolate, or anything from a fast food restaurant. Im going to use the Wii for an hour every day, and go to the gym 4 times.
I hate going to the gym. I always get sideways, nasty glances from other women, and men think that i would be interested in giving them my number. but Im going to get over it so i dont fail this week. Wish me luck!
by January 11th i want to loose 5lbs. Im going to completely cut out soda, chocolate, or anything from a fast food restaurant. Im going to use the Wii for an hour every day, and go to the gym 4 times.
I hate going to the gym. I always get sideways, nasty glances from other women, and men think that i would be interested in giving them my number. but Im going to get over it so i dont fail this week. Wish me luck!
Monday, January 3, 2011
Sometimes the first time is the worst time
In January of 2006, I was a sophomore at Ralston Valley High School. In my Math class, I met a person named Austin Freeman Ayers, he was the most intriguing boy I’d ever seen. He was tall, dark, skinny, and extremely engaging. At the time he had a girlfriend but there was a rumor going around that she had back hair, so I figured it wouldn’t last. When that fiasco was over, I slinked in and gave him my number. That night he called and I knew he was hooked. We immediately started dating and would talk on the phone at night, and occasionally meet at the park. I’ve never been excited to go to math class, but the thought that I could sit next to him and take notes was heavenly. Austin was brilliant, but he didn’t have a lot of common sense and through a series of unfortunate events he was expelled; we broke off our relationship shortly after, put kept a strained friendship, considering we still had a certain tenderness for one another. He called me every night no matter what at 10pm.
On October 4th, he didn’t call. I knew something was wrong but I didn’t want to pester him. In the morning I received devastating news. I didn’t believe what they had said and I called a mutual friend to confirm. Afterwards, I proceeded to cry on the shower floor for close to an hour. The act of sobbing seemed overwhelming to me, but liberating at the same time. I struggled between breaths as the cinderblock on my sternum began to break apart. As soon as my legs could withstand any heaviness I crawled out and went to school with wet hair. I needed to know if it was true; I couldn’t bear the thought of losing him. The only thing I found at school was more details and more crying. He was inebriated and riding his favorite long board next to a man in a suburban holding on to the window but eventually had to let go. I heard everything from “he just cracked his head” to “he got sucked under”. Somewhere in there was the truth but that morning I couldn’t find it. I felt as if Death was following everyone who knew him. I couldn’t stand class; I needed rest. I made the drive home and slept for hours and woke up feeling like I needed something substantial to hold on to. Then, like a wave it came rushing forth into my mind; the glass heart.
In a memory long past, Austin went to Flagstaff, Arizona for spring break and brought me back a glass heart he had a man make for me. It fit perfectly in my palm and is still one of the most beautiful things I own. I destroyed my bed room searching for it and when I found it I felt this weight lifting and inner peace. For the next six months that heart was always in my purse or I was carrying it. At his funeral I clung to that little piece of glass as if I were to let go I’d fall off a cliff into a river. I told Austin I would never lose it, I promised him.
In May of 2009, I decided that I would bravely go where I had never dared a second glance into; a tattoo parlor. Inside was a striking tattooed woman named Jeanie and I asked for her opinion of my idea. She said it sounded right up her alley and would love to work with me. I sat down with her and together, we drew up a picture of what I wanted for Austin. The heart was my crowning jewel, the centerpiece of my project. Around it was stargazer lilies. I chose this particular flower because whenever he and I would spend time together he was always staring at the sky. Written on their petals was “Alis volat propriis”, a Latin saying which translates to “she flies with her own wings”, which signifies my independence as a person and my love for language. Pretty, feminine details were added for flair and Jeanie set a date. I was so nervous I almost didn’t go. I knew it would be painful, but I really had no idea either way. I knew Austin would love it, so backing out was never an option.
On June 2, 2009 I let someone puncture my skin with tiny little needles for four hours and felt rejuvenated after. The physical pain matched my emotional pain, and with healing physically, also I let go psychologically. I received grievance from my family for altering my body in that way, but as I explained to them the touching importance it had over me, they came to love it as much as I did. Austin would have been astounded by the help it made. Time does not heal wounds, you must bandage a wound, apply ointment, and treat it carefully so as not to cause infection or nasty scarring. That is how the heart mends as well. I took care of my heart and eventually it made a full recovery.
The keepsake delicately etched in my skin is to remind me to be a great friend and to take advantage of a human beings precious time. This is not a sad story; it is one with the lesson of serenity to accept the things that one cannot control, and care for your heart as you would a scrape on your knee. As Jeanie so eloquently put it, “Your body is a temple, and the highest level of respect is adornment”. I respect my body, I respect the sanctity of life, and I respect the value of a promise to a loved one.
On October 4th, he didn’t call. I knew something was wrong but I didn’t want to pester him. In the morning I received devastating news. I didn’t believe what they had said and I called a mutual friend to confirm. Afterwards, I proceeded to cry on the shower floor for close to an hour. The act of sobbing seemed overwhelming to me, but liberating at the same time. I struggled between breaths as the cinderblock on my sternum began to break apart. As soon as my legs could withstand any heaviness I crawled out and went to school with wet hair. I needed to know if it was true; I couldn’t bear the thought of losing him. The only thing I found at school was more details and more crying. He was inebriated and riding his favorite long board next to a man in a suburban holding on to the window but eventually had to let go. I heard everything from “he just cracked his head” to “he got sucked under”. Somewhere in there was the truth but that morning I couldn’t find it. I felt as if Death was following everyone who knew him. I couldn’t stand class; I needed rest. I made the drive home and slept for hours and woke up feeling like I needed something substantial to hold on to. Then, like a wave it came rushing forth into my mind; the glass heart.
In a memory long past, Austin went to Flagstaff, Arizona for spring break and brought me back a glass heart he had a man make for me. It fit perfectly in my palm and is still one of the most beautiful things I own. I destroyed my bed room searching for it and when I found it I felt this weight lifting and inner peace. For the next six months that heart was always in my purse or I was carrying it. At his funeral I clung to that little piece of glass as if I were to let go I’d fall off a cliff into a river. I told Austin I would never lose it, I promised him.
In May of 2009, I decided that I would bravely go where I had never dared a second glance into; a tattoo parlor. Inside was a striking tattooed woman named Jeanie and I asked for her opinion of my idea. She said it sounded right up her alley and would love to work with me. I sat down with her and together, we drew up a picture of what I wanted for Austin. The heart was my crowning jewel, the centerpiece of my project. Around it was stargazer lilies. I chose this particular flower because whenever he and I would spend time together he was always staring at the sky. Written on their petals was “Alis volat propriis”, a Latin saying which translates to “she flies with her own wings”, which signifies my independence as a person and my love for language. Pretty, feminine details were added for flair and Jeanie set a date. I was so nervous I almost didn’t go. I knew it would be painful, but I really had no idea either way. I knew Austin would love it, so backing out was never an option.
On June 2, 2009 I let someone puncture my skin with tiny little needles for four hours and felt rejuvenated after. The physical pain matched my emotional pain, and with healing physically, also I let go psychologically. I received grievance from my family for altering my body in that way, but as I explained to them the touching importance it had over me, they came to love it as much as I did. Austin would have been astounded by the help it made. Time does not heal wounds, you must bandage a wound, apply ointment, and treat it carefully so as not to cause infection or nasty scarring. That is how the heart mends as well. I took care of my heart and eventually it made a full recovery.
The keepsake delicately etched in my skin is to remind me to be a great friend and to take advantage of a human beings precious time. This is not a sad story; it is one with the lesson of serenity to accept the things that one cannot control, and care for your heart as you would a scrape on your knee. As Jeanie so eloquently put it, “Your body is a temple, and the highest level of respect is adornment”. I respect my body, I respect the sanctity of life, and I respect the value of a promise to a loved one.
Remember, the person who can make you the happiest can also make you the most miserable.
“They do not love that do not show their love. The course of true love never did run smooth. Love is a familiar. Love is a devil. There is no evil angel but Love.”
Love is dangerously close to Lust, which borders Jealousy, which is sometimes worse than Hatred. Be careful in giving away your heart because the love you feel can easily tear you apart. Your love could lust after another, and the big green monster lurking in the background of your life is shoved into your unsuspecting face, causing you to not only hate your lover, but also yourself for not feeling good enough, or feeling like a fool. Love is the most beautiful, amazing feeling in the whole universe, warm like staring into the Sun. Just be aware that the Sun has Radioactive waves that cause skin cancer, and you may get burned.
oh hey there
Im going to blog once a week for an entire year. 2011. Please send me requests on what youd like me to write about, ill give my opinion, no matter what the subject matter. Nothing will scare me away :)
thanks, Alora
thanks, Alora
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