Panic

So, I have a true and serious fear of killer whales. Thanks to both a heinous video shown in my CP Bio class freshman year of high school, and the subsequent nightmares. Which you may or may not have known, depending on whether we've ever watched a commercial for Sea World together.

(See post: Sea Life Of Doom for further reference)

So, last time I was at Barnes and Noble, there was this nasty coffee table book RIGHT next to the checkout line, where you couldn't help but see it... And what evil, gleaming creatures were featured on the cover? You got it: killer whales. Three of them, bobbing up next to an ice float. Poor ice float.

Despite the trauma that ensued due to the sneak attack viewing of this book (no, really, guess what my nightmare was about the next day? That's right: killer whales), I had pushed the incident out of my mind. So, when I go to buy myself a book today, guess what I saw? You're good at this game! THE KILLER WHALE BOOK.

UGGGGHHH.

So I decided to do something about it. I casually slid over, picked the book up, and although I wanted to throw it into an incinerator, there weren't any handy. I just flipped it over instead. Now, there's a nice polar bear smiling up from the stack of books instead of that traumatizing trio of demon whales.

You're welcome, fellow Barnes and Noble patrons.

Also: certain people (who shall go unnamed) have tried to convince me that my fears are unwarranted. How can killer whales be scary? They're like sea-panda bears! They have permanent smiles on their faces!

To that I say:

Your argument is invalid.

Te--ni-al Diffi-ulties

My keys aren't working! -ertain keys -a-e de-ided to -rap out on me! I don't e-en know if t-is is legible... I tried turning my key board upside down and s-aking out any dirt t-at mig-t be -logging...

I -ad -ool t-ings to say! I wanted to talk about t-e girl s-out's se-ret drug ring! And brag about finis-ing my tea--ing requirements for s--ool last nig-t!

Uggggggg---------------.

Dumb -omputer.

RAGNAROK

Did you hear? According to Norse mythology (the same myth system that brings you the swoon-worthy Thor) today is RAGNAROK! Which basically means that the world is going to end, and tons of gods (including the ever-popular Odin, Loki, and yes, even Thor) will die. But then the earth with reemerge anew, and life will start over. 

But not us. We all die in Ragnarok. 

Cool beans, man!

(What now, Mr. Wilson?! I totally paid attention in Mythology! Ha! Eat that, you creepy fool!)

Pain and Frames

So, strange things give me headaches.

It usually centers around senses. Especially smells.

Perfume. Certain hair products. Household cleaners. BLEACH. (Oh, bleach.)

Another one I discovered just the other day, though I should have made the connection forever ago. I always get a headache when come into the craft room in our house. I thought it was the lighting (which very well could be true). BUT IT FINALLY HIT ME.

And I mean that literally.

I opened up my tub of jewelry for framing and a puff of stale air hit me, and so did the headache. AND BOOM. That's it.

The smell of my frame making supplies gives me a headache.

Oh crap. Um... problem: how am I going to make an etsy business off of these frames if they give me a headache?!?

Holy crackers.

Well, headaches or not, they're really pretty.

Ode to a Bookstore

My first assignment in my English 106 class? Write a love letter to someTHING you love.

Wellll, now. That's something I can do.

Dear Bookstore,

My heart beats furiously every time I visit you, and I wait with baited breath in between our infrequent meetings. You will never understand the way you have invaded my senses. I dream of your smell, of the fresh ink and sharply creased paper, and the sound of hardbacks cracking open for the first time. I want to bottle your smell of anticipation and new paper and wear it every day like the most expensive perfume.

There’s a magic about you unlike anywhere else in the world. You may only be four walls, but inside you are filled with never-ending stories, twist and turns, encouragement and excitement. You spark imagination in even the most serious of patrons. Children can’t get enough of you: what a joy it is to come and let their imaginations wander away, visiting a different world.

You’re so comforting. I know that after a long, harsh day of the cruel realities of dentist appointments, rush hour traffic, and dirty dishes, I can always escape into your welcoming embrace. I know you will wrap me up in your warm arms and whisper sweet nothings in my ear, with a hot chocolate and a new release from my favorite author waiting for me.

 I know I can always be myself with you. You share my love for language; it’s one of the things I love most about you. You don’t care that I’m a dorky fangirl about certain authors and books. Instead, you rejoice with me and invite my favorite authors to come and visit, just for me. I could spend my entire life with you, Bookstore, and never know you fully. Even so, what I have come to know, I love most deeply. I never want to separate myself from you. Say you want me, too.

Fondly,
Holly 

Heeeey-How-You-Doin?

Dearest friends,

This is arguably the funniest thing on the internet. I have nearly peed myself on two different occasions because of this.

I have nothing to add.



I couldn't sleep the other night because I kept thinking about this. I'd whisper "Baberaham Lincoln" into the dark and burst into hysterical laughter again and again.

I was also on cough syrup at the time, but that's besides the point.

People are clever.

Just a Nose and a Feeding Tube

So, it's late at night, I'm half asleep, and as I'm washing my hands in the bathroom, I look at myself in the mirror and think, "Man, my face shape is weird."

Now, this is an impression that I feel, in not so many words, every once in a while. And, oddly enough, every single time I skype. I don't know what it is about skype on mobile devices, but it is ridiculously unflattering to my strange-shaped face.

So, usually when I have downer-ish thoughts like that, I'll retort to myself something like "at least you HAVE a ________________." Or sometimes, if I'm too lazy to come up with a motivational thought, a somewhat sarcastic "At least you're not dead."

So, in my half-asleep state, I automatically follow up my weird-face thought with a "At least you have a face."

And then I paused. To ponder.

Because doesn't EVERYONE have a face? I mean, it's kind of an essential, if you think about it. I guess you can do without most of it, but you've got to have at least a mouth or a nose to breath out of. Wait, you probably need that mouth-- you can't just do the nose because: eating. Unless you're on a feeding tube. That can go through your nose, right? But you need a head at least, to hold your brain. THAT you can't do without; my biology teacher told me so.

So, in conclusion, I am amending my statement to: "At least you don't have just a head with a brain inside and nothing but a nose with a feeding tube in it."

Although, I do still stand by my statement that my face shape is weird. Cause it kind of is.

And now, my friends, I can go to sleep in peace.

Pelting Posers with Pretzels

So, I just saw a funny post on tumblr talking about people wanting to pull a prank on Justin Beiber by getting a group of teenage girls to run into him in public and pretend they don't know who he is to see how mad he gets.  People were all "I'd pay you to do it!" And I was like, "man, I would pay to be able to do it!" 

And then I was thinking, if I did ever see him walking down the street, what would I do? I highly doubt my ignoring him would be a big deal, cause I'm not really a teeny-bopper. And then it occurred to me that my first thought would probably be "I should throw something at him!!!" Which is funny, because I'm not a violent person. 

And if I did manage to hit him with, say, a soft pretzel, or whatever was around, I would totally get arrested. But I would also get on TV... Mario Lopez would be all over that on Access Hollywood. And I would be the hero of the internet. Or, you know, tumblr, at least. 

But that's assuming I had any sort of aim and throwing skills whatsoever, which we all know is a major "HA!" So there goes that idea.

So, I guess the conclusion is, if you happen to see an article about Justin Bieber being whisked away by his security after some crazy person started throwing bread products around and took out one of his teeny-bopper entourage: I did it for you, internet.

One Giant Pimple of Stress

So, I've fallen behind ALREADY. Yes, I know.

At first, it was: "OH MY GOSH, I KNOW NOW WHY I STOPPED BLOGGING!! Nothing interesting ever happens to me! I have nothing to write about! Uggggggggggggggggghhhhhhh!!"

But it soon turned into: "Okay, I have some ideas. Nothing earth-shattering, or crazy hilarious or anything, but a couple ideas. This isn't horrible. I may be able to pull this off..."

But, BAM!!!!!

FINALS!

You know longer have head space for anything but stress over all the times you took the easy road and high-lited important facts instead of re-writing them in your own words! All those times you reviewed your notes the day AFTER class instead of that night... good luck beating the forgetting curve now, sucker!

Oh, and by the way... you know how you planned on flying out of town the day after the last class? That class is review. The next day is when you take your final, online. Looks like you'll be taking it in the airport, bucko. I guess you'll just have to wait to ingest the cocktail of meds necessary for your gimpy body to make it through a day of travel... hope that doesn't mess up your schedule or anything. You know. Because you aren't sensitive to changes like that AT ALL.

So. No longer have I had the leisure to blog. I've been too busy turning into one giant pimple of stress. Things aren't pretty at the moment.

Needless to say, tune in AFTER the holidays. Things should be normal by then. Or, you know. More normal.

Holly Says So #1

So, I've tried to "revive" my blog multiple times since I stopped blogging back in, like, 2011. Cause I like it. I do love blogging. Writing is a great love of mine. I just don't do it very often anymore.

But I've gone back to school this year. Online, through BYU-I, (where I went for a little while in 2009), with a kick-start, year-long program called Pathways, and this semester has consisted of a Book of Mormon class and a Life Skills class that I LOATHE with the fiery passion of a thousand suns. However, at the once-a-week lab we have for Pathways, we've been a talking a ton about our talents and using and sharing them.

Now, those of you that are a part of the LDS church know that, immediately, when someone brings up the topic of not hiding your talents under a bushel, someone INSTANTLY brings up singing, or musical talents. It's always the first thing mentioned. Just because.

Well, I do not possess musical talents, unless you can count the skill of being able to sing/dance/drive all at the same time (which totally is a skill. It's totally impressive, too, if you ever get the chance to ride with me in my car). Then I was talking to my friend yesterday who was a massage therapist. She said that she volunteered at a battered woman's shelter, where she would give massages to abused women to reintroduce positive touch to the women. I mean, how amazing is that? That is sharing your talent in the right way.

I don't have musical talents. I don't play instruments. My singing is decent enough to be put in the back of choir, but nothing beyond that. And I do not possess skills in the massage department, nor do I have any sort of career-skill that I could use to help others. So coming up with ways to share my "talents" has turned into a project of creativity and pondering deeply.

One thing that I do have a talent for is writing. English. Reading. All that good stuff. It's something I've always been really interested in, and have therefore studied both at school and by teaching myself many writing-related techniques and skills. It's one of those things that makes me giddy and giggly in a totally nerdy way just thinking about it. I totally follow my favorite authors on the internet. Goodreads? Practically my favorite website. Fandoms? Um, yes. And my "Books and Words" board on pinterest currently has 360 something pins (not including those pins pertaining to certain fandoms, like Harry Potter and the Shandowhunters, which have boards unto themselves, naturally. Because I'm the nerdiest of them all).

So, I finally figured that, even though it's not Earth-shattering, blogging is at least not hiding my talent under a bushel. I mean, that seems ungrateful, doesn't it? To be given a gift at something, and then not to use it. I love everything that has to do with my writing--- there's so much that you can do with the English language!--- so you better believe that I'm grateful for it. It's wonderful to have a passion, you know?

So, that's why I'm here. That's why I'm back, reviving AGAIN. And that's why I'm going to try and make this revival stick: it's not just for myself anymore. So, I hope you enjoy something here. I don't have a specific plan on what I will/will not put on here; those who read this before (as hollysthoughts.com) know that it was mostly really random ramblings of strange/funny/ironic things I'd experienced lately interspersed with a few deep post on more important topics every once in a while. I wrote a post on What I Hope My Words Say once that I still feel really captures the purpose of what I do.

So, in conclusion, there will be:
--silliness
--nonsense
--occasional deep thoughts
--occasional somewhat-frequent anecdotes about my cat
--occasional promoting of awesome books
--made up words, (like "fantasmalistic!") because they make life more awesome
--smiles
--random prose about mundane objects, like my semi-infamous "Ode to a Flea"
--no filth, trash, pessimism (unless relating to Neighborhood Pumpkin Drama), or other nastiness.

So, yeah! We're officially back on! Happy day!

*Ten-second computer chair Dance Party*

NOTE: The reason for the name change? 1. It was time to change it, and 2. 90% of my posts have started with "So..." Alas, after some creative combinations of "so," "today," "blog," "holly," and even "crickets" and one point, I finally found an open domain: hollysaysso. YEAH. CAUSE I SAY SO.

Gosh, now I want to do a count and see how many times I've said "so" on this blog... I bet the ratio of "so" to other words is crazy. 

Thanks for reading!