Tricks and New Glasses!!!

Early this morning I finished a book that I started reading last night titled Tricks, by Ellen Hopkins. It was recommended to me by my dear cousin, Paige. I have read most of Hopkins's other books which are comprised of poems that tell a story. The whole book is written in poetic form and the way Hopkins organizes them and uses them to tell the story of 5 teens on the verge of prostitution is truly genius.

The book tells the stories of Eden, Seth, Whitney, Ginger, and Cody, all teens from different areas of the US who all end up crossing stories in Las Vegas, otherwise known as Sin City. And the only thing they end up committing in Sin City is, well, sin. Hopkins teaches her young adult readers about the dangers of teen prostitution and how most of these teens end up abusing drugs and/or alcohol.

Although it is a book for young adults, I enjoyed it very much. All of Hopkins's books deal with some sort of substance abuse, suicide, or other dangerous issues. My favorite (and the first one I ever read by her) was Crank, which illustrates the life of a young teen who gets addicted to crack, among other things. After reading her books I often find myself thinking that they may not be very suitable for some teens. But then I think about my teenage cousin, Paige, and I come to the conclusion that perhaps only those teens who are slightly more mature for their age should read them. Personally, due to the graphic nature of the material, I think mature teens are the only ones who could really understand and handle the novels and the ideas and themes Hopkins bring to light within them. So, parents, you may want to be slightly concerned and if you find that your teen IS reading one of these books, sit down and speak to them about the issues and dangers in the book and why they are actually beneficial to know.

Some of the poems in Tricks really struck a chord with me. I'm going to include them here. Note how Hopkins arranges the lines of the poem so that certain words end up creating a collective thought when read from top to bottom.

Bleed (pg. 213)

Open a vein, feel

the rush, exodus,

delicious.

Don't be afraid,

there's no pain

in the letting,

delectable.

Watch the red

flow, let it go,

drip,

make it slow,

drip.

If you've done

it right, you won't

wake from the night's

indescribably peaceful

dream.

Need (pg. 245)

Need is a curious thing.

Until you plant the seed,

nurture it, encourage its

awakening,

you're not even sure

it's there. But once it

germinates, nudges up,

breaking ground,

you can no longer deny

it has always lain dormant

inside you. And now,

blossoming

with every kiss, every

touch of his hand, this

new kind of need is

growing,

sprouting shoots,

tendrils of desire

threading you,

consuming you.

Shrinking (pg. 488)

Do you know how it

feels to be shrinking?

Withering away into

nothing

more than a memory?

You need to put one foot

in front of the other,

but

running in place

is all you can do.

How do you overcome

pain

when it's something

you breathe, a blast

of hot exhaust

in your

face, something turned

you must eat, or starve?

How do you search for

tomorrow

when you're mired

in an endless today?

When You Weren't Looking (pg. 616)

The child became a woman,

though she wasn't ready

to. Don't ask how or

why.

Those questions are not

the important ones.

Can't you

see you didn't

care

enough to notice?

How will you feel

if we have no

more

time together? I wonder

if you're sorry now

about

the way you locked your

heart, access denied to

the beggar at your door.

She's nobody, only

me.

All in all, the book was a good read. It only took me a couple of hours to get through the 625 pages (due to the fact it's all in poems, you get through it A LOT quicker than you think you can), and I highly recommend it. It's a very interesting read. I also recommend her other books, like Crank (as I mentioned before), Impulse, and Glass.

My rating? 7 out of 10 stars. Now go read it!!

On another completely unrelated note, I got my new glasses!!! YAY! And although this isn't the best picture, I must brag a little here about how I haven't washed my hair in days and I still think it looks like movie star hair. Yeah...didn't do a single thing to it besides comb it last time I exited the shower. I know, I know...you're jealous. : )

Don't ask me why I always make that stupid face...for some strange reason it just sort of happens whenever there's a camera in front of my face.

Here's a slightly better pic of the glasses. They're bright blue on the inside of the frames! They aren't much different than my old ones but the blue makes them a lot hipper! I love them!! If you still can't see them, here's a better pic.

Handsome Redemption

I came to you

shattered

violated

hunting for a rescue

and a sturdy wall

on which to lean

my beaten soul and mind.

You are the warm milk,

comforting

coating

my brittle stomach,

cleansing the fear,

burying my starvation

to unreachable depths.

My shield you have become.

I came to you

as a lost girl.

You carried me

as a faithful basket

holds a joyous picnic,

carried me to womanhood

with kindness and beauty,

lust and fascination,

patience and duty.

Every bit of love that leaks

from your simple lips

is echoed to a perfect match

in my eyes.

My heart burns full

for yours is full.

I am quite found

because you are never lost.

And you are now whole

for I gave you me

and made it so.

April 24, 2011

Disguise

Unbeknownst to all

my truest form

is that of a wild flower,

a fiery red lily,

a shining dewed lily,

untamable by man

or any other creature

wishing to harness such power.

As this rich beauty

I am able to fly far

and carry my sorrows away

and lose them over the sea,

and bury them into the sea.

My felt petals are wings

used to sore through the pain

that has thus caused my heart to stray.

My stem keeps me rooted -

regret at its best -

and hinders true freedom; kind trust.

I must let it be,

I shall make it be

a reminder of the fragility

of life and of love and the spoils

of a heart stained with lust.

This form is my home,

my soul's ultimate comfort,

happiness to be free.

It is me,

yes, it is me

and all that I am

and all I might become

if only I were but free;

if only I were but me.

April 17, 2011

This Unlikely Suicide

I am the only beached whale in Indiana.

Baked.

Fried.

Deflated; defeated

yet liberated.

My transient kind

has ruffled the waves of the shore

and crushed its sand beneath

my 8 ton self.

This unlikely suicide is slow.

I suffocate

as the air from enemy lungs

evaporates my skin

and peels away

my desire for my journey

through the willowy waters of memory.

I chose this death.

I used my enormous fins

to propel my body to this grave

until my belly was rubbed raw

by the gritty footprints

of sun-kissed children

and red faced lovers.

The commotion of the sea overwhelms me;

I simply must give it up.

My tortured, peanut soul

is loosing momentum.

I am a predator to her children

so the sea has cast me away

with violent care and chilly stares.

I lose patience

and throw myself to the mercy

of land unknown.

Death could be the ultimate wave

and I already have a tan.

November 12, 2010

Lucky Lady in My Bed

Hold me

like I held her,

that lucky lady in my bed.

With the bellies of the sheets

exposed

and littered with sex

and dirt and dead skin,

she crawls to me

like a hungry fire ant

with speed and determination;

a thieving leprechaun

anticipating a plump bounty.

I could want you

just this way,

if I had the need

to be a focused red ant.

Order me

to be your queen

and I will surrender

unto you

such secret hiding places

that you will become the green pirate

to plunder what is hidden

and protect

what remains too revealing

and misunderstood

by parasites reading the bible

to their children

and by disappointing men

pulling wives with leashes

glued to ivory necks

and young girls with reins,

whipping fragile souls

with unnecessary discipline.

Don't be afraid

to be the Other.

In a world shaped daily

by copied perfection,

it's nice to be aroused

by erotic flaws

and the orgasmic release of difference.

March 22, 2011

A Reliable Wife: A Reliably Good Read

"You can live with hopelessness for only so long before you are, in fact, hopeless." - pg. 8

After reading this line within the first few pages of the novel, I knew that I was getting myself into a sad, depressing story...and I was actually excited by the idea. Who doesn't love a great story about death, sadness, broken love, murder, mystery?! Today, I finished reading this book, A Reliable Wife by Robert Goolrick. I started it on Monday afternoon. Needless to say, I really couldn't put it down. Goolrick writes with such poetic beauty that you can almost tell he himself must just be some broken hearted man with a writing obsession. This painful story is about a young woman, Catherine Land, who answers an ad for - what else? - a reliable wife. But she doesn't want love. She doesn't even want a long, fruitful marriage. She really only wants one thing...to kill her future husband and take all of his money. But the older, disgustingly wealthy man who placed the ad from a wintry Wisconsin town (named after his family) in 1907 has a few plans of his own in this gripping tale of deceit, betrayal, and the unbelievably difficult burden of forgiveness.

Although the writing was very entrancing (and oddly not boring, considering there wasn't much dialogue), Goolrick does lose his reader at some points when he jumps from one big event to the other in a matter of just a few words. At one point, I reread a certain 2 paragraphs 4 times before I realized what exactly had happened...a certain character was literally taken from the story in just 2 paragraphs and we still don't know why. Save for that one confusion, I felt the story was moving, erotic (very erotic), sensual, and desperately sad. It didn't quite push me to tears but I did have quite a naughty dream Monday night! (Stop blushing! We're all adults here!)

I was very confused in the beginning because it read almost exactly how the movie Original Sin (Antonio Banderas, Angelina Jolie) started. After finishing the book, I find it different from the movie but there are similar aspects that, if you've seen the movie, you won't be able to deny the likeness. (Remember all of those provocative sex scenes with Antonio and Angelina?! Yeah...exactly!)

Anyways, is it worth your time? Yes, I believe so. It's an entertaining read that is very difficult to put down. At 291 pages, you will probably be able to read it in a matter of a week and you WILL enjoy it, I promise. I give it a 7.5 out of 10 stars. (Hahahaa...another rating. :D) My favorite paragraph? Pg. 190 "The glass of water comforted him, and he clung to the habit with tenacity. The water meant nothing in itself. He was rarely thirsty. The ritual meant everything, a moment to close the day, the moisture on his dry lips like a soft kiss." - I, too, must sleep next to a glass of water every night not because I'm thirsty, but because I've just always been like that...always. I couldn't have described the habitual feeling any better. Thanks, Goolrick!

Apparently, it's being made into a movie. I'm not going to lie...I pictured myself being cast as Catherine Land! Me, a boring, bland lady playing the role of a tricky courtesan. How exciting to play such an intriguing character! Hey, 'such things happen!'

A Very Thirsty Cat

Ummm...WHY can't my cats do amazingly adorable and hysterical things like this??

I think you might be able to see his parched soul at one point when he stares deeply into the camera. My cat just does this...

Ok, you have to admit, he's pretty damn cute. : )

NEW GLASSES!!!! Ok, so maybe only I am excited about this one...

On Tuesday, Brandon took me to Lenscrafters to finally get a new pair of glasses!!! The pair that I have now are like 5 years old (possibly older) and the protective lining on the right lens has almost peeled off completely! So, if I closed my left eye and looked at you, you'd look like a less gorgeous, blurrier version of yourself. (I'm talking to you, Rupert.)

Here are the new glasses I'm getting. Pretty schnazzy, huh?! Hip, fresh, fun...yes, yes all of these words describe not only me but the best pair of glasses for me! (Ok, so I may not be THAT fresh right now, seeing as how I need a shower.) They aren't too much different than the ones I wear now (ironically, the ones I have now are also DonnaKaran!),

but I didn't want to change that much. Sadly, the nice lady told me they won't be ready for 2 weeks due to the fact that they have to order special lenses for my horrible prescription. (Mine eyes are SHIT-eth.) I hate waiting...I don't have much patience for anything. I mean, I wake up every morning counting down the days closer to this. (CAN'T....WAIT.......97 days....)

Anyways, I will make sure to post a lovely picture of myself in my new 'gafas' once they arrive...because I know you're DYING to see my lovely face in new attire. CHEESE!!!

Wishful Thinking Towards King Henry VIII's Real Demeanor

So, I recently finished The Autobiography of Henry VIII by Margaret George. I must say, it was a thumping good read even though it was atrociously long - over 900 pages to not be exact. My obsession with the Tudor dynasty (primarily with Anne Boleyn and her daughter, Elizabeth I, The Virgin Queen) interested me in this book, because George so wittingly creates a life story of one of England's most notorious tyrants, writing it as though he would have written it himself. She takes a different road, showing us the softer side of the crazed ruler known for his licentious behavior and his ruthless beheading of 2 of his 6 wives, one of whom is an idol of mine - the ever witty and bold, Anne Boleyn.

The gripping yet everlasting tale is everything I knew it would be, having taken too much of my free time studying this particular time period. However, George doesn't convince me that King Henry VIII was anything but a womanizer, a tyrant, an idiot. Ok, ok...perhaps that was a little too harsh. He did break from the Catholic Church, leading a reformation in religion and providing the breeding ground for new religions to come popping up. But it seems to me that the majority of Henry's accomplishments come from the women behind him, not from his own fucked up mind. Why did he break from this church? To marry the coquettish beauty, Anne Boleyn, who has been said to have been a firm Protestant in a completely Catholic nation. And yet how did he award her for releasing him from the noose of a church filled with idolatry, corruption, and greed? Oh...that's right. He had her wrongly accused of adultery, seducing him with witchcraft, and incest, all of which had her beheaded as a traitor to the crown. The real reason he murdered a queen? She couldn't birth him a son. "Thanks for the 3 year anniversary gift, Henry darling!!!" Anne's pretty little head must be rolling over in the rotted arrow box under the concrete floor of the abandoned church that was her grave. Classy.

George tries to defend Henry's "grief" over the loss of his 5th wife, Catherine Howard, a young cousin of Anne Boleyn who was raised by an oblivious aunt, the Duchess, in a house with several other young ladies. The favorite hobby of these ladies? Inviting gentlemen into their quarters for what Professor McGonagall would call "ILL-mannered frivolity!" Naturally, to keep their secret from the innocuous Duchess, they recruited Lady Catherine Howard to their fun. After divorcing Anne of Cleves (played by Joss Stone in the Showtime series, The Tudors), Henry's 4th wife who lasted only a few months and was never actually crowned due to the fact that, well, she "looked like a horse", Catherine was placed in front of the King for nothing other than his disgusting pleasure...in between the ages of 14 and 16!!!!! (The official age is unknown but there is strong evidence she was married to King Henry around age 17.) FOURTEEN...talk about cradle robbing! So, if you do the math, Miss Howard was entertaining gentlemen in her bed around ages 11 and 12. Oh emm gee, people!!!

But did this 'rose without a thorn' stop entertaining after the King married her? Negative. And when he found out shortly after the marriage, Henry had her beheaded like a commoner (with an ax; not like he so 'graciously' had Anne murdered - with a special swordsman from France). Now, granted, I am no commissioner of adultery, but I find it ridiculous that he murdered a young TEENAGE woman who - dare I say it? - was EXACTLY LIKE HIM. He had more mistresses than the court could keep up with...and probably a lot more bastards out there than the rumored son he got from Anne Boleyn's sister, Mary (looked it up, doubtful it's true). The young - YOUNG - lass grew up in what was basically a high class version of a whore house and she was thrown into royalty before adulthood to an old (he was in his fifties), obese (reaching 300 lbs), tyrant!!! She did what she always did to fit in and find comfort...she did the nasty with a lot of men, including her cousin, the one she did 'it' with the most, Thomas Culpepper...tasty name and tasty in the Showtime hit, The Tudors.

Yum.

In the end, it was Culpepper who was Catherine's true love as it is rumored her last words on the scaffold were, "I die a Queen, but I would rather have died the wife of Culpepper." And even though he had A LOT of trouble with the ladies, Henry VIII is probably the most famous king in British history. Like they say, sex sells...and King Henry BANKED on his scandalous behavior. He eventually went mad - could it be he actually had a conscience, being haunted by the ghost of his 'rose without a thorn'?? Or perhaps he had the popular infirmity...syphilis?? Me thinks the latter...indeed.

George tells a delightful tale that's just that...a wishful, unrealistic tale in my eyes. But it IS an interesting story all the same. Beautifully written and keeps your attention. I give it a 8 out of 10 stars...hahahhaaa...if I was rating it. Well, what the hell? This is MY blog, I think I can rate it if I want!!! So there!! (That sudden outburst was not caused by the same disease that probably sucked all of the brain power from King Henry's head...I promise. More than likely it was due to the realization of the minute amount of power my blog gives me. Insert evil, diabolic laugh :::here:::.)

And that concludes my rant of what I REALLY think King Henry VIII was like. I'm right...right? Anyways, read it. Just do it...you know you want to.

NB: For those of you interested in the fabulous Showtime hit, The Tudors, let this fucktastic clip move you one step closer towards watching in on Netflix. Natalie Dormer as Anne Boleyn...a dream come true. (Jonathan Rhys Meyers looks mighty fine there too...not gonna lie.)

New, New, NEW!!

I have FINALLY changed the full layout of the horrific site that was this blog. Now, I believe, it's quite pretty!

This is the first step in my attempt to be motivated enough to blog more. Ok, ok...so, let's be honest: It may not happen...especially due to a distraction like this. Or perhaps this. Maybe this. Or EMBARRASSINGLY this. Ugh...that last one makes me ashamed to be a human being. (Most would disagree and say that my second distraction is the most embarrassing one but that's just because they don't understand the 'magic' of said distraction.)

But the most worthy distraction would have to be the following...allow yourself to now be distracted, and fully content no matter how shitty your day is.