Giant, mega epiphany.

I was a total jerkface prissy prickwad of baloney in sixth grade.
I'm probably still that way.
Sixth to seventh grade was when I was at the peak of my rudeness. I just reread a whole bunch of my old chats, and one of the ones from when I was in sixth grade basically went like:

Friend: hey!
Me: hi.
Friend: so what's up?
Me: im busy
Friend: oh ok...but can i show you something? plzzz its important
Me: no, im busy
Friend: plzzz?
Me: OH. MI. GOD.
Friend: ...
Me: WHAT THE FREAK DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND ABOUT AWAY GOD UR SO ANNOYING
Friend: i didnt say anything...................
Me: OH MY GOD IM AWAY STOP BOTHERING ME

Yeah, it's safe to say that that's probably the reason I kind of had a reputation for being a tightass in school.
Although I do hope that I've changed now. "Changed" meaning completely and utterly changed. I don't want to be that girl that has the reputation for being really, really rude.

On another note: FISH BOWL!
Here's the general gist of what happened:
Went
Signed up for clubs
Got free candy from signing up
Decided to sign up for Red Cross for the free Milky Way bar
Decided to sign up for StuCo because it's just amazingly awesome
Decided to sign up for Science Club because...okay, seriously, what the hell was going on in my mind?
Wandered around
Found some friends
Latched onto said friends like superglue
Said friends literally tried to ditch me by walking very fast
Said friends claimed it was a joke
Said friends try this process about five times
Bell rings and we all go to the assigned homeroom
Seniors take roll ("Er...alright, you gotta help me with this one...Wuh..."; "Does it start with W? Because that's me. Just call me Michelle, though.")
Seniors explain about Westwood
Homeroom students play on phones
We go out of our homerooms and attempt to find our way downstairs
I lead everybody to a dead end
I'm booted off the Head Navigator position
We find our way downstairs
Everyone is packed into the gym
Cheerleaders start dancing for a "pep rally"
Boys ogle at cheerleaders' short miniskirts
Girls glare at cheerleaders for capturing boys' attention
Cheerleaders attempt to teach the class body a cheer that basically consists of shaking your butt/hips
Senior class president Rishi announces the "Party is onnnnnnnn!"
Senior class president Rishi starts pelvic-thrusting all the poor fishies
I get pelvic-thrusted
I gag in the corner
Senior class president Rishi takes off his shirt (don't worry, he was wearing two...which does strike me as a little odd)
Senior class president Rishi chases two girls around the gym
Everybody decides to steer clear of senior class president Rishi for the year
I lamely stand here, there, outside, eating, drinking, "dancing"--WHATEVER it is, I perform the action lamely
I mingle
I chatter
I watch boys play ping pong (yeah, they had ping pong tables set up)
I eat strawberries
I dance a little
I curse myself for wearing super skinny jeans
I drink some Sprite
I lose Kolencherry in the crowd, which is bad because I'm giving her a ride home
Found Kolencherry!
We go home
Er, she goes home and I go to my home
...I watch "August Rush" with my mom while trying to imitate the cheerleaders

Alright, maybe that last part wasn't totally related to Fish Bowl, but it was part of my eventful night. Gosh, can't wait for school to actually start, huh?

I'm in love.

I've already said this before, but I'm totally in love with Joseph Gordan-Levitt.

There's him for his SNL debut poster. Sigh. I wish he could make a debut in my life.

Sappy moment time!

I've even Chinese soap opera music in the background to accompany.
So maybe you guys can't hear it, since it's in my house (blame it on the gramma), but it's loud over here.
Loud.

So back before school ended in May, my friend who I shall only address as The Fox wrote me a letter. She wrote all of her close friends a letter, but it's still special, okay? And because you all love me and totally care about what I have to say, here's the letter. Ahe-ahe-ahem.

A Letter to Michelle 5/26/10
Dear Michelle,
Looking out over a crowd, it's easy to find the one person who stands out. That person is you.
The one person unafraid to stand alone, the one person who won't give up. The one person who can go wild on a dance floor, and the one brave person who charges into battle on their own.
You're gorgeous, beautiful, and clever. But what I admire most in you is your bravery. You're FEARLESS. Still, coming with your bravery will be problems. Fights you can't win. Remember this: standing alone can earn you respect, but if you push too hard in life, you'll find yourself standing alone for good.
Know what you have already, and don't go looking more. Value all you hold in your hand.
Dream BIG and go FAR.
Just don't leave me behind.

<3 [no, like an actual heart, not the text heart thingy]
[the actual name of said friend]

Anyways, there's sappy time. And bye-bye sappy time.
Sigh.
I love Foxy. *tear slips down face*
Of course, the tear thing would never actually happen. I was watching Season 6 Episode 1 of Grey's Anatomy on my phone this morning, the one where [SPOILER ALERT] George dies and Izzy wakes up and everyone's all bitter and morose and downright depressed, and I didn't even tear up. Alright, maybe a little. A teensy bit.
My point: I never cry at movies/TV/etc. It's technically not real. I mean, it feels real, but hey--I didn't even cry when Dumbledore died in Harry Potter! (Book and movie, fellas. Booya.)
And technically, that wasn't a spoiler, because if you don't know that already, that's just sad.

Alright, I'm gonna leave now. Because this is getting as awkward as my phone coversation with Kolencherry last night.
ME: ...and so I'll call you when Phoenix calls me.
HER: Yeah, okay.
ME: Okay.
HER: Ohhhhkay.
ME: *cough* Yup. Okay.
HER: Alrighty.
ME: Yeah.
[silence]
ME: Okay, then see you.
HER: Oh, yeah, bye.
ME: Buh-bye.
HER: Uh huh.
[silence]
ME: Seriously, bye. [hangs up]

Yeahhh, I'm not so smooth in the telephone call area. But when it comes to real life--ka-pow! I'm as smooth as yo momma's leg after I shave it for her. *wink*
Alright, yeah, that...that wasn't even...I'll leave now.

DAM IT I'M-SUCH-A-LOSER ALL,
BEAVER

Can Geico save you 15% or more in car insurance?

I don't care, but there are woodchucks in this video look like beavers. (Or are they the same thing? Who knows. Not me.)
Click it.
Clickity.
In fact, click here.

DAM IT WOODCHUCKS-BE-TRIPPIN' ALL,
BEAVER

asdfghjkl;

I just did a keyboard glissando.
Like a piano glissando, except on the keyboard.
Booya.

Anyhoo, I'm a mega mofo when it comes to editing. I'm helping TK with her new project, "Oh, the Life of a Kolencherry". It's awesome. It has a guy named Cole in it. And a girl named India.
I've always wanted to name my children after countries. I.e., India, Korea, Afghanistan.
Maybe not the last one.
Whatever.

Aghified. That's like "Agh", but -ified. Booya.
Booya.
Booyaya.
Boobooya.
^Ha ha, that's like BOOBooya.
Boob-ooya!
Boob-ooya!
Huzzah!
Huzzah!

I may or may not have eaten gummy vitamins with extra sugar tonight.
They're yummy in my tummy, oh they're gummies.
BOOB-OOYA!

BEAVERBEAVER <--double beaver
That'd look a little weird, wouldn't it?

D.I.A.,
BEAVER

It's my turn to say "BRAIN BLAST!"

Because I've just had one.
Cept, get ready for heartbreak. Keep those Kleenex tissues in handy.

In other news, I've got ONE song for the Cept Playlist.
Yayyyyy...yay...yay?
"Superman" by Joe Brooks
Sigh. Alrighty then.

And in OTHER other news...
KNOWING IAN WAS PICKED BY KDBDANIELLE.
BOOYA.
Now it's 470.
FOUR. SEVEN. OH.
DOUBLE BOOYA. BOOYAYA. OR BOOBOOYA. <--That sounds like a rapper name.

DAM IT JUST-KIDDING-NOTHING ALL,
BEAVER

Fasten your seatbelts...

...It's gonna be a bumpy POST.

Okay, so here's me being all sappy again. Got it?
I'm such a film fanatic and I hate that I'm the only one that way. All my friends regard me as The Wise Movie Watcher, but it's just because I love old movies. The way they talked, the way they dressed, even the way they kissed--opposed to the Attack Eachother with Your Tongues method most teens use today. Also, sex was regarded as a taboo. Even just mentioning "sex" as a word was basically forbidden. I was watching an old movie called Peyton Place and the MCs were talking about relationships. The guy MC was like, "But my mother is so protective of me. I haven't even kissed a girl."
And the girl MC goes, "Would you like to try with me?"
The guy immediately gasps and is basically freaking out that she mentioned kissing and blah blah blah.
But it just goes to show how...how pure the olden days were.

To the point:
You know how I'm all "Gah, my life is boring and I need/want a boyfriend", right? (Hopeless romantic right here, look no further, folks.) Well then I got to thinking--my ideal boyfriend would be a guy who could sit down and watch old-time movies with me. And not snore. Or complain. Or whine about playin CoD instead. But at the same time, it wouldn't be to the verge of (forgive my bluntness) gayness.
You understand what I mean, don't you?
Why, yes, I do realize that I'm being a complete saphead. Do I care? No. Would I love to quit being such a romantic? Yes.
Can I help that?
N. To. The O.
So here's me on a Wednesday, chickenpox and hepatitis shots in my left arm annoying the hell out of me, and I'm sitting at a computer playing out fantasies of my ideal boyfriend.
God, I'm such an idiot.

On to more "important" things, I suppose?
Good.
Here's me making a checklist of what I value in a man/boy/as long as he's got a weewee, I'm good:

INTELLIGENCE - I really value the "smartness" in a guy. Honestly, I'd take a blubbering calculus nerd over a dimwitted football quarterback any day. My friends Linda and Vinci were talking this one day during the school year about "which guy is, like, totally hot". Mind you, I'm not trying to put them down in any way--rather the opposite, I respect their opinions and am trying to make a point out of them. I'm not gonna name names here, but here's how the conversation went as far as I can remember.
L: Okay, you know who I think is hot?
V: Who?
L: Guy #1. Okay, so the other day I was watching him walk down the hall and his shirt was, like, swishing against his stomach and I could see the outline of his body and I'm like, "Oh my god, I want his abs." Like, have you seen them? They're, like, dancer's stomach!
V: Are you serious? Well, okay, you know who I think is hot?
L: Who?!
V: Guy #2. I mean, seriously, if looks were the only factor in liking someone, I'd be completely in love with him.
L: Oh my god, yes. He's probably the hottest guy at school. Seriously.
V: What about Guy #3? He's really hot. Like, really. That's why he's probably the most popular Asian.
L: I know!
Me: Um. Guys. Seriously? You think Guy #3 is hot? He's a little...I dunno. I just...I dunno.
V: You don't think Guy #3 is hot?
Me: ...No.
V: Who do you think is hot?
Me: Um. Uh. Honestly? None of the guys you just mentioned.
L: What? Geesh.
Me: ...
V: Oh my god, Guy #4 is really hot, too.
That's basically the story of my life.

HUMOR - I cannot stand being with a guy that doesn't have a sense of humor. I don't care if it's whacked up or sadistic or whatever, as long as you've got it, I'm good.
I think it's because I'm one of those tightass girls that always answer correctly during class, and I can't stand being with a tightass guy.
(Forgive my cussing. I'm feeling very loose tonight.)
But yeah, if there's a guy that's absolutely hilarious, I'll definitely fall for him. Definitely.
If only, if only...

ROMANTIC AT HEART - Okay. Okay, I admit it. I do want a guy that'll bring me chocolates on Valentine's and roses on my birthday.
Sue me.
But honestly, I just... Ugh. I sound pathetic. And to nobody. Honestly, who's gonna take the time to read all this crap I've posted?
Nobody.
When I go to school, which one of my classmates is gonna look past that rock-hard, edgy tightass Pick Me Pick Me girl and see that I'm actually a hopeless romantic?
Nobody.
Who shares the same odd taste for Audrey Hepburn films, white chocolate macadamia nut cookies, and  trying to bother old Michigan friends when they obviously don't want to talk to "that girl that moved a couple years ago...what was her name? Mary? Millicent?"
Nobody.
To quote Emily Dickinson, the great poet herself, I am Nobody. Who are you? Are you Nobody, too? Then there's a pair of us, don't tell! They'd banish us, you know. How dreary to be Somebody. How public, like a frog. To tell your name the livelong day to an admiring bog!

Great. Now I'm reciting poems from memory.
I suppose this is my cue to go to bed. I do hope that Sista Beavah--Lina Briare, yo yo, check it, dawg--arises from the dead.

And now, to quote my favorite movie: "Barbarian yawp! YAWWWWWP!"

DAM IT NOT-SO-MUCH ALL,
BEAVER

adhljkfhaewreiwrfae

We have a follower.
But honestly, who's mental enough to follow us?
Sheesh.

DAM IT NOT VERY MUCH ALL,
BEAVER

I've never cried at a movie.

And I didn't cry at this one either.
But it was as close to crying as I'll ever get.
Honestly, Dead Poets Society is now my favorite movie. At the moment.
I can't...I can't even say anything else about it. Other than it stars that guy from House (not House, the other guy...Wilson or something), that guy from The Good Wife (not The Good Wife's husband, the other guy), a ginger, and a bunch of other early pubescent boys that are supposed to be seventeen but look like they just got out of the womb.
Anyways, it was an excellent movie. Robin Williams never fails to amaze me. (I mean, seriously, have you ever seen Mrs. Doubtfire? Bravo, Robin, bravo.) I especially loved the scene when the guys were in the shower room...
Okay, just kidding, I'm not that perverted.
Key word: that.
But I really did enjoy the movie. No, more than enjoy, I LOVED it. All-caps. Really.
Ah.

NOT REALLY DAM IT ALL,
BEAVER

I'm obsessed

with many things, yes, but right now it's with the font "Georgia".
If you check out my Photobucket, the entire top line of covers are filled with the font Georgia.
Because, come on, it's so official-looking with a dash of spunk. Who doesn't love it?
Anyways, I really need to get back into the groove of using non-Georgia fonts.
Agh.

DAM IT ALL,
BEAVER

I heart it.

Is this not HJ?
http://weheartit.com/entry/3314896

Dude, even the hair colors match!

And so yes, I'm loving weheartit. And through that picture, I found this person on flickr, and he is good.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/austincombs/

I used to be obsessed with photography, so yeah. And damn, some of his stuff is goooooood.

I'll tell you about my new story idea in a bit. I desperately need a genius covermaker.

Why

does this remind me of Nate?

I I think I'm in love...

...with my iPhone.
Seriously, I don't know how I lived without it before! Now I can go on my Inkpop whenever I want.
Yeah boiiiii.
The point is...well, there isn't a point, but if there was one, it'd be that u heart my parents. Apparently it's a reward for behaving so well these at few years.
...Ahem.
So. Who's up for some Scrabble?

DUDE OMFG MY BRAIN IS THE SHIT.

An HJ/Cept crossover.
Later down the line, Bryan and Nate can like meet.
Huh? Huh? Huh?

The Orlando airport is like a giant mall

I mean, there's a hotel in it.
A hotel.
People are living above me as I'm going through security.
BLOWS MY MIND, MAN.

*hyperventilates*

Heheheheheheheheh.

OH MAH LORD.

Mandarr17 [author of Cover Me Again—which Bevey needs to read, by the way] just commented on Hao Jin-ah.

OH MAH LORD.

Like seriously, screw HarperCollins. The. author. of. cover. me. again. commmented. on. something. I. pulled. out. of. my. ass.



DUDE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!





My life = fulfilled.

My mind = blown to orgasmic proportions.