Neverland

No, this post isn't a review of J. M. Barrie's Peter Pan. It's moreover talking about life and childhood dreams and facing that you have to grow up.

Yesterday, I spent a whole day with my friend. We walked around our development, played music on her guitar, went to Wawa, talked about everything, hung out on the playground, went for a walk at 10:00, watched various videos and had fun. The only thing we didn't do is swim and eat ice cream. If we had, that day would have been the second greatest day of the summer so far. (The first was everything mentioned above, only with swimming, ice cream, piano, pizza, and with two of my best friends. That was two weeks ago.) I wanted the day (two weeks ago) to last forever.

I told my friend last night about how that day was possibly the best cure for end-of-the-year stress, and that I never wanted it to end. She agreed.

After thinking about last night and the night a few weeks ago, I realized that like Peter Pan, I never want to grow up. Being fifteen, and it being summer, I have just about all the freedom in the world. Of course, I have parents, and have to obey law enforcement and gravity, but I can do whatever I want. I can do whatever I set my mind to. If I work hard enough, I can be in Women's Ensemble and Concert Choir if I work on my pitch and volume. I can perform at the Guild if I practice at least daily on piano.

I digress.

Right now, life is great. I have little responsibilities, I can sleep in until noon, I don't have a job, and honestly, I don't have a care in the world. I have nothing to worry about. And because it's summer, I don't have to care. I just have to do a few household chores and practice piano.

When I was a kid, my idea of a perfect childhood fantasy world was a mix between Alice's Wonderland, Peter Pan's Neverland and Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory. And I wanted all of it. I still do, but reality is now slapping me in the face because I have braces. If I didn't have braces, I would still be imagining a candy-infused Wonderland where I never had to grow up.

What I've been saying the whole time is because life is great right now, I never want to grow up. I can fly away to Neverland and never have to grow up.

Boredom is a Killer

Since school ended, I have found myself being a victim to one of the most deadly viruses known to man: boredom. It is a chronic illness who's only cure is having fun. If left untreated it can lead to doing stupid stuff, buying things off the internet, tweeting what you eat for lunch, excessive eating, excessive sleeping, playing video games in the dark for 18 hours, and blogging about how boring your life is. Symptoms are clear and include not having fun and wearing this face.

As opposed to this face.

(Thank you Google)

First face says: I am bored.
Second face says: I've had the best day ever!

As you can tell, I am very bored.

Weird Stuff Goes Down In Jersey

The other day, I was bored and decided to skim through my copies of Weird NJ. Admittedly, about half the stories in were pretty stupid. One story was about "Midget Albino Cannibals of Boonton", with an attached picture of five or six guys wearing gorilla suits and holding baseball bats. Another story was of "dancing underpants in Rahway". As I said, some of the stories are quite stupid.

I am only familiar with a few stories in there, and if I told you, I may have stalkers coming to my door. (Yeah, like that would happen.) Anyway, here are a few "strange things" that happened to me while living in New Jersey.

When I was about 10, I was walking around my old elementary school with my friends. We were playing on our old swing set and jumping around  on the playground near the woods. The school I went to is surrounded by forest on its North, West and Southwest sides. When we were leaving, I saw what looked like a pair of red eyes in the bushes. We ran to my friend's house, thinking it was a manticore coming to devour our souls.

(Manticore woodcut. Just think about it. Isn't it creepy?)

There's also this story my friend told me about a man that lives across the street from her who never leaves his house, except for at night where he wanders the woods behind the elementary school with a saw in his hand.

I once took a picture of my parents bedroom on negative, and there was a black figure sitting on their bed. It scared my sister and I, so she deleted the picture.

While walking through a historic section of a town about half an hour away, I swore I saw a man in a suit standing next to a lamppost. When I looked again, he was gone.

On the way to school one day, I saw a black figure run behind a tree. It freaked me out, so I tried to ignore it. It's still in my memory.

Those are the only truly "weird" things that have happened to me in New Jersey.

update

i realized a few nights ago that the only people following my blog are my sister. myself and someone i dont even know.  in other words i want followers. so ill ask my dad if i can digg my blog or something. lets hope for the best.

the reason puncuation capitalization and all that other good stuff is not in this post is because i am doing this from my cellphone.  my caps and alt buttons arent working with blogger.  it works for everything else but this one website.

i watched the wind that shakes the barley today. i thought it was pretty good but i didnt finish it because i read the wikipedia article. and i learned the first and second verse of falling slowly from once on the piano. its possibly my favorite song right now and easier than i thought it woule be.

Holy, Holy, Holy

On the last day of school last year, my friends and I decided to go to the woods behind the cemetery next to our high school to look for the supposedly haunted witch's well. Legend has it that back in the early 1700's there was a witch trial and a woman was thrown down that well. Since the people didn't want to hear her screams, a brick shack was built on top of it. There is a structure of sorts (called "the rock" in my log) not too far away, (but still far enough to get lost in those woods) with two benches and the words "Holy, Holy, Holy" carved into it. Some say it was a sacrificial altar, while other's say that it is simply a memorial to what happened there.

And this is where my story begins. I wrote a short account of our journey into and out of the woods. (There may be some typo's or changed words, it being quite difficult to decipher my handwriting. At least I didn't write it in French. Also, names have been replaced with initials to protect the identities of my friends.)

6:28 AM June 23, 2010

I packed 3 water bottles for today's excursion. I'm also bringing my camera but I haven't decided  which one yet - digital or camcorder? I need to buy another water bottle in case D or G comes.

I plan to make some etchings in the cemetery, so I brought two pencils along with this notebook. I feel a little apprehensive about going to a witch's well. Legend has it, that if you put your ear to the well, you can hear their screams.

I've decided to bring my [camcorder].

7:26 AM

G can't come. Hopefully D will.

12:00 PM

Long time since I updated. We came to the woods and found the rock. Sadly, while looking for the well, we stumbled upon a water tower with a camera. We heard cop cars and ran. I almost fell behind, but made it to G's house.

12:11 PM

We ran back to the school. (Recap: A picture was taken at the water tower. I pray to God that it only caught the back of my head. Bad picture: Inability to get caught.)

We hid out at the library until the bell rang.

12:22 PM

We made it on the bus. C and G found the well. They took pictures for Facebook. T, D, S, and I split up with C and G. We met up on the bus.

All is well...somewhat.

~Erin

That's the end of it. I got about 10-15 minutes of video on my camcorder, mainly of the cemetery. And D acting weird. I plan on actually finding the well this summer. When we found the rock, all we found were two guys smoking who gave us bad directions. When we accidentally got too close to the water tower, some automated voice said: "YOU ARE TRESPASSING ON PRIVATE PROPERTY. A PICTURE HAS BEEN TAKEN." So we ran. When we got out of the woods, I took off my shirt (wearing a tank top underneath), hoping the police wouldn't recognize us, and changed the disc in my camcorder. We heard police cars and went to G's house.

C, T, S, and I all went to my house afterwards where we went on the computers and ate Popsicles.

The Sims

The Sims Medieval came in the mail the other day and I've been playing all weekend. I do have to admit, I am a Sims addict.

I started playing The Sims 2 when I was around 10. I would visit my neighbor, moreover to play the game than actually play with her. I quickly became addicted and was over her house nearly everyday. When I asked my dad for the game, he said "When you're older", mainly because Sims can have sex in the game, although everything is covered or blurred. When I did get the game, I soon begged my dad for every expansion pack. And I eventually got every expansion pack, save for two. (Open for Business and Bon Voyage, of which I borrowed from a friend.) I still play The Sims 2 every so often, mainly because its compatible on my laptop.

When I was on my way home from the eighth grade trip, my dad called me saying The Sims 3 came in the mail from Amazon. I NEVER STOPPED PLAYING IT. After several computer crashes, I still have the game and still play it. I have every expansion pack so far, because its THAT AWESOME.

On Friday, The Sims Medieval came in the mail.I spent all weekend playing it instead of doing my Biology homework. I'm still working on building my kingdom.

Now it would be pretty cool if the Sims did Victorian/steampunk London. That would be pretty awesome, considering that's one of my favorite time periods. Maybe have a Sim hunting down Jack the Ripper? Or maybe reading up on a certain fictional detective? Just a suggestion.

New Stuff!

As you can see, I updated the template for my blog. The last one was getting old, and I decided to mix things up a bit. I chose to have my background be a bookshelf because I love books more than anything else in the world. Okay, I probably love my friends and family more than books. And my mind. Well, I both love and hate my mind, shut up! No, you shut up! Get out of here! You get out! Both of you! Let the chick blog, 'kay? Fine. Fine.

You may now worry about my mental state. Anyway, what I was saying was that I love my imagination. Because without imagination, humanity wouldn't exist, now would it? If the caveman didn't invent the spear, we would all have died of starvation. I digress.

I will (hopefully) post more often, if school doesn't get in the way. See you later, alligator.