I've read Twilight, New Moon, and Eclipse. I like them all, but I'm forced to admit that they're honestly some of the easiest reads out there. I think Meyer spends too much time describing how beautiful Edward is, and the only characters with "real" personalities are Jacob and Alice. Another thing that irks me to no end is that she mixes up the timeline when she's explaining Jasper's story.
Actually, Sakura becomes pretty important, and Shippou's purpose is mainly for comic relief. However, I do think Joken from InuYasha is pretty useless. He's hard on the eyes and ears, he's weak, and he's most irksome.
My favorite movie is Pan's Labyrinth, for it's phenominal story-weaving and stunning picture and soundtrack. It can also be added to the top of the "Sad Movie" list.
I like exploring undeveloped polts of land, areas with "No Tresspassing" signs on them, and house still undergoing construction when I'm bored. There's nothing wrong with a little exercise and a healthy police chase.
My school motto is: I refuse to have a battle of wits with an unarmed person.
Seriously, it wastes time and you end up not learning anything. It's better to just swallow your pride, remember that you're right and they're stupid, and get on with the lesson.
I think being intelligent means that you can make the most of what you're given. That you can grasp concepts well and make sensible logic based off the information you have.
Being smart is having knowledge and being intelligent is what you do with that knowledge. Frankly, you can know all the facts of the world, but they'd be useless if you couldn't put two and two together.
Okay, here's a modified Valentine's Day scenerio: I'd be in my room, sighing heavily and waiting for my lover to arrive, when I'd see him drive off in my best friend's mini-van. I'd be silently thinking something along the lines of, "That b*tch!" when I'd hear the ominous "step thump, step thump" of a pirate coming up the stairs.
I'd hide under my covers, knowing it wouldn't do me any good. I'd be able to smell his breath from the hallway and I'd narrow my eyes with rage. That salty sea dog had drank the last of my liquor. I would tremble with an odd mixture of anger, fear, and constipation beneath my cotton sheets as that yellow-bellied scallywag opened the door to my room. That's when I'd realize...
He was wearing the designer sweat shop hoop earrings my cheating boyfriend gave me last Valentine's Day. The b*stard. He had gone to far! I'd throw off the covers and grab my pink bazooka (that would happen to be tastefully decorated with blood red, broken hearts) and launch him through the roof. Victory!
Happy Singles-Awareness Day. I'm blasting off again.
