BLECH. That is all.

Hello,  no one. I'm NOT going to bitch about my hair. I refuse. I am currently in Pennsylvania (not telling you where, though, you  48 year old perv who is stalking Vivioletta for her amazing blog sexiness. . . (not sure what that has to do with where in PA I am but. . .)). Tomorrow I get to see VIVI! I know you're all very excited, but please keep the girlish bouncing around excitedly to a minimum. . . . and yes, that includes you 48 year olds living in your moms' basements (we all know you're transsexuals with pigtails tied with floppy bows anyway. . . (what did that have to do with anything?? (I'm just kind of that way today I guess. . . ))) . . . Woah. That was epic. Triple parenthesis. (Stop licking the screen, you weirdos.)
ANYWAY, maybe Vivi and I will get a profile picture of us for this thing. Is that like exposing ourselves to you guys licking the screen? Well I don't know. I feel so bad that people have to misfortune to come across this post. It is epically sad. Hm. WHAT DID YOU GET FOR CHRISTMAS? Never mind, I don't care. I'd probably rather not know, considering that you start licking your dirty computer screen just because you witnessed the amazing sexiness of triple parenthesis. I don't want to know what you'd give to a person like that. Not that I have anything against you, I just don't think you look all that good in plaid. Well that came out of nowhere. You're so jealous though. And I don't do drugs. I get high off of hugs and LURV. But not pot. Or marijuana. Or speed. Or anything else like that. And I haven't had a hug since I left hell. The people in hell can get very hug-y. Just watch out or you'll get RAPE'd. Vivi, you better not delete this post.
Once you stop licking the screen and wearing plaid, I will put up some pictures that have ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO DO WITH THE HAIR COLOR I WANT TO GET BUT MY GETTING IT HAS CURRENTLY BEEN DELAYED BY THE STUPIDITY OF THE PEOPLE OF THIS WORLD AND CHEESECAKE. So don't say that it does. Because you're wrong. Lal fo uoy. (If you can read that, you're cool. Or dyslexic.)

"That son of a bitch cut me off!" - Maverick, Top Gun

Hey... there... fellow bloggers!  Followers... friends... Okay, as you can clearly see, well.. see?  Read... tell... Um.  I'm not feeling TOO bright today.  All is new is I DID see An Education... like two weeks ago. (has it really been that long?!?!?!)  It was truly, stunning.  I would without a doubt recommend it.  Okay... so.  Recently I've been watching a lot of movies (I KNOW what your thinking, no I don't care if as Anna pointed out that sounds stalkerish, "That's new?")  Well, an ESPECIAL lot.  You know the list of "500 Must-See Movies"?  Well, you do now.  I have it taped up onto my wall and have 73... no.. 74 down.  Just watched "Top Gun", um, no comment on that movie.  Tom Cruise is just SO GOOD at ... playing Tom Cruise.  Though the plans did entertain me slightly.  Needed a nice extremely 80's movie after It's A Wonderful Life.  As amazing as It's A Wonderful Life is... okay, I'm done.  Just felt like I owed it to ALL YOU LOYAL FOLLOWERS (hint, PLEASE follow us if your reading this!!!) to blog.  Or maybe just to Anna... hem.  Well!

Oh, and Anna.  Journalism is Schizophrenia?  Isn't that what THIS BLOGGING HERE IS?  Because... well no one really reads this.. (if you do, we don't know!  As you never comment or follow us, okay)

OH!  I forgot the title!  Right!  I think it sums up all of our feelings about life, especially around these joyous holidays.  I'm really sorry for putting you through this post, it is VERY spazzmic... Hem.  I promise whenever I blog again it will be something that has NOTHING TO DO with movies.  Well, maybe a paragraph about movies.......

Happy Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Jakwanza(don't ask), whatever you celebrate! or just

Buon Natale a Tutti,

Violetta

JOURNALISM: The Accepted Form of Schizophrenia

Journals and diaries. I know what you're thinking. (Haha, I love saying that, doesn't it just mess with your head? "I know what you're thinking." "NO YOU DON'T YOU STALKER GET THE HECK OUT OF MY MIND.") Ahem. Sorry for that. Allow me to paraphrase: I know what you might be thinking. (Well that sounds lame.) You're probably wondering how weird you have to be to have enough to say on journals and diaries to blog about it. The answer is: this weird. . . obviously. (It's not such an amazing feat though, considering I just wasted a paragraph writing about writing about it.)
Okies, so first off, I do keep a journal. Not religiously, but I find that it's a nice way to vent. So most of the stuff in that journal is. . . angry (and explicit). That said, I don't really see the point of journals. Unless you show them to other people, you're basically talking to yourself. It's like the accepted form of schizophrenia (hence the title. I know it's sad that I'm self-righteous enough to quote myself (I'm really not) . . .  (Yay for double parenthesis!). . . ). So if you only write in circumstances like the ones I write in, you're pretty much just whining about how much your life sucks. And I've done plenty of that, I'm just pointing it out for those of you who may still be in denial.
And I know what all those people say, the whole "It helps you get through things, see them from a different perspective blah blah blah. . . " Okay, so maybe they don't do the "blah blah blah" part, but you get it. I don't know about you but I can see the most my situations pretty clearly. And I'm sorry that I don't believe that struggling to find the right sentence fluency so that it sounds good in words helps me in any way. (Is the sentence fluency thing just me? . . . I think it is. . . oh well. . . )
Also, what's up with all the fancy-looking diaries? Like the ones that say "TOP SECRET" or "DO NOT READ" across them? I'm pretty sure the CIA isn't interested in the boys you like or the new pink dress your mommy just bought you or what flavor lip gloss you wear. And what about ones like this?:

 

Is it just me or do these just scream "READ ME"? When I was little I just loved these kinds, with all the "secrecy"and keys that I lost. And my older brother just loved to find them and write in them and make fun of me for fantasizing about Orlando Bloom. It took a while, but finally I figured out that my underwear drawer wasn't a very original hiding place, and it's too irresistible to not read pretty little diaries with bows and hearts and bunnyrabbits on them. I now have a very creative idea for keeping my journal unread. I actually stole it from "How my Private Personal Journal Became a Bestseller" by Julia Devillers (I heard the Disney Channel turned it into a movie, which is insulting since everything that that channel touches dies) which was actually a pretty decent book. But I'll never tell. Who knows, my brother could be reading this. . . (Haha, I doubt he's still interested in that stuff anymore though. . .) Pretty much all I do is take a normal comp notebook and write Language Arts on the cover and voila! It is no longer interesting.
Oh. Oops.
Haha. Well I actually do have a lot more to say on this topic, as sad as it is, but I won't because I have a stupid concert to go to. Ti amo e ciao, mi amore. . . s. . . !

Anna

Christmas Shopping. . . FTW

Okies, so this blog is a request from my tutor. Actually, it was a way of getting out of writing this in class. But whatever.

Kay, I'm supposed to formulate an opinion on Christmas shopping. . . hmmm. Truth is, I couldn't care less. I mean, what's with the hype? You go out, you get Starbucks gift cards for a list of people that you haven't talked to for about a year and most likely won't talk to until next Christmas. Well, at least Vivi would get them Starbucks gift cards. That's her default. . .  Shhhh. . . *ahem* Anyways, my point is. . . . uh. . . . never mind, I don't have a point. It just seems kind of melodramatic and unnecessary to make such a big deal out of it. I mean, don't get me wrong. I love to shop. Lots of people like to shop. And I get why people like an excuse to buy stuff. But does it have to get so crazy when you actually have a purpose for shopping? I don't think so.
Oops. I think I just formulated an opinion. Kind of. Maybe. . . ? Hmm, I think it's good enough. Well, since I made all our avid readers sit threw a school paper thing, I'll throw in some badassical pictures:

 ^ Hey look! It's the economy! ^

SUPERHAPPYFUNSUSHI.

(If you can't read this, the first box says

Bella: Like, hi! My name is Bella and I'm a special and unique snowflake and I'm so pretty and nerds are so lame! Also, all the teachers and students at school think I'm sooo awesome!

Second Box

Edward: Hi, I am Edward and I am a vampire. I have no personality and you and I are void of any kind of actual chemistry.

Bella: Ooo. You're pretty! We should be in love! Let us frolic!

Edward: Okay.

Third Box

. . . .

Fourth Box

Random Ex-Twilight Fan: Okay, Father? I lit the movie on fire, but I don't think that did the trick. I can feel it. . . watching. . . Look, would you please just come over and exorcise the thing!? -Please? )

Haha, kay, hope I'm forgiven now. Loooooove you! *ahem* I mean, Ti amo, mi amore. . . s. . . ?

Anna