get excited..

Sorry guys, it's been a busy past few days. All I have to offer is a few short sentences from what will hopefully become an epic story. As can be seen, this is obviously the beginning of said story...where it ends, I have no idea. Any suggestions?

Daring to open my eyes, all I saw below me was a dense cloud of grey mist, the cold spray rising to beat me in the face. I heard the rumble of a waterfall echo in the distance below. I knew what this was, I knew exactly what this was: it was a bottomless chasm of doom. Why was I here? This was a question of the utmost importance.

Looking up, I aw my hand clenched with the ferocity of a small, angry, child to the arm of another person. Following the arm that was presumably attached to a human being somewhere, I was surprised to see the placid, slightly depressed, face of a boy. Was he wearing eyeliner? I think he might have looked at me, but his unnaturally-black hair obscured his face. But not even all his hair- the back was short- these were side bangs. This warranted yet another paramount question: how did this emo kid catch me from falling into said chasm of doom

~Abby

I found the wild things...

Yesterday (October 16th), I saw Where the Wild Things Are on opening day. Was it interesting? Yes. Was it complicated? Yes. Was it good? Eh, I’m not entirely sure. Between the screaming children soundtrack that could easily be spliced into a slasher flick and the not-exactly-chipper ending, I can’t decide if I actually enjoyed it. I do believe that the solution to that particular conundrum is to watch the movie again…with a remote, and on a smaller screen.

The remote would help with the fact that there’s probably some hidden symbolism that I didn’t catch in the theater…like the owls, Bob and Terry. I don’t understand them. But I have theories….

The smaller screen would help with the fact that I got carsick…yes, carsick…while watching. Hand filming is cool, and arty, and definitely creates a mood. Buuuuuut, it (in this particular situation) also induces carsickness. Yeah, all that shaky, arty, goodness was just a bit too much…

Yes, this is a pathetic excuse for complaining. It was a good movie, but it bugged me.

So, this is what I have to say: go see it. You’ll like it…I think.