Sunday, July 22, 2012 | By: Brianna

Cleaning Out Jacques

So Jacques (my laptop) has been a little grumpy, leading me to believe that things need to be deleted.  But in going through this process, I found some gems:

This unfinished bit about The Search for Hogwarts:

Once upon a time in a land just over the Atlantic Ocean from the United States, the sun was just peeking over the horizon, as if checking to see if it was safe to rise.  On a random streetcurb sat two girls.  They looked somewhat out of place, and definitely lost.  The blonde one was consulting a large map and muttering to herself while fiddling with her thick maroon and gold scarf while the dark (not black!) haired girl craned over her shoulder.
“Okay, so we were supposed to pass eight phone boxes and make a left on Princes Street.  We did that,” the blonde mumbled, massaging her temple with one hand.  “Let’s face it, Maggie, we’re lost.”
“We’re not lost, we’re right in front of a bookstore!” Maggie assured her lamenting companion.
“Which translates to our being lost.”
It was clear that the two had had this conversation before, and Maggie’s continued attempts to lift the blonde’s spirits had been so far unsuccessful.
“Look, Brianna, we can take a break from our search and go into the bookstore for a bit, and then you can keep freaking out,” Maggie bargained.  Two opposing forces battled across Brianna’s features, the one side wanting to forge ahead and reach their goal the most efficient way possible, and the other side with a soft spot for bookstores of all kinds.
“Alright, let’s go.”
The two girls stood and crossed the cobbled street, attracting a number of odd looks due to Maggie’s skirt and tie and Brianna’s scarf, but neither of them took any notice.
Inside the shop were shelves upon shelves of books.  Virtual mountains of books reaching the ceiling.  At the very sight of them, two American jaws hit the dusty floor.
“Oliver, this isn’t working, no one’s coming.”
The complaining voice came from the mouth of a very well dressed gentleman


The Death of Creativity from a class I took once and how upset I was that my classmates were uncreative...

I feel that creativity doesn’t exist in this realm.  Creativity lies in the hallway with a pike rammed in it’s chest.  The life juices already run out.  Needles impale Creativity’s fingertips, pinning them to the ground.  Eyes open, watching the door.  It’s ears bleed.  Flesh separated from its legs, feet reaching towards the door.  Escape.  The room within welcomed not Creativity.  Spurned it.  Here was where Creativity came to die.

Outside the doorway, Creativity twitched.  Fettered to the thin wall, Creativity struggled against its bonds.  Somehow clinging to life after a mechanical pencil was rammed down its throat, Creativity rasped.
“I live,” it said.  “There’s Hope.”
But was there?  While Creativity slumped against the wall, did Hope live on as well?  In the corner of the classroom hung a dingy birdcage, the small snowy feathered Hope huddled toward the corner, its dark eyes peering between the bars.

And Creativity had flown out the window.  Looking out the window and down at the ground, you could tell it wasn’t the impact that killed it.  Creativity wore a blindfold, almost like blind Justice, an arrow buried in its chest.  Its feet and hands were bound with barbed wire and mud from the ground smeared its garments.  Hope’s dark brown eyes watched over Creativity’s unmoving form.

The horrid, hanging silence.  Creativity lying gagged beneath the desk.  It gazed out at the occupants of the classroom.


The beginning of a film noir parody of a campus television show I was in during freshman year which I would paste here, but who knows who might be reading this...that and it's also unfinished.


Soundtrack to the Movie of Your Life

So, here's how it works:
1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc.).
2. Put it on shuffle.
3. Press play.
4. For every question, type the song that's playing.
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button.
6. Don't lie and try to pretend your cool...because none of us are
Waking Up: Gimme a Chance -- Plain White T's
First Day At School: 'Til Him -- The Producers
Falling In Love: Big, Blonde, & Beautiful -- Hairspray
Fight Song: Bet On It -- High School Musical 2
Breaking Up: One Day I'll Fly Away -- Nicole Kidman (Moulin Rouge)
Prom: Brown-Eyed Girl -- Van Morrison
Life: Here Without You -- Three Doors Down
Mental Breakdown: Singin' in the Rain -- Gene Kelly
Driving: Thankful -- Jonny Lang
Flashback: Amnesia -- Chumbawamba
Wedding: Be Our Guest -- Beauty and the Beast
Losing your virginity: Mischief Managed! -- John Williams (Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban)
Birth Of Child: Jimmy -- Thoroughly Modern Millie
Final Battle: When It All Falls Apart -- The Veronicas
Death Scene: You Get Me -- Michelle Branch
Funeral Song: What You Own -- RENT
End Credits: Not Alone -- Darren Criss


This from Baby Brianna, it's longer, but here's a snippet:

The whistle of the Hogwarts Express trilled and a small puff of smoke engulfed the waiting wizarding families.  Lily Evans bid her Muggle parents and her little sister Petunia farewell outside the barrier between platforms 9 and 10.
“Good-bye,” Lily’s voice wavered with tears welling up in her eyes.  Petunia shoved her older sister away as Lily attempted at giving her a hug, and rolled her eyes.
“Don’t get all emotional,” said Petunia.
Lily gave her parents one last hug and they started walking toward the family car.  When they looked back to wave good-bye, Lily had already disappeared onto platform 9 ¾.
Once Lily had stepped onto the hidden platform, she caught sight of the Hogwarts Express.  She wheeled her trolley away from the barrier and glanced around at the people standing on the platform.  She was hoping to find her loud, outgoing best friend Vivian DeWilde.  But she couldn’t find her blonde best friend; instead, someone else found her.
James Potter waved when Lily caught sight of him.  Lily rolled her eyes and thought, Of course, the person I had least wanted to run into.  I can hear it now, ‘Hey Evans!’  He’s in fifth year with me and yet he still acts so immature.
Once James had finally gotten to Lily, he waved again.
“Hey, Ev-Lily!” he said with a big grin on his face.
“Hello, Pot—I mean, James,” Lily replied.  She sounded like she was tasting the word “James” as if she had never said it before.  In her head she thought, I’m surprised he doesn’t have Remus, Sirius and Peter tagging along with him.


This from quite a bit older Brianna, it's longer, but here's a bit:

The snow covered everything in a thick icing, reminiscent of gingerbread masterpieces of Christmases past.  Streetlamps cast a warm glow on the little neighborhood where families sat in the warmth of their sitting rooms, snuggled up with mugs of hot chocolate.
With a small pop, two figures appeared out of seemingly nowhere on that quiet little street.
“Sirius, you git, you Apparated us into the middle of a snowdrift!” came the whispered rebuke from the shorter of the two figures who pulled her cloak closer around her and leapt out of said snowdrift.
The taller of the two calmly stepped out of the snowdrift, trembling with contained laughter.  “It was a little difficult for me to concentrate with you at such close proximity, love.”
The young woman sent her midnight blue glare at Sirius Black, crossing her arms over her chest before turning her back on him.
“Vahn, love, it’s just snow,” Sirius pointed out, still fighting to control the laughter that threatened to burst from his throat at any second.
“You did it on purpose,” she growled under her breath, turning slowly around to face a Sirius who was significantly closer than he had been a full ten seconds ago.
“I did not,” he said solemnly, his grin the only part of his countenance that contradicted his statement.  With a roll of her eyes, Vivian DeWilde allowed herself to smile and relaxed her posture, standing on her tiptoes only to peck Sirius on the lips before turning and heading off down the street.  Sirius trotted the short distance to fall in to step with her, and by then her hand was in his and they were climbing up the steps of a little house and rapping on the door to gain admittance.

And oh, there's more...but I'll just stop there for now...

Thursday, July 12, 2012 | By: Brianna

Poems for a Year

It dawned on me.  While I was writing my Poem-A-Day for today.

On September 1, 2012, I will have written a year's worth of Poem-A-Days.  
366 poems, because 2012's a leap year.

And as I had my pen resting on the loose leaf which in turn was sitting on the grainy computer desk, I thought the very profound thought of, "That's a lot of poems."  Then my brain proceeded to melt inside its casing and ooze out every possible escape route out of my head.  Now I have gray matter to mop up and tease out of the keyboard, and I still have the realization that I'm going to have written over 100 poems.  Over 200 poems.  In fact, I will have written over 300 poems and be well on my way to writing 400.  And that's huge.  If it was all about quantity, I would be on the road to writing myself an eternity's worth of poems.

The real truth of the matter is that it's actually about quality.  I'm not going to say that I think all my poems are awesome.  And I'm also not going to say that I think they're all trash.  Most of them are somewhere in the middle, and with revision, they can definitely be either "okay" or "superb."  Point being, I've got a lot of material to work with, and that thought is overwhelming.  I may never have to write an original poem again... And even after typing that, I realize that it's not true.  Of course I'm going to write more poems.  I'm not just going to say "These 366 are it, I'm never writing anything new ever again," because that would put me in a terrible place when I'm far away from the college life and I'm still revising poems about graduation stress.  So for the sake of keeping myself out of a time vortex, I will still write poetry even after this Poem-A-Day Project is done.

So I'll be done with this Poem-A-Day Project.  I realize that the year is a little illogical based on the fact that it goes along with the school year rather than the regular calendar year that normal people use, but part of me is alright with that.  The other part of me wants to call it Poem-A-Day 2012 and get it over with.  You know, just keep writing until January 1st.  I'm playing with this idea, I haven't decided yet.

And then there's another part of my oozed puddle brain that asks, "Are you going to keep going?"  Will I just keep writing one poem per day and keep going until some undetermined date?  Is there enough paper for that?  Should I change my system somehow?  Maybe I could use recycled paper instead?  Or my recycled  Should I keep going?  There are definitely perks to keeping up with the Poem-A-Day Project because it gives me some reliable way of expressing myself.  I know that if I have something that's on my mind, I can sort it out in a poem, or rant about it in poetic form.  And I still have so much to learn when it comes to imagery and form and making my poems actually sound pretty in addition to being silly.  It's been nice writing these poems during my last year of college because it gave me a way of remembering what was on my mind at the time I was writing that poem and what I was stressed or excited about.  I can look back and get right back into that mindset.  The cons all revolve around resources.  For paper and pens (because let's face it, are there really enough pens and paper in the world to sustain a Poem-A-Day Project for a Brianna who will live until who knows when?).  For ideas.  This is the biggest problem with my being at home this summer.  I don't see a lot of people outside of my family, and I don't get out very often, so I don't see a lot of new things.  So my poems are either really odd or really dumb because they're about the same eight things that I always write about when I'm at home.  And there's nothing really new going on.  Although when I start the job search...there will be plenty of material and ideas there, there have just gotta be.  And then there's my five month stay in Orlando, FL for the Disney College Program.  That HAS to be a goldmine for creativity.

So it's coming up, the end of one year's worth of poems for Brianna.  Will she continue till January?  Will she continue until some undetermined date?  Or will she just stop and call it a year?  The answers to come soon...

"I've written some poetry I don't understand myself."
- Carl Sandburg