Monday, August 8, 2011

The Devil's Boots

Today is kind of a pointless post, but whatever.

I haven't worn my precious Dr. Marten boots since the hiking trip I went on with MEChA, since they were so dirty and scuffed. This hiking trip happened in the beginning of July, before the Anime Expo and after June.

+Yes, I went hiking. There were trees, and rocks, and dirt and nature in general. Apparently when they said hiking, they meant hiking. Haha! It wasn't all bad except for you know, the actual hiking, but overall it was entertaining, and will forever remain a fond and happy memory. I still hate that river/stream/moving-body -of-water, however. (We had to cross a stream-like-thing a number of times- I dislike it. It's existence pissed me off.) But I'll post more on that later.+

Back to my boots. So my previously shiny, black leather boots are now caked with dirt and mud and pebbles and they're scuffed everywhere. I couldn't look at them for the week after due to the shame I felt for putting my boots (whom I love as my children) through such hardship. However, I rationalized, that these boots were the best thing to take hiking, seeing that my other shoes consist of two pairs of converse (one cloth, one not), which are slippery as fuck when on a wet surface*, a pair of American Rag shoes, which are basically cloth, cardboard ad a thin strip of rubber, and my now terminally ill Polo shoes, which I was not going to take hiking.

So, when I returned home, tired, sweaty, and still in shock that I hiked (like through dirt and nature and stuff), I took notice of my boots. My poor, poor boots, who were struck over and over by rocks and dirt and submerged in water when I kept falling into the water. At that point, I just mentally cried and buried them under a pile of clothes in my room, saying a brief prayer for them and sacrificing a baby goat in their honor.

Flash-forward to maybe four weeks later. I do not wear my boots, since they have been attacked by nature, and I stumble across them** when searching for a book. I had been ready to leave to go visit a friend of mine (for the first time in weeks!) and I was looking for the book, so I could read it when I came back.

I saw my poor boots, and in a moment of love, I decided to wear them. I shook them a bit, chasing away potential spiders or rocks, and put them on.

Strangely, the dust and irreversible scuff marks gave them a sort of... look. Kind of vintage, but that's not exactly it. It just gave them a sense of personality- and I loved it. I had never been so conscious of my boots existence before whilst walking.

It made them feel like my boots. My boots in which I bought for myself as an eighteenth birthday present.

It was awesome.

*Funny Story. When I was in Seventh grade, I had just gotten a pair of teal blue converse for my birthday. I didn't wear them constantly till March, since it was cold. Then April came, and I wore them- once. That same day, it rained, and the bell had just rung. Those of you who attended public school know that when it rains, the fucking bathroom floors get soaked, for some obscure reason. I ran in there to wash my hands- and I did a motherfucking split. My knee bent and I totally ate it. (Well, not technically, since I didn't fall on my face...)

It was funny.

**Quite literally. I almost fell.

(What does it say, that both those anecdotes are about falling?)

Friday, August 5, 2011

No Sir, No Dancing Today!

I have found the perfect book.

I'm not even kidding. And NO, it isn't the Bible. Loaned to me by a close friend of mine, "The Witching Hour" is the perfect book. It has everything. It's like if Anne Rice and V.C. Andrews had a love child. The plot is intriguing; combining a familial history darkened by death and incest with an interrupted ritual and of course, magic and witches, the plot is a total fucking trip.

The book itself reads like a mixture of Charmed and Flowers in the Attic. Of course this book was in existence before Charmed, although I'm not sure about Flowers in the Attic. Regardless, It had grabbed my attention. The main character, Rowan Mayfair, has absolutely no knowledge of her familial history and does not know a thing about her heritage; no idea why she has the power to kill or save, why her mother gave her up at birth, why her adoptive mother wanted her to have absolutely no association to the other Mayfairs in New Orleans. The other main character, Michael Curry, had an accident and came back from the dead with a psychometric power and has his world inadvertently tied together with Rowan's.

I'm part way through the family history (the second part: "The Mayfair Witches") and already I'm so into it, that it's not even funny. I haven't been this much into a book since I was reading "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows" and "The Harlequin" simultaneously because I couldn't choose which to read first. (Let me tell you, that was a fucking mission.) Regardless, I cannot put the book down (except for now) and it is thoroughly entertaining.

How have I not read this book before? It came out in 1990, I should have heard of this. Really, I'm surprised at myself. I still have like five-hundred pages to go, but I know it will be epic.

I have also started watching a lot of Dexter. I haven't watched Dexter since the first season came out, due to my lack of cable TV and lack of Internet or computer, so getting into the second season again was great! I had no idea I had been missing so much! I am currently part way through the third, and although it's a bit of a let down, it's keeping me thoroughly entertained.

This summer has kept me very entertained, on the entertainment front. (Does that make sense?) I have also become a bit of a hermit, but that's okay- a withdrawal from the world is expected following my disillusionment with society. It's a yearly occurrence. It just sucks that it happened during summer, 'cause it's hot!

I have also read Stardust by Neil Gaiman, re-read American Gods, started Interview with the Vampire by Anne Rice (also borrowed from Angie), started various online manga, watched almost all of Charmed, several anime series (Fairy Tail, Sekirei), went half-way through the first book of "The Sword of Truth," bemoaned not owning the seventh Harry Potter book, or the last two Anita Blake books and learning how to make pancakes and french toast.

I also was able to register early for Pottermore, by finding the quill. Which is ironic, because originally, I had no knowledge of the quill-clue thing until Vicki informed me. I also got to register the same night. For once my habit of knocking out at 4am came in handy.

Sadly, I have not been to the beach once this summer. I hope to have this rectified by next week. That, or Little Tokyo. I want some dango.

I've also been going through some kind of social withdrawal, since my friends all left me. Well not left me, like we don't talk anymore, but left me as in physically left, since I have not seen many of them for like years. (I exaggerate; a month.) Regardless, I've gotten a bit clingy with the ones that are here, since Cherry leaving to Arizona has me feeling all abandoned and shit. That's one of the reasons for my hermit-tude I guess. *Sigh* Me and my issues.

My hatred for Twilight has reared it's head once again, along with my distaste for Nicki Minaj and a burgeoning dislike for Katy Perry and her fireworking tendencies. I not really sure why my criticism for pop culture is so strong all of a sudden. Strange.

Oh, and I'm broke. : (

Okay, that's it for my update.

I want apple cider, for some obscure, unknown, reason.

P.S Why do I have a habit of using archaic words?