Alice and the Queen of Hearts

After Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, the girl lost pretty much all sense of reality. She wandered around with a lost look on her face, touching things to make sure they were there and checking her height periodically. She could be found talking to caterpillars in the yard and steering clear of any drink that wasn’t water.

Her pale blonde hair was always kept out of her face by a black headband. Today, she was wearing white denim shorts and a light pink tank top that matched her Toms. Light blue, almost grey eyes looked around without really seeing anything. She mumbled to herself and tripped over her own feet.

A vicious cackle filled the hallway. Alice whipped her head around in terror and darted into an empty classroom as Scarlet Regina made her way down the hall.

The Queen of Hearts herself, captain of the cheerleading squad, Prom queen, all around diva. Her dark red hair was pulled back into a curly pony tail and she was dressed all in red, from her sparkly pumps to the low-cut tank top. Her posse of cheerleaders and boys followed close behind, dressed in black and white with dashes of red.

As she passed by the Mad Hatter and the March Hare they both bowed formally and exclaimed, “Your Majesty!” in mocking tones.

“Off with their heads,” Scarlet gestured towards them with out really caring, then burst into grating laughter again. Her crew joined in nervously.

Scarlet was extraordinarily beautiful, but her eyes were ice cold. Most people associate brown eyes with warmth, but not Scarlet Regina’s. They passed over a crowd as if everyone was below her. If she stared at you too long, you could feel your limbs start to freeze.

For the most part, her threats were empty. She didn’t really chop peoples heads off… anymore. But there were a couple of strange cases concerning students who had disappeared after getting into an argument with Scarlet. No one did anything about it; Scarlet always got away with anything she wanted.

The currently single, wannabe ruler of the school had her eyes set on Philip Grace. He and Briar Rose had split up shortly after Philip became Prom King and Scarlet was positive she was going to get him.

Scarlet peeked into the classroom that Alice had ducked into.

“Alice, dear, are we up for our croquet game after school?”

“Yes,” Alice squeaked.

“See you then, dahling.” And Scarlet sashayed down the hall, swinging her hips full force, as Alice scampered to her locker.

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Modest is Hottest

Oh, but what is modesty, hm? Many people have different opinions on modesty. And it seem like some don’t have an opinion about it at all…

Please, while you’re reading this, keep in mind that this is MY opinion, not what your opinion must be. Though, it wouldn’t hurt to agree with me 😉 Haha kidding, kidding…. except only kind of.

Anyway, girls, let’s talk modesty. According to the dictionary modesty is sexual reserve: reserve in appearance, manner, and speech, especially in relation to sexual matters. This doesn’t mean you can’t wear tank tops and shorts, that’s not what I believe at all. And, just to share, I sometimes even let my bra straps show *gasp*. You should dress comfortably, and in a way that makes you feel good about yourself. You’re allowed to look cute and feel beautiful.

But, when you start dressing for other people, that’s when lines get blurred. For instance, when you pick out a low-cut tank top, because it’ll get the boys excited… yeah, not modest, not Christian, not classy.

Plus, as a Christian girl, I don’t want to tempt my boyfriend into sexual thoughts. I’m not saying I’m perfect. Of course I want him to like how I look. Confession: I’ve worn shorts because I knew he’d like them. They weren’t, like, spandex, booty shorts. Just regular denim shorts, not even that short. But it wasn’t because I wanted him to think about me like that. It was because I know he likes how I look, and I personally believe that it’s ok to be flirty in how you dress as long as it’s not immodest (sexual, trashy, provocative, whatever floats your goat)

There’s another side to this though, because if you’re dating someone, you want them to be physically attracted to you. I’m sure boys try not to think about girls in a sexual way all the time (well some of them at least… the one’s worth dating) but that’s just not how the world works. And you can’t blame them, girls have those thoughts too. God made men and women attracted to one another, and not just our brains.

So, summary: Modesty; good. Temptation; bad. It’s ok to wear clothes that make you feel good about yourself. It’s not ok when you wear clothes just to look hot, or sexy, or whatever.

Swimsuits! NOT an excuse to wear the minimal amount of clothing and say it’s ok because it’s a swimsuit. Honestly, some things are for your husbands eyes only. Bikinis = bad. They were invented, not for comfort, but to show as much skin as possible.

Um… yeah I think I made my point. Comment opinions please 😀

100

So… I hit 100 followers….

I’m not freaking out at all….

Yeah, I just lied. Seriously, this is super exciting. You guys are awesome and I love you. I mean, my blog has been running for two weeks. And I already have 100 followers. Is that normal? It doesn’t seem normal.

Just wanted to say thanks and you guys make me super happy.

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^^^ Celebratory picture ^^^ 🙂

Aqua Streaks

I have so many random projects on my computer. Several don’t have much promise, but they’re still interesting. I hope you guys enjoy the little snippets I post.

 

      I wasn’t the only one staring. She was staring back. Big brown eyes gazing across the cafeteria in my direction. I didn’t recognize her. I didn’t even know she came to my school. But there she was. No one talked to her, no one acknowledged her. She was an outsider. Just like me.

“Chase,” My only friend at school nudged me. I turned to face him hesitantly, not wanting to break the trance that the girl and I had seeped into. “Whatcha staring at?”

            “That girl, I-“ I started to point her out to him, see if he recognized her, but she had disappeared. “Well she was there a second ago.”

 “Maybe your face scared her off,” He laughed. And usually I would’ve teased him back. But I intently searched the crowd, trying to spot the aqua streaked black hair. But it was completely out of sight.

            That girl was like breath on glass; one second she was there, and the next she was gone.

            “You didn’t see her, Ned?”

            “No… I don’t think so. What did she look like?”

            “She had aqua hair, kind of hard to miss.”

            “Huh. Nope, didn’t see her. Sorry buddy.”

            I don’t know what it was about her. Maybe the brooding expression. Maybe it was the way that she was invisible to everyone but me. Or maybe it was the way she was staring back, searching me for… something. I only knew I had to find her.

Magic

I’m not really one for poetry, thought there’s some I can appreciate. But my favorite poet, of all time, is Shel Silverstein. Those of you unfamiliar with his work…. *shakes head* I’m sorry. Here is one of his poems:

Magic

Sandra’s seen a leprechaun,

Eddie touched a troll,

Laurie danced with witches once,

Charlie found some goblins’ gold.

Donald heard a mermaid sing,

Susy spied an elf,

But all the magic I have known

I’ve had to make myself.

I love this one so much because it explains why I write. Not for magic specifically, but for adventure. Through writing, I get to spend my days on a beach, in Ancient Egypt, with the guy of my dreams, solving a mystery. I can travel, be anyone, do anything. I create my own adventures, my own magic. Thank you, Shel Silverstein, for your wonderfully quirky poetry that actually relates to life.

The Midnight Society

Here’s a glimpse into one of the many projects I’m working on. It’s really just a concept, not too much more than what I’ve posted. If you’ll kindly look past the grammatical errors and awkward sentences, that would be fantastic. It’s just a rough draft. But please, please, let me know if you like it and want to read more 🙂

 

“Floor-length gowns and four inch heels were not my style. But what else do you wear to a mysterious midnight gala that was by invitation only. We were almost to the antique mansion, and my best friend Phoebe and I could hear the classical music. I touched her arm.

“Are you ready for this? Because, this is super weird. Seriously, think about it. What if we get involved in some sort of criminal activity or something?”

“Lyric, this is the chance of a lifetime. I can smell the adventure. Now come on. We can only take fashionably late so far.” She grabbed my hand and dragged a stumbling me to front door.

            A guy, probably around twenty years old and wearing a sharp looking tux, was at the front door.

“Invitations.” Was the only word that man ever said to us. It wasn’t even a question. It was a demand. We handed the small cardstock squares with fancy calligraphy to him. He simply nodded politely and opened the door for us.

And that was the last time I ever saw him.

            I think it was Vivaldi wafting through the air, but I’m not positive of anything about that night. Everyone looked perfectly comfortable there, probably around fifty people. Young men in suits and women in ball gowns floated effortlessly around the room. I wondered if any of them had been invited the way Phoebe and I were.

            I gently touched my blonde hair, hoping the French twist I had worked so hard on would stay.

“Come on, there’s Branden,” Phoebe led me to the handsome man who had given us the invitations.

“You made it,” He observed politely. I didn’t even know what to say, but Phoebe was already taking charge.

“Did you think we would pass up the opportunity to attend a gala hosted by Pacific University’s elite?”

“Touché,” Branden gave Phoebe a half smile. “Well, girls, mingle, eat, and dance. Enjoy yourself.”

He walked off before I could ask why we had been invited.

            Phoebe turned to me, positively giddy.

“Oh my gosh, I handled that ridiculously well. Did you see his face? I was so cool, too, it was just like BAM response!”

I tried to quiet her down, but I couldn’t help but laugh. “Ok, ok, I get it. Now shall we mingle?”

“We shall.” And it was all I could do to keep up with those strappy red heels of hers.

            She was a sight to behold, completely at home in her attractively cut red dress, and her elegant hair-do. Her alluring smile caught every male’s attention.

Me? I’m afraid I’m just slightly more awkward in social situations. I wouldn’t go so far as to say outcast, or wallflower, but small talk has never been my strong suit.

            There was a single person besides Phoebe there that I knew. A girl named Kira Drake. I had my writing class with her. She was friendly and we talked a second about our creative writing assignment due on Friday. One thing about college is that there was always something due, even worse than high school. Seriously, it kept you on your toes.

            A waltz started about half an hour in.

“May I have this dance?” I turned to my right to see where the voice was coming from. A guy, around my age, possibly older, was holding out his hand, peering at me with piercing eyes. For some reason he reminded me of old black and white movies; the tux, gray eyes, black hair combed neatly in an old fashioned way.

“I’m afraid I don’t know how to waltz,” I apologized, hoping he would take it as a no. Instead he took my hand and led me to the dance floor.

“Nonsense. I’ll teach you.”

“Oh, um, okay.” I tripped after him. He led me in a simple 1-2-3 pattern that became natural quicker than I had imagined it would.

            “My name’s Lyr-“

“Lyric Anastasia Romanoff. I know.”

I blinked at him, but I realized he must be a member of the party that invited us. “That leaves me at a bit of a disadvantage. You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”

“Jason. Jason Clyde.”

“Well it’s nice to meet you Jason,” I remarked. He gave me a quick smile.

“It’s nice to meet you too.”

Were we flirting? I’m 76% positive we were flirting. “