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Friday, December 29, 2006

Nelly Explains Stuff: Christmas Morning at Nelly's

"A word of advice, next time you fight a man with a sonic screwdriver...don't let him near the sound system!" - The Doctor, 2006 Christmas Special The Runaway Bride

First things first, it's four in the morning, most civilized people in this country are either asleep or finishing their fan Doctor Who scripts, I however am unfortunetly doing neither. Instead, I am awake in bed trying to tell my seven year old sister that it's not time to wake up yet. My sister's name is Alice, here's what happened:

Alice: Nelly, let's go downstairs.

Nelly: (Almost completley asleep) No. It's not seven thirty yet.

Alice: But can't we just go down anyway?

Nelly: Mom and Dad said: We can't wake them up till seven.

Alice: But can't we...

Nelly: NO! Mom and Dad said we can't wake them up until seven, we can't go downstairs at seven, we can't open presents at seven, CHRISTMAS DOES NOT START UNTIL SEVEN, if we were to leave this bed before seven then Santa would come, take away our presents and throw us into the white hot pit of flaming plum pudding! DOOM awaits those who go down the steps before seven on Christmas. Abandon all hope, ye who...

At this point, I notice that during my rant my sister has fallen asleep, completely bored and quite possibly frightened by my half comotose speech. Shame really, would have made great autobiography material for her. Anyway, at this point it's about 4:15 and it takes me probably all of a second to fall back to sleep. God bless us, everyone.

At exactly seven on the dot my sister's eyes shoot open and she wakes me up again. This time, I'm not quite as sadistic as I was at four, having had two extra hours of sleep to repent my soul. I head downstairs to find my slippers (because that's the obvious place for them) while my sister goes and wakes up my parents. By 7:10, we're all downstairs.

My family all has matching stockings hand knitted by my mom, except for my sister. It's not because mom wouldn't knit her one, she's had one started for her for years, it's that my sister didn't want a family stocking. Instead, my then three year old sister decided to to assert her independence and make her own stocking. Needless to say, we bought her one at Walmart and let her cover it with glitter. The rest of the stockings are knitted. Cute stockings slightly larger then the average store bought one, each striped according to person. My mom's is striped red-green, my dad's is striped green-red and mine is striped red-white. Alice's was suppose to be striped green-white, but alas, it remains half finished in the barn outback. Again, it's a shame.

Why am I ranting about stockings? I'll tell you why. Have you ever opened a stocking and realized almost instantly that it wasn't yours? Then checked the outside and realized it was? Then checked the inside and realized it wasn't? How imensely confusing is that? Aparently over the night "Santa" got the stocking content confused, and gave all of my mom's stocking stuffers to me and all of mine to her. Clearly hanging out with all those reindeer in a sub-arctic enviroment does terrible things to one's mind.

By 7:30 the presents are torn open. My mom got a dead presidents fact book, my dad got a cargo net, my sister got a VILE baby alive doll and I got:

- A David Tennant as The Doctor action figure (complete with little sonic screwdriver!!)
- A Doctor Who original novel: The Price of Paradise
- A 50$ Gift card to Macy's (FIFTY DOLLARS...what am I going to do with all that?)
- A Doctor Who poster of The Doctor standing looking awsome infront of the TARDIS
- A Doctor Who K-9 keychain
- Two t-shirts, one that says "They say I have ADD, but I think...ok look, a chicken!" and another one that says "Watch it or you'll end up in my novel"
- The Doctor Who Soundtrack (and mousepad and badge)
- A grey sweatshirt
- A blue sweater
- A gift card to iTunes
And by far the most useless yet still incredibly cool gift all year:
-A Doctor Who glass light, basically a pane of glass with the Doctor Who logo lit up in Neon Blue. No IDEA what I'm going to do with this...but I love it!

So yeah, that's my morning. By eight I've managed to read half the book and eat two cinnoman nut buns. At eight thirty I call my friends, see what they got. At nine I contemplate taking a shower but dad says there's no hot water so I end up waiting until nine-thirty. Relatives to come over at ten. At nine thirty I'm about to step into the shower when all the relatives show up, at once, completely unannounced a half an hour early. I don't even get time to put conditioner in or use the hair dryer. I open more presents, hair completely soaked, at ten.

I am aparently the hardest person in the world to shop for. No idea why this is, my friends tell me the same thing. This may be why I ended up receiving seven different notebooks and sketchbooks and six pairs of plain white socks for Christmas. Granted, I love notebooks and sketchbooks, and everyone needs socks. I was just sort of hoping I'd maybe get a pair of earrings or something...

Oh, and of course, the annual famed Aunty Gay gift. I've never met my Aunt Gay, nor do I think she's ever met me. I may have met her once when I was about three years old, and aparently in her world, that's the age I stay forever. This year my gift was the famed five story wooden jewelery box with little bumblebees and flowers painted on the side in pink. It is the most gastly thing I've ever seen in my life. If it really is the thought that counts, then what was she thinking? Anyone want it...anyone?

And so, that's Christmas morning for you. From four to eleven on December 25th, that was my life. At twelve thirty we sat down to have our Christmas dinner (see entry "Putting the England in New England") and at one thiry I quietly excused myself so I could obsessively watch the live streaming broadcast of Doctor Who: The Runaway Bride. Was in state of shock for the rest of the day after hearing David Tennant say Gallifrey, in character, on screen, in a cool and slightly menacing way. And I thought he only did that sort of stuff in my dreams...but let's not go there... Anway, by the end of the evening, while still in shock, I managed to have my book finished, my soundtrack dumped into iTunes, and a fan-fic started in one of my notebooks. All in all, a good Christmas. I even managed to find a place for the light, right at the foot of my bed, where bizarly enough is actually where my head is.

Merry Christmas to all.

And to all, a goodnight.


I Saw Three Ships

Christmas time is here. Happyness and cheer. Time for all...crap, I can't remember the words. Doesn't really matter considering it's the 29th now anyway and I haven't written anything since November. Sorry kids, been a bit busy.

First off, A Christmas Carol was fantastic! I had so much fun doing it, I nearly cried at the last show!! Even thought I just played a Londoner...and a few other small parts...It was probably one of the funnest things I've done in a while! Next show: Seussical the Musical, rehersals start January CANNOT WAIT!!!

But where else was I? Surely one play couldn't really have kept me offline for a whole month! Well...it basically did. That and the fact that I had to write two whole episodes of Doctor Who for Outpost Gallifrey's Series Three! Outpost Gallifrey is probably the best Doctor Who news site and forum on the web, a few of the forum members decided that instead of waiting till April for series three to come to the UK (which I don't live in, but I have my ways) they would write their own. They needed writers, I needed something to do backstage. It was a perfect match.

Anyway, I wrote two episodes, episodes two and six called "Dr. Martha Jones" and "The Missing Doctor", episode six is still being posted, but you're a member of their forums you can read episode two in it's entirety by going to the fan fiction section and looking for "OG's Series Three - "Dr. Martha Jones""If you're not a member, and for some bizarre reason still want desperantly to read my episodes, e-mail me and I'll send them to you. My e-mail is nnickrim@comcast.net (since I can't remember if it's displayed on the main page of the blog, how's that for not posting in a while!) The fact that I was up until four in the morning finishing episode six proves that I am truely, completely obsessed. What a sad person I am. I love it.

Let's see, what else has happened in my life that you should know about? Hm...I've started wearing a watch...that's fairly monumental...I got a David Tennant action figure, though without the trenchcoat...I found out my family heritage consists almost entirely of viking, pirating horse theives...they said Gallifrey on Doctor Who...oh that's right...


...and I also got some socks. Anyone want a five story pink painted jewelery box? Because I sure as heck don't despite what my Great Aunt might think...

Merry Christmas All, and a Happy New Year.


Tuesday, December 05, 2006

Putting the England in New England

So as I'm walking down the street one day, contemplating how I can best get my hands on a copy of "Song For Ten" from Doctor Who while simultaniously counting down the minutes to the airing of the new Doctor Who Christmas speacial "The Runaway Bride" (19 days, 21 hours, 04 minutes, 03 seconds at the time of this writing) I slowly begin to realize that I am addicted to England.

Granted, I live in New England, so that's really not all that rare, but I'm pretty sure it hasn't risen to this extent in most cases.

My entire life lately, has revolved around Doctor Who. Watching Doctor Who, writing about Doctor Who, wishing I was watching or writing Doctor Who, wishing I was in Doctor Who, drinking tea while watching Doctor Who. That's my life. When I'm not busy putting on a British accent in this year's production of "A Christmas Carol" in Manchester.

British slang, or at least what I consider to be British slang, has slowly begun to slip into my vocabulary. After watching Rose Tyler on Doctor Who though, how can you possibly not want to yell "Stop mucking about!" at your friend in the cafeteria?

My family isn't really helping either. In my house, BBC America is on all the time. If it's not The History Channel, or PBS, it's BBC. The radio is always turned to NHPR, so we're constantly getting reports from the BBC. My family is also addicted to tea, and aparently (in my mother's own words) has been since "The cave people first heated up water". The family "tea problem" didn't hit me until I saw the 1996 Doctor Who TV Movie where Sylvester McCoy sits around drinking tea at the begining. I suddenly thought "Hm...tea..." and I was gone. I've found myself unable to go a whole day without at least one or two cups.

Do you know what's in an English Christmas Dinner? I certainly didn't, until now. I didn't think they ate anything different then we do here, some turkey, some potatoes, that sort of thing. But aparently, according to my mother, this is what's actually in an English Christmas Dinner:

Standing Rib Roast
Chicken Pie
Yorkshire Pudding
Mashed Potatoes
Roasted Brussel Sprouts
Green Beans
Mince Pies

My apologies to those British people out there that may or may not want to kill me now, it's my mom's doing not mine (there's still a little American left in me, I used Mom not Mum) Anyway, it'll be an interesting Christmas over here, that's for sure.

So that's my life right now, trying to not sound too incredibly obsessed with Doctor Who (19 days, 20 hours, 29 minutes, 20 seconds) and the British in general. I wrote a 59 page Doctor Who script the other day though, so it doesn't look good. Anyway, hope you have a jolly good evening.

Tut tut,


Friday, November 24, 2006

Where In The World Is Nelly The Blogger?

Hello all! I'm back! I realize of course, that I haven't written since October, but I have an excuse!

My life has been as boring as hell.

Yes, ever since Haunted Acres ended, absolutly nothing has happened to me. An entire month with no activity short of babysitting and having my iPod stolen, (don't worry I got a new one) November wasn't really a month worth retelling. I tried several times to write a good blog entry during the month, but nothing seemed to come to me. I suppose I thrive on interesting things happening to me, and when nothing does it's just not worth talking about. I figure now that it's December, when I'm usually as busy as hell as opposed to as bored as hell, there'll be plenty of things to rant about on here.

My first order of buisness after returning from the dead, is to announce that I'm leaving again. But this time I'm only going for the weekend. To celebrate Thanksgiving (and because Miss Holly said so) my family is going to New York City to see the Radio City Rockettes Christmas Spectacular with my sister's dance school. My sister goes to Holly Jane Dance Center, the very same dance school I attended for ten years before leaving to pursue a carrer in drama and bloging. The drama thing's gone well...not too sure about the bloging. I'll let you figure that out. The point is though, that starting tomorrow, I'm going to be in New York. So don't expect any entries. My computer is here, not in New York.

My second order of buisness is to announce that I, Nelly, have gotten into the Palace Theater's annual production of "A Christmas Carol"!! Ok, you can stop aplauding, I was in it last year too. In fact, I played the exact same part last year too, Londener. I was suppose to get a chance to actually dance this year in the opening number, but since all teen girls have to be paired with a guy and all the teen guys are shorter then me, I'm left standing still...just like last year. Oh holy night.

On the bright side though, I get to be a Soprano this year, unlike last year where I was mysteriously made an Alto even though I'm naturally a Soprano. Honestly, I think they should just make me a tenor one year, just to screw everything up. So that's my life right now. Charles Dickens England. Oh well, at least it's not Haunted Acres. ANYTHING is better then Haunted Acres.

Oh, and for all those people out there who are mad that the world is constantly forgetting about Thanksgiving in favor of Christmas, here's a song for you. Enjoy:

(To the tune of "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas")

Have yourself a merry Thanksgiving
Let yourself eat pie
Even though you're on a diet
You've broken it, don't lie

Have yourself a merry Thanksgiving
You do remember what that is?
It's that little holiday that comes
Before Christmas

Here we are
In the department store
There's a wreath on the door, oh why?
Don't they know?
It's still November
Don't they remember?

Through the years we allways keep forgetting
Poor Thanksgiving day
From now on
You forgetters are going to pay
So have yourself a merry Thanksgiving day

Happy Thanksgiving All,


Saturday, October 28, 2006

The Blair Nelly Project

So personally, I think that witches need a bit of respect. While I've never met the Blair Witch, the Bell Witch, the Wicked Witch or the White Witch, I'm fairly sure they're not as bad as everyone thinks they are.

It's almost politically incorrect, my job. I hide in the shadows out in the woods of the New England Dragway, my face is green, I'm wearing a black dress with a black cape and black pointed hat and across the path from me is a couldren with green smoke seeping out of it. Once people come up the path, I jump out and chase them, screaming and cackling. It I were a real witch I would be offended.

When people come through my scene at Haunted Acres, they think one of two things a.) Dude look at that couldren, I hope it's alchohol they're brewing, or b.) This totally the Blair Witch. Once I pop out at them they either, scream, laugh, pat themselves on the back for figuring out that the Blair Witch is here, or think I'm a vampire.

First of all, I AM NOT A VAMPIRE!!! I don't know were people are getting this from. I mean, there's a smoking couldren right next to where they're standing, I'm clearly dressed up as a witch, I've got a black pointed hat on, and my face is green. Still, when people come through and I sneakily follow them down the path, they half the time still insist, "Hey...that vampire lady's still following us..." AHHHH!!!!! If you're going to bee a smart alec and refuse to at least pretend you're scared, at least make fun of me with the right name!! Vampire...grr...

Anyway, I may not be a vampire, but I'm perfectly fine with being called the Blair Witch. In fact, I think I was hired to be the Blair Witch anyway. I've never seen The Blair Witch Project (I've seen the thumb-spoof The Blair Thumb) nor do I have any intenstion of ever seeing it, but being given the title of "Blair Witch" is still quite an honor.

I just got a call from the Haunted Acres people. Looks like it's not going to matter what exactly I'm playing tonight since they've just shut down the Nightmare Walk. Severe rains up here in New Hampshire, maybe even becoming snow. I know I'm making a lot of money doing this, and I've just written an entire entry about how much I like having the "Blair Witch" title, but after hearing this news, I have but one thing to say:


*Ahem* Well, now that that's settled, I think I'm going to go use my free Saturday to do something a bit more productive then ranting to unsuspecting Blog readers. Which, by the way, I have five of now! Five whole readers! Yes!

So I guess I'll sign off here. Nothing else worth mentioning has happened in my life since my last entry. Haunted Acres pretty has been my life for the past month. Thank God October's almost over. Bring on November!!

Oh, I watched Torchwood the other day, that Doctor Who spin-off from Wales. It was really good. I'll post a full review at some point, when I don't have better things to be doing.

Forever Yours (or something),


Thursday, October 05, 2006

The Cat, The Witch, and My Mother

As I'm sitting here typing this I am extremely alarmed. Why am I so shocked? Because there is no large black/grey Maine coon sitting on my keyboard. Granted, he only seems to be attracted to the downstairs family computer (which I'm currently not using) but it's only a matter of time before he discovers that there's no one working down there, and feels the need to come to me.

My cat, I've decided, is extremely insecure. From dealing with several of my friends, I know insecurity when I see it. His excessive need to "feel loved" is says to me that he is deep down a very lonely cat. His desire for attention, however, is getting out of hand. His means of gaining the attention he wants has become extremely risky, and is starting to be exceptionally dangerous. If this deadly cycle of rolling all over the keyboard and the phone (and any other electronics on the desk) continues, he could find himself suffering even more from the trauma of being thrown outside in the cold! It is my hope that he finds help immediately so that this terrible habit may cease and he can get the attention he deserves in a healthy way. Without accidentally typing an entire row of A's in the middle of my history essay.

So anyway, moving on from that, I had my very first day at Haunted Acres yesterday...sort of. Not everything was set up yet, so what they basically did was show me three different options for things I could play and let me demand one. The choices went like this:
  1. First, I was offered the part of the abomidable snow man in the "freezer room" I was to wear a torn up snow suit and jump out at scare people. Once they decided that I really didn't want to be crammed into a tiny corner to pop out at people, and that I'm a wimp and get cold easily, the decided to move me.
  2. My second offer was for the part of the spinning masked screamer person. I was to stand in a wide spinner tube-like thing and scream at people in two directions with a mask on. Not only did I not particularly want to wear a mask (but I would have if I had to) but I figured that after a while I'd get dizzy.
  3. My final offer was when I finally asked "is it ok if I work out on the nightmare walk instead of in the house?" The coordinator asked, "can you play a witch?" to which my Dad responded, "She won't even have to ask." Take my advice people, never bring your dad to your first job interview. Anyway, I said a witch would be fine (a witch is my classic Halloween costume of choice anyway) and I got the job. I start tomorrow. As of yesterday I am officially a professional witch.
Have you ever tried to Google your name? Type in my name, and you get an obituary for a ship that tragically sunk in the 1920's. Type in my other name (I go by two different names, my real one and my nick-name) and you get a newspaper article from when I was eleven. Type in my mom's name, and you get a whole slew of paranormal websites.

The funny part about that is, my mother is the most incredible skeptic you will ever meet. One of her most famous (well, ok...famous in my house) quotes is "you don't have ghosts you have mice!" Yet, if you type her name into Google, going past all the columns she writes for the Exeter News Letter ("Historically Speaking" every other Friday...I think) you get ghost sites. You see, last October my mother had the brilliant idea of becoming the Exeter News Letter's official disenchantress, and wrote a whole article about ghosts, or the lack of ghosts. It doesn't really totally disprove or completely bash the whole ghost thing, it's more about how she wishes ghosts would give people a little bit more information.
Psychic: His name was...Nathanial!

Mom: Nathanial what?

Psychic: He doesn't just say...just Nathanial

Mom: Well God, this house was built in the 1700's, there were billions of Nathanials running around!

Psychic: He was sad when he died...

Mom: I'm sure some of those Nathanials running around were sad, it could be anyone!

And that's how the conversation would continue for about an hour or so. She had the same discussion with my junior paranormal investigator cousin, George, all the time too. My other article "The Ghosts of P.E.I." has more to say about that. If you ever find yourself getting all spacey and need a major reality check, come talk to my mom. She'll give you her views on the matter, and make you laugh hysterically while doing so. She won't try to completely convert you over to the land of skepticism, she'll just say what she thinks and let you think about it. When you leave. While you're with her she'll never give you a free moment.

Of course, It would probably be good to note that the only reason I'm writing all this stuff about my mom is that she recently came up to me at like 11:00 at night and said "Oh, I found your blog!" and asked if she could read the rest of it. I'm seriously going to have to be more careful about what I say here...mother's watching...

Bon Voyage!


Friday, September 29, 2006

How To Scare People For a Living

So recently, as in last Saturday, I was hired by Haunted Acres. Haunted Acres, for all those many readers I have that don't live in Southern New Hampshire, is a ginormous haunted house and "haunted walk" that is set up every year at the New England Dragway. It used to be set up at Pine Acres Campground in Raymond, hence the name "Haunted Acres", but has since expanded and moved on to the dragway.

Basically what happened was, I was scouring the internet for some Halloween related thing to do this October and decided to check the Haunted Acres website. At the botton there was this ad: "Always wanted a carrer in Hollywood (but couldn't becuase you live in Southern New Hampshire), like scaring people, and not afraid of the dark? Have we got a job for you!" Naturally, it was not something I could just pass up. I have no plays going right now, which for an actor is not a good place to be in, and since my next audition isn't until November, I figured this is as close as I was going to get at doing something acting related so I don't go crazy until November.

Basically, though I'm not sure yet since we haven't had our first rehersal, my job is to jump out and scare people. That's right, I am that desperate that I have decided to dress up in funny costumes, put on scary make-up and scare people every Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday until the end of October. It's a living.

The down side of course is that my October is now gone. I'm working both Halloween night and the night before (which here in New Hampshire is trick-or-treat night, since we're weird here) so I'll miss out on both of those. My four day weekend next week has been redused to a one day weekend since I'm taking that Saturday off for family matters (I'll talk about them when we get closer) No Halloween parties for me! I'm a working woman!

So, save me some candy and a pumpkin shaped cookie this October, and I'll mention you in the Blog. Anyone who can send me the most "Halloweenish" type thing that I'm going to miss by being in Haunted Acres will win a fabulous prize that I have yet to think of. I'll keep you posted.

Happy Hauntings!


Thursday, September 21, 2006

Time Warp Trio: A Review

Hello all! I have interesting news to report. It's something that has changed the course of my entire life lately. I now have to plan my entire day around it.

My seven year old sister had gotten me hooked on Time Warp Trio.

That's right, I said Time Warp Trio. For those in the dark, it's a show on Discovery Kids TV at 6:30 and 7:30pm. For a kids show, it's suprisinly well written and far more historically acurate then most. The animation is VERY good, I think it was done on Micromedia Flash, and it's overall a very entertaining show.

The premise is cool in itself. It's about these three boys, Joe, Fred, and Sam who travel through time with this magic book that Joe was given, on his birthday, by his strange magician uncle. Now I know you might be thinking "hey, this sounds like that other thing she told us she was obsessed with..." Doctor Who? Well, I know what I like. I aparently have a fetish for shows involving Time Travel. Go figure.

Anyway, the cool part about the show, is Joe. His overall goal is to become a magician, and initially isn't very good at it. What's cool though, is that he proves himself on occastion to be very good at the whole "Time Warper" thing. I like Joe. He's a cool dude. He did this thing one time where he waved his hand and spoke all slow and mysterious and went "slow" and managed to slow down this arrow that was headed strait for Fred. It was really cool!

I don't think I have any huge complaints about the show. Usually in these reviews there's at least one thing that bugs me. I guess Time Warp Trio is pure perfection in my eyes. Like Doctor Who.

So I guess this was more of a rant then an actual review. I'd write more, but it's about to come one. I can't beleive I'm hooked on a kids show. Oh well, could be worse. It could be Tutenstien.

Parting is such sweet sorrow,


Thursday, September 14, 2006

Neo Blog

Picture this: You wake up early in the morning to go to school/work/rehersal/ whatever, and you head for the kitchen. You get some breakfast, maybe make a cup of tea, and you realize you have forty minutes untill you have to leave. So to kill the time, you take your food and sit down at the computer. As you eat, you check your e-mail, your favorite webcomics, Outpost Gallifrey (a Doctor Who website) if you're me, and after this is done you go and check to see if your favorite blogger, the lovely Usagi Trees, has updated her blog this morning. So you click on your favorites and scroll down till you get to "The World is Very Strange" and you click on it. As it loads you take a couple more bite of your breakfast, maybe drink some of that tea...when all of a sudden...you begin to notice...


Well, there's no need to scream my friend (or foe, you decide), there is a perfectly logical explination for all of that. Let me explain. Earlier this evening I was "surfing" the web and discovered that there was this new version, this "beta" version of Blogger out. I firgured I'd try, because well...I have no life and I was bored. As it turns out, it's a pretty cool version. It has this cool page editor that you can use even if you have only a tiny knowledge of HTML (which would be me) and this "welcome" feature where you can annoy the hell out of your long-time readers by typing up this cute little "welcome to my blog, here's what's up" type thing.

So basically what I'm doing with this new "beta" thing is slowly re-vamping the blog. All I've done so far is play around with the colors and and a welcome thing. More might come up later, it might not (remember, I'm taking Biology this year!!) So just keep coming back to see what I've done with the place. By the time I've finally setteled on what I want it to look like and actually done, we might have a pretty snazzy looking blog here.

Oh, and while I have your attention, allow me to rant for a moment about how three new Doctor Who books have been released in the US on Amazon. THREE NEW DOCTOR WHO BOOKS HAVE BEEN RELEASED IN THE US ON AMAZON!!!! Yay.

(Oh, and I got braces today too. That's all I have to say)

Do well, thee.


Saturday, September 09, 2006

Nelly Explains Stuff: Sophmore Year

As of yesterday, I have completed my seventh day of tenth grade. After seven days, I think I've gotten the hang of it. Thought it will take me a while to not think of myself as a freshman. Here's what I've learned so far.
  1. Being a sophmore gives you the right to throw annoying freshman boys off your table at lunch. This may seem cruel, but it's his own freshman fault for sitting at a table full of sophmore girls in the first place. Stupid kid.
  2. Sophmore English is just Freshman English with a little more "American's Rock" stuff thrown in. I'm not kidding, I'm in honors level English and we're still doing "What makes an American?"
  3. Mrs. Supple (the sophmore health teacher) is the most frightening yet amusing person I have ever met. Her class is histerical, but my God I'm terrified of her! She has this intimidating presence...I wouldn't want to get on her bad side.
  4. No one ever guess that you're a sophmore. If you're tall, they thing you're a junior, if you're short they think you're a freshman, if you're average height they think you're either one or the other, but very rarely does anyone EVER say anything like "you're a sophmore right?"
  5. No matter how great your school is, sophmores must always complain about it. The freshman are all too intimidated to speak any ill of their new home, the juniors are too busy to care, and the seniors figure they're getting out soon. It's up to the sophmore class to notice every little flaw in how the school is run. Wether it's "There's too much traffic" or "The lunch line is too long" or even "Look at the scratch at the wall! It's the administration's fault!!" I'm not saying it's a bad thing, I do it too (the lunch line does take TOO LONG to get through, trust me)
  6. Sophmore are omnipotent. That's right, we know everything. Wether it's what teachers are good or bad, or where the health office is, we know everything! Even though my town just built a new school, so no one knows where they're going, the sophmores know still know everything. It's true, I know where you live.
  7. Geometry is a hell of a lot better then algebra. I know I'm only seven days into it, but I can actually follow this type of math, unlike algebra (which was a nightmare I almost failed) There's some algebra in it, but it's algebra I can handle. Really.
  8. Sophmores still have to take the bus. I didn't have to last year, as I lived so close to my school I could just walk. But this year, with the new school, I have to take the bus. I despise the bus, it's the most appalling mode of transportation one can ever ride in their lifetime. Granted, it's not quite as crowded as my bus back in middle school was, but I still don't like riding it. Plus, it doesn't drop me off until a little after three, meaning there's no one to pick up my sister at her school. A predicament, yes?
  9. There is SOOOO much more science homework in sophmore year then in freshman year. For Monday, I have to read 6 pages, do 6 questions and summerize it, do a 4 page graph packet and write a one page paper on what I observed while nature walking on Thursday. That's just one night of homework, for one class only! And over the weekend! You want to know what I saw on that nature walk? Mushrooms. Many colored mushrooms. How can one write an entire paper on mushrooms? Who knows?
  10. Surviving freshman year was quite a feat, now that you've done that, teachers tend to trust you a bit more. If you're late to class and you tell them it's because your bus is apallingly slow and was late, they beleive you. Freshman year, I couldn't have gotten away with that even if I did take the bus.
All and all, I'm quite liking sophmore year. It's far better then my first seven days of freshman year, where I was almost immediatly told I was failing math and my science homework was incomprehensible. Also, last in year in English we spent almost the entire first half of the year on personal narratives (so much time in fact, that I started to run out of personal experiences to write about. I'm really quite boring when you think about it) This year, though we're still on the whole "What Makes an American" topic, I know for a fact we're going to do other stuff. Maybe swith units before next semester?

A word to all you freshman out there, hang in there, it gets better. :)

Adeus Everybody! (That's suppose to mean goodbye in Portugese, don't blame me blame Bable Fish)


Tuesday, August 29, 2006

The Early Morning Sun

Where is it? People are always talking about how beautiful the early morning sun is, it's currently 6:22 AM, and I see no sun. Why am I up so early you might ask? It's not after Labor Day yet, she can't possibly be starting school, not if she lives in New England.

New Hampshire is stupid. I am in fact starting school on August 29, today.

Although, there are many redeaming qualities to New Hampshire. Our state motto, Live Free or Die!, is a bit threatening, but we're really nothing to fear. We're mostly just Southern Maine, with some more granite. Of course Vermont technically has more granite then us, but don't tell anyone!! It's the only thing we have to our name!

So today I start school, or rather in 15 min. I start school. We have three days of good, wholesome education, and then it's intterupted for a four day Labor Day weekend. Go figure. It was even worse last year when we had one day and then the four day weekend. Most schools in New England (except maybe Rhode Island, I don't really know much about you down there, you're too small to find anything about) wouldn't dare start before Labor Day. However, New Hampshire is extremely good at "breaking the mold" from what other states like to do up here. Our vacations are different, we often won't get Columbus Day or Martin Luther King Jr. Day off. Half the time we're stuck going back to school January 2, the day after a huge party (that's the Holiday Break of course)

God New Hampshire is wierd.

It's officially 6:30 now, meaning I have to go get my stuff together so I can leave by 6:40. My cousin Miriam in Maine...sleeping right now. Her state is sane. She doesn't start until next Tuesday. Viva la Maine.

I hate New Hampshire.

I really do.

Goodbye, Good Morning actually.


Friday, August 25, 2006

The Death of Sailor Pluto

The world weeps today (or rather yesterday) for the loss of the beloved planet Pluto. In the cold heartless world of astrology, Pluto no longer rates with the other large heavenly bodies of our fair Solar System. Having been demoted to the statis of "dwarf planet" we wonder, why?

Now when I say "we" what I mean is of course, Sailor Moon fans. Any person, be it fan, fanatic, hater, or neutral, anyone who has seen at least season two of the famous anime (Sailor Moon R) will know that Sailor Pluto, guardian of Time, has a crutial part in the outcome of Usagi's story.
As any die-hard fan will know, a Sailor senshi hosts the star seed of their guardian planet. Example: Sailor Mercury holds the star seed of Mercury, Sailor Saturn holds the star seed of Saturn, and until now Sailor Pluto held the star seed of Pluto. Here is were the trouble starts, now that Pluto is no longer a planet, there can be no Sailor Pluto.

Now this causes a lot of problems. First off, manga-wise, who is going to stop time so someone can grab the two Silver Crystals from Prince Dimond? The world have ended had she not done that. Also, in both versions manga and anime, Sailor Pluto is the holder of a talisman, one of the three objects needed to form the Holy Grail. Without the third talisman, the Holy Grail can't be formed, Sailor Moon can't become Super Sailor Moon, or the messiah and hence the world is not saved from the destruction of Mistress 9, the messiah of silence. And that just sucks.

And in the stars series, who is going to go and get Hotaru from her father so she can become Sailor Saturn? Of course, since Sailor Pluto wasn't there to give help create the Holy Grail, Misstress 9 would have already taken over Hotaru and there would be no hope of Sailor Saturn ever coming again. And way back in the R series, who would have given Chibi-usa the key to time? Of course, in the manga she stole it from Pluto, but who would she have to steal it from? Now Chibi-usa can't come from the future to the past to get Sailor Moon to come to the future to save her mom, who is Sailor Moon but in the future. Now the future is doomed!

And then there's the big question, who is going to guard the door to time? Time and Space are going be invaded and killed, and screwed up and it's all the intertional astronomer's fault! How can they do this? How can they take Pluto from us?

Farewell Sailor Pluto, we shall miss you dearly.


Tuesday, August 22, 2006

The Ghosts of Prince Edward Island

Welcome to Prince Edward Island, the beautiful home of many potato farms, Anne of Green Gables, and of course a ghost named Max.

But let me make this perfectly clear, Max doesn't actually live on Prince Edward Island. In fact, Max lives somewhere in limbo when he's not busy haunting my 14-year-old cousin in Massachusetts. However, I did hear a great deal about "Max" while I was vacationing in PEI last week, so it's almost like he/she was there.

Vacationing with my cousin George is always interesting. Occasionally annoying, but definetly interesting. Someday, he'll make a great paranormal investigator. We'll being seeing him on Sci-Fi someday with his own show about ghosts and where to find them, how to help them, and how to speak to them. He'd never have to write a script for it, since it's all he talks about anyway. It would be an understatment of the the worst kind to say that he is interested in Ghosts and the paranormal. My cousin is completely obsessed. An obsession rivaled only by my obsession with Doctor Who.

The fun thing about him though, is trying to decifer exactly what it is he's talking about. He's a bit like that Road Runner character on Loonatics Unleashed (bizarre cartoon my sister aparently likes) he likes to talk quite a bit, and extremely fast. He talks so fast that almost everyone that hears has no hope of understanding what he's saying and just stands there and nods when it seems apropriate. I am a fast talker by nature, there are times my friends have hit me to get me to slow down, so If I actually listen and pay attention I can usually understand most if not all of what George says. Though I have found that since he is usually talking about the same things, I can just zone him out.

My first full day in Prince Edward Island, I went to a county fair. The day was cold and overcast, and towards the end it rained buckets but I did enjoy almost every minute of it. The vacation group consisted of myself, my cousin (and probably best friend) Miriam, my parents, my sister, my cousin Lydia, my Aunt Cathy and Uncle Mark, and of course my cousin George. Though our family is very close, we very rarely did something in which we were all together. We typically split up into two or three groups.

As is tradition, when arriving at the county fair, the first thing we did was split up. Miriam and I were together, on vacations typically if you find me you find Miriam and vice versa. George, being the third oldest cousin was put into the "Nelly/Miriam" group and given $20. As we walked head on into the games and rides part of the fair, it was early afternoon, there was no rain, we had plenty of money and life was good. Our first endevour was a fun house, the likes of which I hadn't actually been in since I was nineish. I wanted to ride the Tilt a Whirl after that, Miriam refused due to motion sickness, so I went on with George instead. I had a good time with him on it (though our car didn't really spin all that much). I managed to conquer my somewhat irrational fear of Ferris Wheels, and it turned out to be one of the most amazing experiences of the vacation. You could see the entire island from up there. If you ever get the oportunity to see a birds eye view of Prince Edward Island, do it.

The bumper cars were fun, Miriam and George and I killed eachother effectively (not literally of course, I would have to be a ghost to be writing this) My personal favortie ride, the Scrambler, was made even better by making stupid faces at George everytime his car went past mine. It was after this that the trouble started.

It all started when George said "I'm out of money", how and where he managed to spend $20 so quickly, I may never know. What this meant was though, we had to go find his mom (my Aunt Cathy) so he could ask for more money. It took us about a half an hour to find her, even with a walky-talky. George, who again talks extremely fast, was trying very hard to communicate exactly what it is he wanted to know (where are you?) to his mom on the other end. I eventually had to grab the thing away from him and ask her myself. Over the course of the day, I became quite used to doing that untill I just took it permanently. We did manage to find her and get George more money and after stopping George from letting lose the sheep and chickens downstairs ("they don't want to be locked up!") we made our way back to the rides and games.

You know how in cartoons, when it rains, the umbrella always gets blown inside out? I never thought umbrellas actually did that. I proven wrong however when my cheap, red umbrella was blown inside out by the extreme, pouring wind and rain that had apeared while we were inside looking at animals. It was gold and wet and windy, so naturally George was hell-bent on going back to games. I did manage to win a cute Sylvester the cat stuffie! It was fun at first, untill George ran out of money again...right in front of the "win a playboy bunny" stand.

He pretty much threw a fit, the likes of which I haven't seen since the trip up with my seven-year-old sister. It was actually rather amusining, watching George and me and the playboy bunny guy. We all seemed to have different goals. George's was to get money from an unspecified source (me or Miriam) and play the game to win a "bunny". Miriam's was to calm George down and let him know exactly what he would win (a playboy bunny). The playboy bunny guy's was to get George even more bent on playing the game, and aparently to hit on me. That's right, in Canada I was hit on by a playboy bunny guy. He didn't hit on Miriam, just me. He started off by calling me an either "full grown woman" or "full bodied woman" dependent on who you asked, and then just generally flirted and hit on me. Naturally, this made my goal to kick the playboy bunny guy in the balls and get George out of here and to the gate we were suppose to meet the rest of the family at. I acheived one of these goal eventually, buy dragging George by the shirt in the pouring rain, kicking and screaming, to the gate. We had an argument over which spot was actually the gate ("NO GEORGE!!! SEE HOW THERE IS NO GATE HERE!!!!! THIS IS THE SIDE OF THE FUNHOUSE!!!) and I ended up literally dragging him by his shirt in the pouring rain to the other gate, people were staring, but I was cold and wet and miserable and didn't care.

This is basically what traveling with George is like. He talks rapidly about ghosts and tries to prove he's ALWAYS right. It's really fun getting him talking with my mother, an extreme ghost sceptic. Their debates can last hours, days, or even years. So after all the ghost stuff I've been through this week, you might wonder what my opinion is on the matter. I am the daughter of the worlds most concrete sceptic Unitarian, my mother. However, I am also the cousin of the worlds most obsessed, believing, paranormalist, George. Spending a week with both of them has left me...confused.

I find it interesting, how someone can beleive something so completely one way, and how another person can beleive the exact opposite. Each person truely beleives they are right. I find it hard to side with one person because how can I just ignore someone else's beleifs? When two people try to get me to side with them, and feel so passionate about what they're telling me, how can I just pick one and cast aside that other passion. I don't quite know who to beleive. I have the same problem with religion, my beleifs are all very abstract.

Anyway, putting all the philisophical stuff aside, the trip was awsome! Prince Edward Island is absolutely beautiful, and all the dirt there is red!! It looks like that other brick road in the Wizard of Oz movie that intertwines with the yellow-brick-road. I finally know where it goes! It's also famous for being the place that "Anne of Green Gables" takes place in. Pretty much, anything you want you can find on PEI and you can find it with Anne of Green Gables plastered on it. Which is great if you're an avid fan of the books, like me. I even got to meet Anne at "Avonlea Village". I didn't actually say anything to her, but my sister got her picture taken with her. Plus I got to see Anne cream Gilbert with a slate, which made me happy. And there was the beach, an incredible swimming/rock climbing experience. The rocks were red too! It was awsome, it really was.

Oh, and if you should ever come across a ghost named Max, and they're looking for a person named George, don't scream. Calmly tell Max that George lives in Massachusetts, remember? After that, Max will probably leave, George claims that most ghosts only stick around long enough to give you a message they need delivered, and half the time don't know who they are.

Au revoir!


Thursday, August 10, 2006

Three Moons Over Millford: A Review

So the other day (I don't quite remember which day, it's summer you know?) I had the pleasure of catching what may or may not have been the premiere of Three Moons Over Millford. I say that because I've been gone for two weeks so they could have premiered it earlier, I wouldn't know.

My God, I hope the moon stays in tact. I always imagined the end of the world would be a bit more...frantic. The characters on the show choose to simply go about their daily lives and live life to the fullest as opposed to panicing, a good philosophy if you ask me. The term "the sky is falling" is given new meaning on this show, as the characters calmy await their impending doom.
The main premise of the show is that the moon has been hit by an asteriod (sp?) and has now split apart into three main peices with slightly smaller peices falling to Earth at random moments. The smaller falling peices, dubbed "moon chunks", have been incorperated into society. Of course, at some point in the near future for the characters, the moon is going to completely break apart, falling to Earth and destroying us all. Different people take the news differently, and the show focuses on how different people in the small town of Millford react.

On one hand, we have the seemingly mild mannared Davis family, teenagers Alex and Lydia living with their mother Laura. The family are newcomers to Millford, having moved their for buisness purposes involving their father. The father, ends up completely ditching the family so he can go climb mountains before the world ends. For some reason, this means that by the end of the first episode, the Davis family has gone from riches to rags in an hour. While Laura tries to deal with her husband's departure and the family's impending impoverishment, the teenagers get into their own amount of trouble. Alex, ends up accidentally getting romantically involved with 30-year-old Claire Ling. She thinks he's on a break from colledge, Alex having done the typical TV teenager thing and lied about his age. Lydia, in what is probably one of the most unique and amusing plots to the show, ends up burning down her school which practicing witchcraft. In her defence, she was trying to get the moon back to together. It was on Wicca.com.

Then there's this Mack guy. It's so completely obvious that he and Laura are going to have something going on in the future. Even though, some girl he used to know has just made contact with him again, it's going to end up that he and Laura pursue some kind of a relationship. No doubt, he will eventually have to decide between the two women, in a plot that reminds me incredibly of Gilmore Girls. Mack's plot isn't all bad though. The sub-plot with his mother buying him a trip around the world because she's distraught that he's never been anywhere and the world's about to end, is funny. The fact that he doesn't want to except the trip, and would rather spend the end of his days in the same town he's never left is an amusing twist as well. It's like the anti-George Baily.

All and all, the show is really good. It's a creative way of viewing the end of the world. The show focuses more on character development then plot, though that might change as more episodes air. The acting is also quite good. Much better then the recently reviewed Kyle XY. None of the actors seem like they're pushing their character, which is nice. It's a very funny, quirky, apocolyptic show.

10/10 - I hope it turns out ok for Millford.

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

The Revenge of Nelly

I'm back!! Actually, I've been back for several days now, I've just been too lazy to post. I got back at around five on Saturday only to discover that most of my house had been ripped apart or moved in my absence. That's right, in the two weeks I was gone my parents decided that this would be an excellent opportunity to move the family to the living room and literally rip apart the family room. So now, the formerlly clean, nice, quiet living room (which we never really used) is covered in my seven year old sister's toys and a TV set. And the family room is a dusty, carpetless mess with no electricity.

Though for what it's worth, the floor underneath the family room's disgusting carpet is quite nice. It's a bright wooden floor, like the kind in my room (which I've always liked). So really, the dustyness aside, it's actually a vast improvment on the original.

My house being almost entirley different is just one of a few major changes in the world since I've been gone. Going away for two weeks and then coming back is somewhat of a shock, it's like I'm re-aquainting myself with the world. Here's a list of the all important things I've noticed have changed since I've been gone.

1.) ABC Family changed their layout and their slogan! The font they use is all different and what is with that whole "a different kind of family" thing? I mean, it's true they show many things on that channel I wouldn't dare show on a "family" network (there's a certain episode of Kyle XY that proves that, fans should know what I'm talking about) but please, they're not that different, it's still a Disney owned company.

2.) I have completely lost track of Kyle XY. From what I've heard, there's been a billion revelations about his past and a million new characters, and I don't know about any of them. My parents were suppose to record the two episodes I missed for me, but it apears that I am the only one who knows how to use the DVD recorder as the DVD they sent me was blank.

3.) The BBC has announced when they are going to air Torchwood more or less. Not that this makes a bit of difference to me since I live in the US and not England, but I can still catch it on YouTube probably. I have my ways...or rather my friend Casey has her ways...

4.) YouTube's layout is somewhat different too, it's harder to search for specific things I've found. Of course, that could just me being wierd.

I think that might actually be it. It all seemed fairly big when I first got back, but writing them down here makes it all look fairly trivial. Maybe I should spice my list up a bit...

5.) While I was gone, researcher's from a sercret intelignece taskforce discovered my friend Valerie's long lost brother Perry. He had been living on the second floor of thier garage and had been planning to murder her father by hijacking the Hood Blimp. Thankfully though, the taskforce managed to capture him at the Hood factory in Maine and finally expose the truth to Valerie's family. Unfortunetly, as soon as the truth was exposed, he escaped again. His current whereabouts are unknown. However, the Hood Blimp is safe. This is all that matters.

True story. Really. Maybe. Sort of.

I'll let you figure that one out. Anyway, the point is that I'm back, safe and sound from UNH's Summer Youth Music School. I managed to survive two weeks without once being thrown into the white hot pit of flaming asparagus or anything. All and all, it was extremely fun. This was my first time being at SYMS for two weeks, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I'm definitly going back next year.

I suppose I should go now, since I should technically be finishing this story I'm writing about a girl who ends up at a music school. I wonder where I got that idea...I won't go there.

So long!


P.S - Do you hear the people sing? (only a few people will get this)

Wednesday, August 02, 2006


You may have noticed I haven't posted in a while, and beleive me there's a very simple reason for that. Since last Monday I've been at UNH (University of New Hampshire) at the Summer Youth Music School (cleverly abreviated as SYMS, pronounced like "Sims") It's kind of like going to summer school, but with less actuall school work. You get to live in the dorms for two weeks and use the AWSOME dining hall. It's actually pretty cool.

Oh, and for the record I'm still there. Like, I'm typing this on some computer in an internet cafe. Just thought you'd like to know that...whoever you are.

Anyway, I'm rooming with my friend Emily which is fun. My first summer at SYMS I roomed with a complete stranger who ended up ditching me everyday to go hang out with her own friends. I kind of wonder why she didn't just room with her friend, since her friend ditched her roommate to hang out with mine. Go figure. The next year (last year) I roomed with my friend Valerie who opted not to return as it was discovered she HATED the intrument she was majoring in. That was MUCH better then the first year, a lot nicer to have someone to talk to on my way to breakfast in the morning. Aparently, Valerie liked being at SYMS a lot better then actually playing her instrument here. I can kind of understand thing though, as her instrument is a giant drum. Try lugging a giant drum to five classes all scattered around the UNH campus. Not fun.

And now there's Emily. Emily and I have a very interesting friendship. Don't get me wrong, we're really good friends, it's very fun to hang out with her, but we have a tendency to argue over EVERYTHING. Sometimes the arguments are amusing, and sometimes they end in near tears. We usually manage to stick things out though. The point is though, there was some initial concern with the two of us sharing a room for two strait weeks in the heat (it's 102 degrees here today) I can safely say however, that we have managed to survive with all of our limbs in tact. (Although I cut myself on her mirror yesterday morning, I was gushing blood and we had to call the RA. It was totally my fault though, since I'm the one that broke it) No incredibly huge fight has happened, other then usual frequent annoyed banter. We only have three out of five classes together, so it's not like we're in eachother's faces all the time. Life's been good here.

Of course through all my years at SYMS (except my first, which I don't consider quite cannon) there's been Krisjar. I met Krisjar during concert chior last year, when we were forced to sit next to eachother in the Soprano section. Neither of us can quite remember the exact moment we became friends, but it happened at some point last July. She's a bit like me, a bit hyper, somewhat eccentric, and majors in voice every year. She was a great friend to me last year, especially since Valerie wasn't in virtually any of my classes. However, I had my own group of friends and she had hers, so we really didn't get all that close outside of choir and theory.

This year, I walked into the dining hall for the first time with Emily and she greeted me with a "HI NELLY!!!! Do you remember who I am?" To be perfectly honest, I didn't remember who she was at first. I knew she had been that girl I was friends with during choir, but I couldn't remember anything else, like her name for instance. I went to introduce her to Emily by saying something like "Emily this is...?" Thankfully she finished it for me. This year we've gotten a lot closer, she's been almost like a second roommate to me. Krisjar's never had that much luck with roommates, last year she layed eyes on her roommate once, and after the first day came back to find that she had misteriously dissapeared. This year, her roommate is a short, skinny girl with strait brown hair and a sort of "preppy" look to her. Kristjar has dubbed her "scarey" and tries to spend as little time as possible with her. Quite honsetly I think Krisjar's roommate is very nice, she even likes Starwars.

With the help of Kristjar, Emily and I managed to form a rather large gang of friends within the first hour of our being there. The three of us sat down at a table in the dining hall, and within seconds Kayla, a girl Kristjar had met earlier, came over and sat down too. Emily went to go look for napkins and came back with someone named Rachel who she had met in the New Hampshire State Youth Chorus. I went up to get more coke from the soda machine, and found Ann from the school band at school. That was the main group from then on, though a few other people have joined. We met a tall girl with brown hair who refused to tell us what her name was. I of course immediatly assumed that she didn't have a name and was in fact just a figment of our imaginations. Nonetheless, we threatened her at one point to tell us what her name was or we'd call her "Dr. Spock" for the next two weeks. She didn't comply, and Emily dubbed her "SPOCKA!!!" But it's not just "Spocka" you have to say it as if you were about to attack someone, this proved a bit too difficult for me so I've just been callin her "Figment" Even now, when we know what her name is (Shauni) we still call her that.

Another somewhat interesting addition to our happy circle of friends, was a guy named Tom. We had a murder mystery party last Sunday, out in front of the dorms, and a bunch of us were killing time before it started by playing "Go Fish" in front of the dining hall. We were all dressed like our murder mystery characters, and Krisjar's happened to be a Goth limo driver. When it was my turn I turned to her and said, "So, my gothy friend..." and just as I said it this guy walked past and turned his head. He's been hanging out with us ever since, he even took the extra character we needed for the party. In getting to know him, it became quite apparent that he and Kristjar were hitting it off. They were SO much alike it was scary. At one point they would burst out in the same commment at the same time. It was almost as if they were the same person...

Me being me of course, immediatly began coming up with theories as to why they were so incredible alike. My original thought was that he was secretly her brother or something, but that was shoved out the window for something more realistic, like that he is Kristjar but from another dimension. The possiblity that he was Kristjar from a Bizzaro planet also came up, leading us to start calling him "Bizzaro Krisjar" or just simply "Bizzaro". What kind of relationship the two of them have, is currently unknown but I would like to take the opportunity to state that she does have a boyfriend.

So other then the people, and out of class "goings ons" this year is pretty much the same as last year, only longer. My classes are fun, but long. I still have to get up at six EVERY morning to get to breakfast and convocation at eight. The only major difference is that unlike last year, no one got their hand crunched in an elevator and made her roommate suffer and emotional shock, forcing her to go home. Nothing like that this year. Though my roommate gave us all the plauge (or an awful cold that felt like it was the plauge) forcing us to miss classes on Friday. But it could be worse. This year I have a DVD player, a giant fan, and a mini fridge in my dorm room so life is pretty much good right now.

Oh, and before I sign off, I would just like to take this oppurtunity to say that the dining hall here is AMAZING!! Everykind of food you could want and more! I love it! If you ever get the chance to eat at the Holloway Commons Dining Hall, do it. It's incredible.

I'll return on Saturday, and shortly afterwards will post a more in depth report of my stay here.

See you Sunday!

*Nelly* (Coming to you from the UNH internet cafe)

Thursday, July 13, 2006

She's Got Moxie!

A Moxie festival!! My mother took me to a Moxie festival! Some teeny, tiny, insignificant town called Lisbon Falls has this big weekend long festival called "Moxie Days". And yes, I mean the soda.

I don't even like Moxie.

Anyway, we had this HUGE storm the other day over here in New Hampshire. I was abruptly awoken by this incredible clap of thunder only to discover that it was not just terrentially raining, but it was also hailing. Add some tornado like winds, and that was my Tuesday. I spend the first few hours running around my house like a crazy person making sure we had food, water, lights, and that the cats weren't dead. I managed to call my family (ever member of which was conveniently in a different place) before the power went out, twice. At some point, I don't quite remember when, my friend Valerie came over and the weather started to lighten up for a bit.

Of course, when I say "for a bit" I mean about a half an hour. With no power, Valerie amused ourselves by playing Battleship (I lost, by the way. Potential end of the world and I lost at Battleship!) and were about to embark on an exciting game of Monopoly when the great flood returned. We gathered up every light source we could find, I think it was one flashlight, three lanterns, two oil lamps, one candle, and a reading light, and went down into my basement. We also managed to collect in the chaos a box of wheat crackers (which actually tasted quite good, you should definetly try some sometime) and an UNO deck. About five minutes after we finally got ourselves setteled down there, and I had begun to deal the UNO cards, the wall started spewing water. That's right, my downstairs, colonial, basement (my only sanctuary from the apocolyptic storm outside) started to leak.

It would be wrong to say I paniced. I didn't quite panic. I did however scream "THE WALLS ARE LEAKING!!!!" at the top of my lungs. The "leaking" soon stopped though, and we began our game with lighter spirits.

Needless to say, Valerie and both found the entire ordeal utterly hilarious. We spent a great deal of time down there laughing about our current plight. Whether it was the wall leaking, or the oil lamp burning out, or the oil lamp smelling like hell (My God, those things stink!) we managed to get a great laugh out of it all. I'm not entirely sure how long we actually spent down there. It's summer you know, your sense of time just goes down the drain. I'm pretty sure we didn't spend anymore then two hours down there. Eventually the storm calmed down and my Dad came home and told us to come back upstairs. He seemed to think we were being rediculous or something. But you know, he wasn't there when the storm was at it's peak, and my mom agrees, she would have done the same thing.

The hail did little to know damage to the house, aside from making our deck look like a wreck. My mom's car was completely trashed though. The hail had produced deep divits all over her car and broken her windshield. She got it fixed though. Other then that, the storm had pretty much no effect on me. The power came back a few hours later, and we watched Doctor Who.

It was a funny storm though. We had no warning about it, or at least I didn't. I hadn't even been expecting it to rain. And then all of a sudden, I wake up and all hell has broken lose in my backyard. Another wierd thing is that it doubled back, and actually hit us twice. What the storm did prove however, is how different people handle a crisis. Valerie, for example, is very useful to have in a crisis. She's very calm, always make's sure we have what we need, and usually lightens the mood a bit by saying the entire thing is histerical. I, however, proved to be useless in a crisis. I run around manically closing windows, getting lights, yelling at Valerie to do stuff. I probably just should have ran to the basement and let Valerie handle everything.

All and all though, it's been a pretty exciting week. I mean with Moxie festivals and apocolyptic weather. And then after all that, it went back to being really boring. I've spent my last two days sitting at home and taking messages for people. For example:



"No, this is Nelly, her daughter."

(disapointed) "Oh." (Suddenly cheefull as if talking to a little kid) "Well then, could you please take a message for me?"

"Sure" (takes out pad of paper) "Ok."

"Do you have a pad of paper?"

"Yes, I do. And a pencil, you can give me the message now."

"Well alright. This is Sally from Stratham Vet, that's S-T-R-"

"I know how to spell Stratham, Miss."

"Oh, right. Sorry. Anyway, this is Sally from Stratham Vet calling to confirms Hunneman's apointment for Friday. Do you have all that?"

"Yes, thank you."

"All right. Take care dear. Bubye."

If I have to take one more message from one more overly cheerful reseptionist I think I'll take the message in Spanish. No wait, Lithuanian. That will REALLY confuse people!! Anyway, that's been my life for the past two days. It's been so routine that yesterday just sort of feels like an extenstion of today. I'm like that guy in Groundhog Day, trapped eternally in the dull exsistance of one single day.

However, the storm totally made up for that. Before my grandfather died (see, "In Memorium") he was a meteorologist, or a weatherman. He would have loved a storm like this. A few of my younger cousins are convinced he's up there controling the New England weather now. And you know what, I might just beleive that. If he did see how relativly boring our lives have all been lately, I could totally beleive he sent that storm to keep us on our toes. Sometimes a good crisis is all you need.

Adios Amigos.

Friday, July 07, 2006

Magical Mystery Tour

The magical mystery tour, is coming to take you away...

So tomorrow, I'm being taken on a trip with my family. Where am I going? I have not the foggiest. My mother and sister refuse to tell me where I'm being taken. Tricky aren't they? All I know about it is that it's an all day thing, in Maine, and I have to wear an orange shirt. Oh, and I have to pack a lunch...in a shoebox.

This totally sounds like something my mom would do to me.

Anyway, I'll keep you posted about what actually happened. I'm thinking it's somekind of festival, maybe the orange shirt festival? They said there's no rides, but there will be food. So why do I have to bring a lunch in a shoebox? Who knows. Talk to you later!

Tuesday, July 04, 2006

In Memorium

You may have noticed that I have not posted for quite some time on here. It's not due to the usual reason of not posting (I usually lose interest), no I'm soon on medication for that. The real reason I have not posted is far worse, far grimmer, far more personal.

On Thursday, June 29th, at 4:30 in the morning my Grandfather John A. "Jack" Rimkunas died.

I recieved the news at around 10:00 AM that morning from my father. I was due to spend the night at my friend's house for her birthday that night. After hearing the news I was indecisive as to whether or not I should go. In the end I decided that it would be in my best interest to be with my friends that day. That evening when I arived and told them the news, they weren't quite sure how to react to me. I acted somewhat erratic, switching at random from very quiet to very loud and back again. I wasn't quite sure how to act myself actually.

I got through the entire day without crying. I assumed that it would hit me all at once eventually, probably at the funeral, and I would start crying my eyes out. Time however, proved me wrong. That night I couldn't sleep. I would be starting to drift off when suddenly I would be hit with a memory of my Grandfather and snap awake. My poor friend Casey put up with me beautifully. She got about as little sleep as I did.

The next day was uneventful. My mother (whose father had died) came home and oddly enough, I was screened for ADD at a phycologist's office. No one talked. My normally incredibly hyper-social family fell silent. It was a strange day of contemplation. That night I wrote a letter to my Grandfather. I knew he would not be able to read it, but I did it anyway. I could have sworn I heard him say "thanks Nell!". Again, I did not cry.

Saturday was spent in Maine, where I would be staying for the next three days. My family wrote a eulegy, and I was assigned the task of reading a peice with my cousin Peter. They figured we would be the ones to do it without crying. It was a simple offeratory reading, narrating what was being carried to the alter by another cousin at the time. We practiced it once and nothing went wrong. Another day went by without crying.

Sunday was the Wake. Every reletive I knew, and several I didn't, showed up. "Poppa"(as we called him) was at the front of an ornatly decorated room with many chairs in a casket. He looked peacefull, if not heavily made up, and anyone could have seen how sick he was. Old memories and stories filled the air in the funeral home all day until 4:00. We broke for dinner after that and my family checked in at a Motel. We ate dinner at a Denny's between the motel and funeral home with my Aunt Cathy, Uncle Mark, and cousins Miriam, George and Lydia. I actually had an incredible amount of fun at dinner that night. It's strange how out of a tragety so grave can come one of the best experiences of your life.

I spent the night at my cousin Miriam's house, after finding that the Motel 8 we were staying at was full of suspitious men and the smell of cigarettes and booze. Even at a wake, I was tearless.

We gave our last respects the next day, at the funeral home before going to Holy Martyrs Catholic Church for the funeral. As I knealed before the casket with my cousin Miriam, not familer with Catholic tradition, I didn't realize that this was the last time I would ever see him. I didn't understand it when the funeral director said "you may pay your final respects now". I cursed myself on the way there for noticing the overuse of lipgloss on his body rather then saying farewell. I was put in the last car of the procession, I remember putting the purple funeral flag onto my cousin's care and thinking how strange it was that the majority of us were not traveling with our immediate families. The car ride there was not somber, but joyous in fact. My family is not one to wallow, and as opposed to sitting in saddened silence we talked merrily about the time we had with him. We theorised that he now controls the unpredictable weather in New England, due to his love of meteorology. We arrived at the church in good spirits.

The coffin was blessed in front of the family only in the lobby of Holy Martyrs at 11:00 AM. It was carried to the front of the church with us in tow. My grandfather had seven children and thirteen grandchildren. Each of us had a specific part in the service. He had planned it out before he died, and we did exactly as he said. My aunts and uncles read Bible psalms, and letters. My Aunt Cathy sang a Catholic intersession while my Aunt Allie sang Ave Maria, both absolutly incredible. I rose and went to the back of the church with the rest of my cousins, the grandchildren, just before we were due to do our part. My cousin Peter and I walked suprisingly gracefully to the front of the church and stood at the pulpit behind the alter and waited. As the first set of my cousins came up the isle, my cousin Peter started the reading off. We traded off everytime a new set of cousins with a different set of Poppa-related artifacts came up the isle. I ended it with an emotional reading about a prayer shawl the entire family had pitched in to make him near the end of his life. It was with him when he died.

I remember thinking as I walked back to my seat in the church, about how little I had contributed to that shawl. Mind you, I can't knit, or sew, or do much of anything involving string of any form. I'm not a very crafty person. But deep down I was still horribly guilty, and felt deeply that I could have done more. I should have been able to do something. It was here, during the rather upbeat eulegy, while I was deep in this thought that I almost broke down in tears. I was ready for it, tissue and all, but the tears didn't come. Not a single drop. Even as we walked out, and everyone was crying I was dry. I wondered around comforting people, giving them tissues, hugging them, telling them it was ok to cry. I'm such a hypocrite sometimes.

I've always been VERY close with my cousins. They are like my best friends. Never before had I felt so close to them then after that service, comforting them in the lobby. We had a huge group hug, tearful and smiling all at the same time. Words can't quite convey the scene in the lobby, it was emotional to the max. The entire family, all 50 of us, went out to "The Village Cafe" for lunch. Our family had a history with the family that owned resteraunt, and they were deeply sorry about our loss. The lunch was (to put as many synonyms in here as possible) lively, merry, enjoyable, fun, and sociable. I was one of the most fun times I've ever had. We had a huge toast, not carring who saw us, to my grandfather. Several people not in our party, who had never heard of us before, joined in the toast anyway. My only complaint was the incredibly small portion of shirmp I got. I didn't need to cry there.

One of the saddest weekends of my life, it was definatly one of the most memorable. Even now, I find myself unable to cry and after all this emotion, I don't really think I need to. Outsiders, not knowing my family at all, would have thought this this the most lively funeral they'd ever seen. I find it truely amazing that out of one person's death, a loved one's death, such an incredible amount of life and activity and mystery can be born.

In Memorium: John A. "Jack" Rimkunas: November 20, 1934 - June 29, 2006

Poppa, I'll miss you. You were the only person I ever beat at chess. Goodbye.

Thursday, June 22, 2006

The Phantom of the Opera: A Review

So, this Christmas I finally managed to get my own copy of Andrew Lloyd Webber's "The Phantom of the Opera" The Movie. I had seen the movie once before, in a cold movie theater with my friend. I had had extremely high expectations for the film, mostly coming from having spent nearly seven years in idle worship of the stage musical. I had seen the musical twice, once in Boston and once in New York on Broadway (second row, orchestra seats!) as well as having read the book, I was well known as the resident Phantom expert amongst my social circle. Of course, I saw the movie.

There were time during that movie when I wondered why I had come. Don't get me wrong, I did like the movie. It was a very good adaption of both the stage musical and Gaston Leroux's original book. The extra back story given to Madam Giry I found strikenly similar to the story of the Persian from the book. I found the acting to be for the majority quite good and the few changes to the story and the to the play in general worked well.

I had mixed feelings about Christine. Emmy Rossum was very good and managed to hit the part almost perfectly. Christine is a tough part to play in acting and in vocals. On stage two people have to share the role and switch almost every other night. I guess it was how the character was written that bugged me. On stage, Christine has a rather strong presence. She has a great scene where she gets to insult Carlotta, and is not nearly as much of a suffering innocent as they made her in the movie. And was it just me, or was Emmy Rossum trying to put on a British accent towards the begining of the movie? I swear there was a hint of British to her voice at the very begining of the film that she seems to have abandoned about 20 min. through.

Raoul was...well...Raoul. I always liked this character. He didn't really have much personality and he spends most of both the musical and the book being perpetually confused. He's got a sort of charm to him in how he doesn't really do much. Except in the movie. He did a lot in the movie. I really didn't know Raoul could horseback ride. And bareback. Impressive.

Here's my biggest issue with the film. Gerard Butler, ugh! What an awful phantom! I mean, his acting was brilliant, but his singing was AWFUL!! God, the phantom is suppose to have the most amazing voice ever heard by human ears. He is supposed to sound unearthly good. But Gerard, oh Gerard, he sounds like a growling bear trying to sing! They really should have had someone better play the Phantom. Maybe the guy who played Raoul? He was good, he would have made a good phantom. But Gerard Butler, great acting, terrible singing.

So all and all, I liked the flim. It wasn't nearly as good as the stage version of course, but did anyone really expect it to be? Emmy Rossum and Patrick Wilson were both very good, great choices for the characters. I won't even go into Gerard Butler. They may have changed where the chandeleir fell, but that still didn't make him any better.

Oh, and what the hell was up with that sword fight in the cemetary? I wanted to see the Phantom shoot deadly balls of fire or lightning (dependent upon your preformance) from some random stick thing! That is one of the favorite parts in the musical! I mean, I guess I can understand not having it there, it would be rather hard to do it on film and have it look good. But a sword fight? God, at least put something there that showcases the Phantoms magician, almost unearthly, qualities and skills.

8/10 Needs a better Phantom.

Nelly Explains Stuff: Doctor Who

Many of you are probably wondering what this hell this "Doctor Who" thing I keep talking about is. Well, let me tell you. (You may want to sit down)

Doctor Who is Great Britan's longest running Sci-Fi show in existance. It is also by far the greatest show in exsistance. The show centers around a man called "The Doctor" who travels through time and space in a space ship permanantly stuck looking like a police box. The show has been on the air since 1963, and abiet being technically cancelled in 1989, it was ressurected (or regenerated, but we'll get to that later) in 1996 for TV movie and eventually returned to being a full fledged series in 2005. The new series is still going strong today, and is of course my favorite show!

So, now that we've got that covered, let me tell you a little bit about the show itself. As previously mentioned, the show's main character is a man called only "The Doctor". Not much is really known about the Doctor, and what we do know is mostly bizzare. Here is what we have discovered over the course of the series' run:

1.) The Doctor is an alien from the planet Gallifrey. His species are called "Time Lords" which are a humaniod like race with two hearts and limited telepathic powers. The Doctor is a renegade from his planet.

2.) The Doctor travels through time and space in a ship called a "TARDIS" which stands for "Time And Relative Dimentions in Space" On the outside the TARDIS looks like a 1950's police box (it's camelion circut which lets it change it's shape to fit the enviorment broke while in London in 1963) but on the inside is a large, futuristic interior with seemingly endless amounts of rooms. It can travel to any planet at any point in it's history or future.

3.) Somehow or another, in a yet to be explained series of events in the 2005 series, the Doctor was either directly or parcialy responsible for the demise of his home planet and his species, meaning that by 2005, he is the last Time Lord.

4.) The Doctor has the ability to regenerate meaning if he dies he'll come back to life, but with a different body. All Time Lords have this ability. The Doctor has used this ability nine times throughout the show, meaning ten differnent actors have played the Doctor. They are in order:
  • William Hartnall (1963-1966) - He was a Grandfatherly figure who died of old age.
  • Patrick Troughton (1966-1969) -He was more of a favorite uncle then a Grandfather, a clown who was forced to regenerate as punishment by his fellow Time Lords
  • Jon Pertwee (1970-1974) - An aristocratic scientist, at this point in his life he was trapped on Earth, he died of radiation poisoning.
  • Tom Baker (1974-1981) - The Doctor's longest and most popular incarnation, a Bohemian who died from falling off of a Pharos Project radio telescope.
  • Peter Davidson (1981-1984) - A cricket lover trapped in a body much younger then his personality, he died from contracting deadly Specktrox Toxiemia.
  • Colin Baker (1984-1986) - Flamboyant and arrogant, this incarnation was the least popular, he died of unknown injuries after the TARDIS was shot down by the evil Rani.
  • Sylvester McCoy (1987-1989, and again in 1996) - He started out as a clown but eventually became far more dark and manipulative, he died on the operating table after being operated on by a human doctor, not knowing he was an alien
  • Paul McGann (1996) - He only apeared once, in a TV movie, he was a romantic with an ability to tell people's futures. His death was never televised or explained.
  • Christopher Eccelston (2005) - The first of the new revival series, though still considered the ninth Doctor, he was a dark and intense Doctor, hardened by the Time War that destroyed his planet and his race. He died after absorbing all the energies of the Time Vortex.
  • David Tennant (2005- today) The current incarnation, he's a bit more easy going then his ninth incarnation, with a taste for punk rock.
So to put it lightly, the show basically centers around the adventures of the Doctor and the many companions he gains on his travels. His current companion is a human girl named Rose Tyler, but his previous companions range from the alien Nyssa of Traken to the mild mannared Sarah Jane Smith. He's also had a few male companions such as the alien Turlough, and more recently, Rose's "boyfriend" Mickey Smith.

The Doctor has no "main villian" of sorts. He fights injustice throughout the galaxy (with his sonic screwdriver usually) where ever he finds it. He had an arch enemy called "The Master" for a while, but he was eventually (supposedly) defeated. His most famous enemies are the Daleks (mutated robot creatures that look like pepperpots) and the Cybermen (a fusion of human organs and metal, Robot Humans) Almost every incarnation of the Doctor has faced both of these villians, yet they never seem to just die.

And so, that's the famed Doctor Who. My favorite show! And let me just stress one thing, HIS NAME IS NOT DOCTOR WHO!! His name is "The Doctor" the question is "Doctor Who?"

"I can feel my hair curling, which either means it's going to rain...or I'm onto something!"
-The Fourth Doctor

Wednesday, June 21, 2006

Summertime...Sweet Summertime....

Ah the summer! A time for relaxation. A time when the world seems more beautiful and alive. The sun is usually shining, the grass it typically green, and the sky is sometimes blue. The air around us is warmer, and some people overheat. But, as summer is a time for pleasure, the world has devised an incredible method of beathing that sometimes opressive summer heat. We call it, the pool.

Yes, the pool! I'm sure almost all of you out there in the world that might be reading this have been in one. That cool, soothing, liquidy wonderland that not only beats the summer heat, but is also fun and enjoyable. There are some people however, who abuse the wonders and privledges of the pool. A perfect example of this would be my dear sister.

If the wonders of the pool were based on devotion, she would have it made. My sister woke up this morning at 8:00 AM, and immedietly woke me up in full swimming atire. Now my parents have entrusted me with the awsome responsibility of looking after my dearest younger sibling. I alone am responsible for the safety and well being of my sister. This unfortunetly means that if she wants to go into the pool I have to go too. By the time I got myself up and dressed and had trudged out to the back yard to the pool, it was 8:30.

My sister stayed in that pool without coming out once untill 12:30. Four hours strait in a giant tub of freezing cold water. And damn it if I had to drag her out of that thing and force her inside to eat lunch. It took her about 10 minutes to eat, and ny 12:45 she was back in the pool. I sat there watching her splash around and bounce, and float in and on her tube. It was a very curious sight actually. She spent an incredibly amount of time doing exactly the same thing. Floating, swimming, jumping, it was all the same. Yet it seemed to keep her occupied until at least 5:00 when my mom finally came home and took over. I fled from that poolside so quickly it's not even funny. I still don't know how long she stayed in that pool, but I know she was still there at 7:00 when I looked out my window.

The whole thing wouldn't have been nearly as bad if she hadn't insisted on splashing me. I mean, sitting in one place in the hot sun for 8 and a half hours is bad enough. Add a seven year old who has a habit of splashing when you least want or expect it, and it's enough to drive anyone mad.

And so I part with this. I love summer time. It is a brilliant time of long, warm, lemonaide and iced tea filled days. If you ask me what my favorite season is, sure, I'll say summer. Just don't ask me to talk about poolsides.

Kyle XY: A Review

So recently, meaning about four hours ago, I saw the premiere of the new ABC Family series, "Kyle XY"All and all, it was very good. I had planned to watch it after seeing numerous adds for it on ABC Family. The tagline is was got me hooked, "Who is Kyle XY?"I was too curious to not want to watch it.

Now I am a huge Doctor Who fan, Doctor Who is pretty much my life right now. One of the huge things about Doctor Who that intrigues me so much, is the mystery of it. Who is the Doctor? Who is Kyle XY? It's pretty much the same principle at work. Anyway, after so much obsessive watching of Doctor Who (a British show) I had pretty much lost my faith in American Sci-Fi shows. I really had no interest in watching anything else other then Doctor Who. But the tagline for Kyle XY was like a challenge. I couldn't not watch it.

The show was awsome. Of course, not much can ever really be said about a first episode of something, this was like watching a mini-movie. The plot was very well written. I especially enjoyed the voiceover by Kyle throughout the episode. Some of the acting was bad, an example being the brother (what was his name, he showed Kyle how to "shoot hoops") Althought that might have been due to the HORRIBLE lines he was given. Definetly not how your average 13+ boy talks.

Another issue I had was with the sister (God, why can't I remember anyone's name?) Her acting was good, but the situations she was in, and her character is just awful. She's such an annoying character! And her friend, that blond chick who only had like one line? Her one line was terrible. "Does he have digits?" Gag.

Aside from that though, it was very good. It was the story of a normal family told through eyes of a complete outsider. And the complete outsider...wow! Very good acting, very good characterization, and a great impersonation of a juvenile deliquint (sp?) wanting juice. I loved how Kyle touched every member of the family in a different way, and the whole belly button thing was kind of cool too I guess. But damn it, they never answered the question!! God my insesint (sp?) curiousity was most definetly NOT satisfied. I guess I'll have to keep watching!

9/10 Great show, not the best writing or acting (but only for certain characters)

Today You Die

So after years of attepted free websites, Deviant Art accounts, and other such failed endevours, I figured I'd start a Blog.

I'm sure you're all thrilled.

Anyway, this is my astounding Blog. Here I will share my opinions, reviews, stories, or whatever is currently happening to me. A little about myself: I am a New England high school student who has nothing better to do this summer then write useless things about everything. I am trying to find work this summer (unpaid of course) as a voice actor for radio dramas, and fan things. If you are a producer of these sorts of things, and are in desperate need of voices, contact me!

So yeah, this is what I will hopefully be doing over the summer. I've just spent three full days watching my seven year old sister jump in and out of a giant blue inflatable pool. Despite my repeated threats of "If you splash me you die" she continues to do just that. She claims it to be only an "accident" however I fail to see how following someone around and splashing them at least eight times in two minutes is an accident. If I have to do this one more day, I think I might throw myself dramatically into the sea in Cape Cod.

Of course first I'd have to get to Cape Cod, and unless I hijack the Hood Blimp, that doesn't seem very likely right now. Plus I already tried that, accidentally of course. I fell of a cliff in Cape Cod while on a trip leading girl scouts. It was a couple of weeks ago, maybe if you're really lucky, I'll tell you that story later.

Well now I'm just rambling. So I'd better go. Keep coming back. Maybe I'll post pictures. Maybe I won't. Who knows.

Oh, and speaking of Who, I'll just add now that I'm an obsessive Doctor Who fan! You'll probably here me rambling about that too. Be prepared.