It was nice, knowing everything there was to know.

Senior year of high school, my present writing voice began to emerge.

I finally accepted who I was and where I stood in the social structure - completely.

I had a lot to say about the topic I knew least about: love.

I became a passionate person. I was passionately Christian, passionately angry at a lot of people for a lot of reasons, passionately counter-culture, and even passionately confused.

So I guess not a lot has changed. I'm just passionate about different issues, or the same issues but from different angles.

Words from my seventeen-year-old self:


Ravin said i had big feet, so Ash decided to try on my shoes, so i stole his, and then i drove him home, and when i pulled into my garage, i looked down and realized..... that i was STILL WEARING his shoes. i mean, they felt EXACTLY LIKE my shoes but on a slightly larger scale. which makes sense, because i HAVE the exact same shoes on a slightly smaller scale.

i know that there are some of you who... attempted to make me "tall and stout" one year because you didnt think i could look fat, but you know what, i have just one word for you..... snowgear.

Kim gave me pocky and koalas. i love kim.

saturday night after the semi, we went to shaws with Ravin and Lonewlf to get juicy juice, and Lonewlf comes running up to us with a huge package of pads and goes, "LOOK! TAMPONS!" and we had to explain that those weren't tampons.

i escaped to the kitchen to call Ash and ask him about his koto, which was in my house for half a week and i never told him about.

i told [Erny] i was ryan ross, who is really a member of panic! at the disco... little did she know that Wanda and i invented ryan ross the sophomore and were really referring to her sister the whole time.

Lonewlf decided to wear his "hot pants" and nothing else. Lonewlf's hot pants are a pair of girl jeans cut so short that you can see the ends of his boxers poking out at the bottom... [then he] pretended my emergency blanket was a cape. now i have to wash it because it has been on his mostly naked body.


EVERYBODY says that about their parents, and I usually think theyre just exaggerating, but Im telling you, the guy is a total kangaroo.

on friday night, my mom and i frolicked in the church parking lot.


It all began with "…two North Dakota… three North Dakota…" in the darkroom.

i dont know. one minute we were talking about werewolves, and the next, he invited me to the prom.

I hate the way dudes just throw "I love you" around like beer in a mosh pit... If youve been dating somebody for a month, two months, in cara's case five days, or even a year or two, YOU DO NOT LOVE THEM. Okay? You dont. [Author's note: JW has proven me wrong on this point. Nuff said.]

Ash tried to be the psychologist and told me that i'm just jealous because i think i'm going to be lonely forever.

there are a heck of a lot of things i could do that i would regret more than not doing them, if that made any sense at all. but of course it didnt, because nothing makes sense anymore, and it feels like nothing will ever make sense again.

it's like happy rainbows are coming out my ears or something.


i'm sure there's an actual word for fear of hot glue guns. i mean there is a word for "fear of peanut butter sticking to the roof of one's mouth." there's got to be one for glue guns.

[there was a photo] of a kid with a skateboard gazing contemplatively at artwork hanging on a wall. the picture he's looking at is of a hawk, and i insisted it was a reference to tony hawk and how the kid wanted to be just like him. my grandma didnt get it, but i dont think she knows the first thing about tony hawk anyway.

bar chords kill my wrist, which i think is related to the fact that my thumb is not really opposable. i hate my thumbs so much. i swear, one of these days i'm just going to shut it in a car door or something and hope that when it heals from being broken, it will be weirdly bent into a much less awkward position than.... whatever weird shape it is now.

please pardon my logorrhea.

i tend to have epic dreams when i sleep on my stomach... last night/this morning, i got the second half of a dream that inspired me to write a story, which i stopped writing because i didnt know where to go with it, but now i have a better sense of direction, so maybe i can get working on that. [Author's note: This dream, from an entry dated 2006, was the foundation for Before the Empty Moon. Yep, STILL working on that.]


they have a mario kart tourney..... funniest thing since sliced bread.......

good goobers, maybe it's happened to me! -what they always say about kids getting addicted to the internet!! and myspace!!!

On our way to the club, this guy in girl pants pointed at my relient k shirt and got all excited and yelled "you're going to the relient k concert! Yay!" or something, and I just sort of watched his little outburst with internalized amusement and continued eating my ice cream like "hello, can't you see i'm busy here?"

i told the bride "happy wedding" (DDR reference, b/c i'm a dork), and when the pastor started speaking, all i could think of was the guy in the princess bride.


i really have corrupted the girl i babysat for on saturday. i taught her the meaning of emo, and now she gives me weekly reports on how many emo kids she's counted.

the boy would not go to bed, and finally i said, "all right. i'll read to you some more. let me go find a book." and went and got my systematic theology book, thinking, "this will put him RIGHT to sleep." not so. that rebel child had me read ten pages of impossible-to-pronounce names and titles before he finally conked out.

trust me to deal with flying shards of flaming glass with "LET'S EAT ICE CREAM!"


i'm so used to being on the fringes of the social structure that i can tell everyone i dont care if they reject me, but of course i do. nobody wants to be rejected.

Wanda and I sat on the floor during lunch again.

i used to come home in tears because i couldnt understand why nobody understood me. my word, i was emo all the way back in second grade. i should have known it was hopeless.

I was ignored, as usual. I should just not bother talking, ever.

Let's face it. Just like everything else about school this year, spirit week and homecoming are going to suck. But you know what? I'M GOING TO BE A PIRATE ANYWAY. AND I'M GOING TO WEAR MY 80S SHIRT ON 70S DAY. AND I'M ADDING A NEW SUPERLATIVE CATEGORY FOR MYSELF: Most Likely to Instigate Revolution. Take that, CHS.

today was so long that i looked down at my shirt this afternoon and thought, "mandii, you scrub, you wore the same shirt two days in a row," and then realized that it was still the same day.

never be too "cool" to be a fool or too "old" to be bold. those are lame excuses for thinking small.

i am sick and tired of putting up with the other editors in my independent study, one of whom does not even have authority of any sort over me except in her imagination where she dominates the world because she thinks she is that smart and talented and special.

BRENDON URIE came over and inspected the hot water pots, to no avail, obviously, since they were empty. And then I realized that he had a big Styrofoam cup of ramen in his hand, just like me, and I had to stifle a laugh. Poor kid. He's fueled by ramen, but apparently not today.

eating is so strange. i mean, think about it. theres something in front of you, and then you put it into this big hole in your face and mash it all up, and suddenly it isnt there anymore.

your self-help forum says, "go play in traffic." thank you, and have an EMO DAY.

yesterday was "Senior skip day." needless to say, i went to school and skipped through the halls with my friends and sang, "senior skip day! senior skip day!" everywhere i went.

Peace, love, and reliving the not-so-golden years,
Miss Rex

While the rest of the world worries about acid rain...

One of the best and worst things about living in an apartment is cooking for yourself. On the one hand, there was rarely anything in the dining hall that was both vegetarian and appetizing, but on the other hand... well, let's just say my cooking skills are... rudimentary.

I've been using a lot of Parmesan cheese. It's great for the obvious (pasta), but also on summer squash or with garlic and crushed red peppers in olive oil as a dip for bread.

JW and Cripple were over at dinnertime the other evening and I offered to make pasta. Everything went fine until someone reminded me we needed cheese. I noticed the granules had clumped together to form a huge ball of Parmesan and started to shake the container.

Next thing I knew it was raining cheese.

I guess the lid wasn't shut very tightly. The worst part is that it was probably me who failed to shut it in the first place, since I use sprinkle cheese way more than anyone else around here. D'oh.

Peace, love and Parmesan rain,
Miss Rex

Sophomore Slump --> Comeback of the Year

I just found out that the website that hosted my OLDEST oldest blog, I mean the one I had even pre-MySpace, is now a website for porn. Which is really sad because I want to see the kinds of things I was writing in middle school and freshman year, although I'm pretty sure it was just more of the same hyperactive drivel and nothing of actual importance.

But to continue with my perusal of my past, we are on to junior year of high school, at which point some kind soul taught me to use the Enter key or MySpace improved their formatting to encompass spaces between paragraphs.

Things of note in junior year:

1. Obsession with bands, especially Relient K, continued.

2. While maintaining a facade of hyperactivity, I managed to get pretty down on myself, which isn't reflected in the quotes I'm posting here, or even really in the old blog. But I caught whiffs of it: brief references to being down or depressed or emo or wondering what's wrong with myself. I only ever quoted really depressing lyrics. And those whiffs reminded me of some of the circumstances and emotions that brought them about, and suffice to say that I just wasn't a very happy person as a junior. I remember Erny later telling me that she was worried about me that year. But I was happy when I was playing guitar.

3. I craved attention. A bunch of my posts mentioned some guys in my gym class/creative writing class who called me "Girl" because they couldn't be bothered to find out my real name, and even that was something I thrived on. I started to feel inadequate over the fact that no guys ever seemed to be romantically interested in me, either at school or at church.

4. I thought EVERYTHING was SCANDALOUS. Oh how things have changed. Penis.


so this really cool guy at my youth group, yeah he's really rad and stuff and stuff and yeah, and i might be going to see switchfoot with him! switchfoot, who i love as much as i love relient k! with him! switchfoot! with him!

wow. that was an exceptionally long rant about virtually nothing. i hope you didnt actually read it. but if you made it this far.... thank you for caring, now go and get a life.

homework bites. erm, not literally, although that would be an excellent excuse for not doing it: "i couldnt do my research paper because it was vicious and kept biting my face!!!"

i definitely just almost washed my face with toothpaste..... nice.

i thought the holiday season was supposed to be cheerful but instead it just makes me want to curl up in a ball until its all over.

why am i so emo?

i called my neighbors to see if they had a witches hat i could wear for my macbeth presentation tomorrow, and my sister was over there when i called since she and the girl who live there are friends. well, i guess her mom told them all why i called, and the other little girl who lives there who's in like 1st or 2nd grade asked "why does she want that? is she going around kissing boys?"

i'm going to come down with a fever and have to miss school altogether, and then i will miraculously recover at 2:36 and start running around because i'll be on vacation.

well, i'm an oxymoron.

later that day i scored a point and so they finally decided to find out what my name was. which they found out by saying "hey, Girl, do you have a name?"

this way when i meet thiessen i can be like "sooo... i'm making a documentary of the night.... and now youre in it. any words of wisdom?" as opposed to, you know, just.......... drooling.

i hope i dont combust before the show. although it would be pretty awesome if i ran across the stage while on fire. well.... no, burning in a good way.

guess who was sitting in my creative writing class when i showed up.... pretty much the entire senior male population of my gym class. this one kid was like "hey!! it's girl! hi girl!" and i was like "hi, boy."

hahahahaha oh boy stalkers are great.

at least we have myspace to hold the world together when everything else falls apart, right?

Id almost been martyred in a relient k mosh pit.

Then me and Wanda had the bright idea of borrowing a swivel chair from one of the computer stations in the library, and we rolled each other down the hall in it at full speed. Wanda said she feels like a real rock band.

for the first time in my life, I HAVE a life

I pretended I couldnt hear until pat was like you should bring Girl to the prom, and john was like yeaaaah! and turned around and looked at me, and I was like nnnoooooo

I get to go places with COOL PEOPLE tomorrow. mostly one cool person actually. we wont elaborate further than that but if you know me well enough you probably guessed there was somehow a guy involved. pink monkeys.

the family isnt supposed to know I let Wanda drive me around to the music store and the mall and all that jazz. And Im not supposed to associate with ppl who have unnaturally colored hair.

whatever guys me and Ravin wind up with are going to have to live in our orb with us.

erny stopped swearing so much around me because i used to punch her every time she did.

purple. you know what i mean.


i reproduce by budding, like cells.


Peace, love and boobs,
Miss Rex


Yesterday I indulged in...

...Juicy Juice that I got from Wanda. She was late to my end-of-summer bonfire and I called her to say we were out of Juicy Juice, so she showed up with juice boxes.

...Skipping chapel.

...Buffalo chicken with Razz, who's also a veggo.

...Cake smothered in frosting, coconut and jelly beans that my apartment surprised me with.

...Reading children's books while sitting at the RMV waiting to get my new license.

Then JW, my knight in shining armor, whisked me away to Boston.

We got dinner at Fire and Ice and I got a delicious strawberry mango margarita. JW told the chefs it was my birthday so they let me come up to the grill and stir fry my own food while everybody else waiting for their dinner had to sing to me, lest the chefs refuse to feed them. Then the chef handed me a bag of potato chips, said "happy birthday," and handed me my plate. Udon noodles are fantastic.

After that, JW took me to the North End, which is the Little Italy part of town. He treated me to Limoncello, Bailey's, and two Washington Apples. Then we sat on a park bench, took pictures with statues, and befriended the cop who was guarding a giant statue of macaroni.

I didn't get trashed on my 21st birthday. I didn't even get drunk (though I might have been a little tipsy). And I'm really glad that's how it went down. So many people get trashed, throw up, pass out, or drunkenly screw up on their 21st birthdays, but I will remember every perfect second of my perfect night.

Peace, love and Starbucks' Caramel Apple Spice,
Miss Rex

3 x 7 = How old I am today

Oh dear God, reading my old blog is EXHAUSTING. I was so freaking hyper at 14. And I knew it. And I think I knew it was obnoxious, or at least I said I knew it was obnoxious, but I’m pretty sure what I actually thought was, “I am freaking hilarious. Everybody listen to me being hilarious.”

My first blog was from back in the days of dial-up Internet, when MySpace was the place to be. Knowing how bad our Internet connection was, I can’t imagine how I was online enough to post as many as three times a day. And it was all. Useless. Drivel. I talked about Relient K every other word. But at least I had the good sense to know it was embarrassing that I had ever liked N*Sync.

Also, had the return key not been invented in 2004? Because everything I said was in one long, rambling block of text, which leads me to believe I didn’t pause to breathe a single time in the year 2004. For someone who was supposedly a “good writer,” I wish I’d had some idea what a run-on sentence was.

In honor of my 21st birthday today, I'd like to share some choice tidbits from my high school self, for your amusement (but even more so for mine). These are from sophomore year... more to come.


OK so how many gwapes can u fit in YOUR mouth? well i can fit 11 and so can my friend raven but my other friend spleen can fit 12, right before she bursts out laughing and they go flying all over the table and look really gross. who knows tomorrow maybe she'll bring smaller grapes and then she can fit 15. once i knew this kid who could fit 18 full-sized marshmallows in his mouth at once, and still say "fluffy bunny." and this other kid who could fit an entire clementine in his mouth and almost close it.

i need someone to talk to. i feel rather lonesomeful. hmm well i can go talk to my sis who i guess thinks she is a water fountain, please dont ask. oooooh! a lollipop!!

well jmae was reading my blog and decided that she was inspired to imitate an elephant. and now i guess she has a few words to type. hmm i guess i better proofread this... ok this is jmae:
ok i guess thats what she thinks an elephant sounds like.

i played volleyball on a moonwalk and the guy who came with the moonwalk was reaaallly cute so me and heather named him skittles.

what if somehow my brain got switched with my ex-boyfriend's brain? and suddenly we had to live each other's lives? i'd be RUINED i tell you! ...friends? idk maybe he could handle them... if he just shut up and pretended to have laryngitis... seriously i mean i dont hate him but we're polar opposites, i dunno how we ended up going out. (Author's note: I apparently feel this way about every ex-boyfriend I have. Is there a lesson I should be learning from this...?)

yay guess what my clock is all better. i think it caught my cold but i gave it some medicine and now its stuck at whatever time it was when i poured cough syrup on it... just kidding it says 3:48 just like it should.

yayy i got my yellow belt!!! and the creepy kid didnt tell me what i smell like!

and tristram, my sped buddy, was like 'mandii is the gay pride penguin' so i hit him with a ruler because i most certainly am not.

mr leary.... i know youre not reading this... but... YOU OWE ME A STAPLER AND I BETTER FIND ONE IN MY STOCKING ON SATURDAY!!! or i'll turn you into strawberry milk

we had a 2 hour delay cause of the snow... first i couldnt hear the bus go by on its way up my street, and i was in the kitchen when it went by the other way. it stopped by my house because my neighbor and i always have to catch it on its way back, and i pulled on my chucks without tying them and grabbed my backpack but no coat and ran out there in the foot-deep snow, but it drove away without me. so now my feet were cold and my chucks were soaking. so i tried to dry them off with a hair dryer but my mom told me I was being stupid and to wear different shoes.

i told heather she had a lima bean on her face, and then i decided it was a brussel sprout instead. even tho it was really just a piece of dirt or something. then i accused her of giving me foot cancer.

period 4 - health test. agh. I HATE SEX IT IS SO GROSS.

i hate math with a passion that burns like a burning passion of hatred. but today i am a mathlete.

my neighbor says... SQUIRREL!!!!!! SQUIRREL!!!!!!!!!!!!!! icky coconut GET OFF MY LEG I CANT FEEL MY LEG EEWWWW DID YOU WET MY LEG?????

dear diary today me and lily discovered how escalators REALLY work. theres little guys on bikes inside them.

then i accidentally shouted really loud in the library so i shut up and ran into the young adult room where i fell over a chair. it was such fun!


Peace, love, and legal indulgences,
Miss Rex

Sky vom

We're going to skip the awkward "oh hey, long time no post" conversation. I neglected you again. I'm deeply sorry and will start in on my penance after I click "Publish Post." On to more interesting things.

A lot has happened since my last post, but tonight, being the night after the first day of classes, shall be dedicated to (drum roll, please) the first day of classes.

First things first. It has poured for three days straight now, and I have been completely unprepared. We were in the middle of a freaking drought. Why should I pack galoshes? But of course as soon as everybody moves back in to Go-Co everything turns to sky vom. I forget that this place does that.

By the time I got to chapel I had taken two showers; one when I woke up, and one on my way to the chapel. I literally wrung out my hair when we got inside.

Afterward, Jo-Yo and I decided to run our clothes through the dryer, which is now "free" to use (i.e. doesn't take quarters, but there's an $80 laundry fee tacked onto our room and board costs). But my skinny jeans shrunk in the rain and I couldn't get them off, so Jo-Yo had to undress me.

Then I finally managed to access my email for the first time all week and realized I was supposed to be at a meeting at 8:00 this morning, which obviously didn't happen. I feel that I've hit the bottom of some academic bell curve for missing my first obligation of the year. And I thought I was so good for going to chapel.

Before I left for my 2:10 class, I cut up a trash bag to make a poncho. Wouldn't you know it, the sky had ceased puking by that point and was only taking a tinkle on us.

My first class is a communication theory class. I wish I could tell you more about it, but when the prof described what we'd be learning, I had no idea what the flamingo he was talking about. Luckily he grades on a contract, which means that if you do everything you're supposed to do, you get a B, even if you don't do it well. I know what grade I'll be getting in that class.

My second class is a fiction writing class. We've already started working on dialogues and drafts. I am, for the first time in maybe forever, legitimately stoked for a class. I'm hoping to use this as an opportunity to workshop parts of my novel.

And that's all the classes I have this semester! I'm getting 4 more credits for an internship I'm doing with a company we'll call Skipping Stone Media, which doesn't start until the middle of September.

So I've got my reasons for being stressed and my reasons for being stoked. Although most of the latter are related to a) living in an apartment with Razzmatazz, Mnomanoms and Taz, which is b) upstairs from my marvelous boyfriend, who deserves a post all his own, and c) turning old enough to take part in my friends' drunken revelries, since up to this point I have, of course, abstained from ingesting any and all alcoholic substances.

And just for the record, Friday (my birthday) is slated to be sunny with a high of 75.

Peace, love, and ponchos,
Miss Rex
Home | Gallery | Tutorials | Freebies | About Us | Contact Us

Copyright © 2009 A Silvertongued Serenade |Designed by Templatemo |Converted to blogger by BloggerThemes.Net

Usage Rights

DesignBlog BloggerTheme comes under a Creative Commons License.This template is free of charge to create a personal blog.You can make changes to the templates to suit your needs.But You must keep the footer links Intact.