100 bobby pins

May and my cats

So today is the last day of April. It’s weird to think that tomorrow, of all days, will be May; where did the other months go in the year?

May is perhaps my favorite month. It is hot enough that I can go outside in shorts and no one will question it, but it isn’t so hot that the sun bakes your skin clean through to the bone, making your blood boil (or, at least, that’s how my summers go).

Plus, all the flowers are blooming or will soon be blooming. May is the month where the snow storms and freezing nights end. Where cakes are baked with frilly designs in the local bakery, the displays flourishing to life.

One thing that I love to do is to lay a quilt over the fresh green grass in our front yard and take to writing on a notebook, scribbling away at different worlds and characters. There is something comfortable about hammering out other people's lives and not your own, but I'm not sure quite what it is. 

This afternoon I went outside and sat under the shade of our big maple tree and watched as my two cats, Ollie and Peaches, slept in the grass a few feet away in a big jumble. Sometimes they'd get up and play with each other, and then settle back down again. 

Ollie and Peaches are both litter mates; Ollie is creme colored and has long, smooth hair. He prefers to act like a huge ragdoll when you hold him. Because I don't own a camera, he looks about like this:

  

Peaches is a little less beautiful, and also friendly. She is a short-haired tabby cat. She likes to sun herself in my bedroom window on the dresser, and so I keep a cat bed for her there. She got her name from when she was a kitten: when my little sister was left her oatmeal out on the table one time, she returned about a half-hour later to find that the cat was lapping the cream out of the bowl! Because cream didn't suit her very well (she has a temperament like sandpaper), we decided to call her Peaches.

She looks, at times, like this:

  

 Ollie and Peaches stay inside most of the time, but on the rare occasion that they go outside with me, they like to tackle on the lawn. I suppose another good thing about May is that they are both out running off some of their winter pudge.

 

Another Town, By Regina Spektor

[I have decided that a blog post every week day is better for my schedule]

Peter Pan

Growing up, I was never a fan of Peter Pan. It may have been because for one, I didn't understand kisses, and for twice, to this day I hate anything pirate. 

However, I thought it was cute how he didn't want to grow up, and avoided it so thoroughly he moved to a magical island full of Indians and mermaids and whatnot--it was a good escape for my child mind. 

Peter Pan is mentioned a lot in my household. My sister adore him and his green tights, and will continuously watch it on repeat. If I thought about it long enough, I think I could probably write down the entire movie script down on paper. Yeah, that's how much I know the lines. 

I don't remember much of my childhood; it's like looking through a sheet of wobbly plastic when I try and recall facts. Most of the stuff I have is from my parents. Sometimes when I'm at home, sitting on the sofa my mom will tell me things about when I was six or seven. 

One of the things I do remember is that I loved every Disney movie except for Peter Pan. Cinderella and Beauty and the Beast were on constant repeat at my house. I could sing the songs, warbling like a swallow--but when people brought up that mythical Neverland, my throat closed up and I didn't want to talk about it, suddenly. 

I grew up more, and suddenly I was wishing for the days when I didn't have to worry about more than turning in my homework on time. I read the actual book Peter Pan, and then some of the other series of fan fiction--Peter and the Starcatchers, by far, is my favorite. I love it more than the actual series from which it was built.

Now, I don't hate Peter Pan. I wish that as I child I could have loved him more. Whenever I finally save up and go to Disney World, I will definitely be in line to go and meet him.

Spirited away

A Song:

 

'The Sixth Station'

I went to camp a few months ago, in the autumn. I met this girl who had a pack of Spirited Away playing cards, with characters like Yubaba and Chihiro on the backs and such. 

For those of you who don't know, Spirited Away is an anime movie about a little girl named Chihiro, whose family is moving to a new city. They get lost on the way to their new house and Chihiro and her parents get separated in another dimension. Chihiro, wanting to save her parents, starts working at an ancient bath house for weary spirits, and meets several interesting characters.

That is the best I can describe it. The movie is just so weird, and surprising and magical, and you have to see it for yourself to truly experience it. 

Anyway, this girl at camp had Spirited Away playing cards.

I flipped them around for quite some time, just admiring them. I chatted with her for about thirty minutes about the movie, and about other movies that had been made by the same director (his name is Hayao Miyazaki). 

I'd never met a fan like me in the wild before. Makes me wonder how many other I walk past on the streets share the same interests as me.

A beginning blog post

Hi.

So this is a blog. How many I've started beforehand, how much I've always wanted to write in something like, this, planning out different blog posts in my head as I mull about the house, scrubbing dishes, trying on old hats...

Hi. 

I'm Viola, obviously. Hi.

I'm a writer.

I'm obsessed with Disney films--especially Tangled, which holds a place in my cold heart and thaws me inside, making me feel warm and fuzzy. It's so cool, what people can make you feel.

I paint my fingernails new colors nearly everyday; usually they are blue or pink, but sometimes a nice rich purple or orange. They always chip after a couple of hours (also, I chew my nails and so they paint usually finds its way in layers into my trash bin). 

I thought I would share with you a few photos:

 

I will be posting every day. If I miss a day, don't freak out; simply yell at me in the comments, if you so choose. The topics I will blog about will be short, no doubt, feathery,  and long-winded. I don't care much how long the posts will run. Some will be as long as death, and some might be even a few sentences. 

Hi. Let's do this.

*Photos were found on a magical website called WeHeartIt.