Liv in a Life Well-Lived

I think I have a girl crush on Leighton Meester. Everytime I see pictures of her, I sigh. So it's either a girl-crush or it's-hopeless-you're-never-gonna-look-like-that-envy. An I don't even care if somebody leaked a supposed sex tape. That's like so Paris Hilton (read: an era ago). I just like looking at her. I'm not gunning to be just like her after all. As if I could. Here we go again: sigh.

It's strange, when people try to encourage you to write by writing what you know. Always had a problem with that. I was never sure if I know enough about anything to write about it. Once, when I was younger, a friend dared me to write a love scene. One with actual kissing and, uhm, groping, and stuff. Risque, especially if you were fourteen years old and educated in an all-girls private school since kindergarten. All the love scenes I know were culled from Judith McNaught novels and Johanna Lindsey prototypes of wham-bam-thank-you-mam. All I know is I hated those love scenes because it always felt impersonal, not to mention overtly romanticized. So when I wrote my story, I ended up with a scenario that put together these elements in some haphazard manner: depressed guy, concerned girl, lots of facial hair (on the guy, of course), a razor blade, soap and the girl's warm hands shaving off the gunk off his face (and no, they didn't get freaky). My friend thought it was superbl

I stayed up until 2 am last night finishing my draft for another short story. The point of all this hard work isn't just because NaNoWriMo is coming. I also plan to compile the stories and give them to special people come Christmas time. I can already see it: professionally bound (read Blessings:UP Shopping Center)dark blue booklet with the compilation's title (still haven't decided which one will get star billing)embossed in starry silver. It would look like my NatSci1 readings all over again... Haha! So you see, the reason for my stellar mood today is not only because I'm writing again, but also because Christmas is near. Although, I did consider that giving a compilation of stuff I wrote might not be the best Christmas gift. I mean, it's one part parusa, and one part narcissistic, and two parts cheapskate. But I'm only giving it to friends who appreciate the fact that I love to write, or knows I'm quirky enough to give it to them not because I want them t