This Chick Here: Let's Have a Flashback

Since school still hasn't begun and my blog feels as yet unfulfilled, I decided to give you a little (more) insight into my life. So here's a flashback post to the end of my 5th Grade year. Now, 5th Grade was the year that I met Moonlight. Let's get one thing straight.

I did NOT like her.

Now, we got over a lot of this nonsense during the end of the 5th Grade; I just thought you should have that information so you can see exactly what our friendship has been through.

Anyway.
I'm sure y'all here in Virginia remember the massive infestation of 7-year Cicadas we had 6 years ago. This is what this flashback is all about.

The Summer of the Cicadas

It was utterly disgusting; there's really no other description. The fat, black, buzzing bugs with their scarlet eyes and spider webbed wings flying in all directions, the noise of the sheer numbers of cicadas in trees, on the ground, underground, in the air- everywhere you could possibly imagine. The dead were everywhere, crushed bodies, broken wings, heads littered over the asphalt parking lot, scattered across the grass of the soccer field, strewn on the sidewalks.

For those women of the 5th Grade, these were entirely unacceptable conditions.

This Chick Here: The Ring

I have a Ring. Its a crown with one of the sides broken up and the top piece missing; its damaged, its old and it hardly ever matches my clothing.

I wear it on the ring finger of my left hand.

Adults always mock me with amused glances and disparaging remarks such as: "Are you getting married?" or "Who's your fiance?" or the ever popular "Your ring is on the wrong finger." accompanied by a pitying look for my apparent ignorance on the placement of rings. Even the photographers who were taking my Senior Pictures wanted to know if I wanted to switch the Ring to my other hand.

To that I looked them in the eye and told them 'No' with the barely restrained patience of someone who has been asked the same question too many times before.

No, the Ring is not on the wrong finger nor is it placed there because of my ignorance of ring placement rituals.

Its there for a reason.

You Know Your From No.VA When... ~Meme Time~

1. Go to Google and type in "You Know You're From (Your State/Region) When...."
2. Paste the results here.
3. Bold the items that apply to you.

1. Speed limits are just suggestions
2. You take a major highway to get anywhere (95, 66,28, etc)
3. You constantly complain about there being nothing to do, even though you are right next to DC
4. You have at least 2 friends who have no idea what their parents do because its "top secret" government work
5. 50% of your senior class went to either Mason, JMU, Tech, Radford, or UVA
6. When people ask where you're from, you tell them DC because its easier to explain
7. You've never told someone you're from Virginia without putting "northern" in front of it
8. You dread going to the DMV for anything
9. Its not actually tailgating unless your bumper is touching the car in front of you.
10. A yellow light means at least 5 more cars car get through.
11. A red light means 2 more can.
12. It takes you 30 minutes to drive 10 miles
13. Your local news is national news
14. If you hear the word "sniper" one more time you're going to slap someone
15. You actually know what the black boxes at stoplights are for

This Chick Here: Things That Make Me Mad

So, I definitely wasn't planning to write this today, but current events deemed it necessary.

Things that make me angry.

Not just "oh yeah that's annoying" type angry but  "c'mere so I can rip your throat out" type angry.

Number One.
Being scared into waking up.

This Chick Here --- More About Me

So let's get personal again,

Cuz y'know, I love to do that. (Lying)

Anyway, more about me.

I'm insane, like completely.
I will run down the street screaming for no reason or dance Michael Jackson's Thriller in the rain. Or the ocean. Or anywhere for that matter. And though I am dangerously flamboyant (and I say dangerously, because I have hurt myself occasionally), I am really shy.

So in short, I'm shy but I pretend like I'm not.

Am I making sense yet?

No?

Good.

I get jealous. Its terrible. I don't get jealous of people, but I get jealous when I have to share my friends. >.<

Especially my beloved Moonlight.

I actually knew what direction I was going in when I started this, but now its all a rambling blur. >.<

~Shattered

First Things First: Introductions

I'm Shattered Star.

Hi.

I'm a girl at the tender age of 17 who has decided to write a blog about her senior year. Every little detail too, in glowing technicolor! Why? Because I'm a writer, so I write. Besides someone suggested that it would be a good experience to put on my college application, so its a win for everyone. :)

Well maybe not everyone...
Maybe you don't like me.

Don't like me, huh? Well fie on you!

Just kidding, I just always wanted to say that. Let's give you reasons to like me. Here's my personal statement:


Anyone can go to school, and anyone can get good grades and everyone wants to, myself included. However, there’s something different about me. I’m not just some girl hoping to go to some mediocre college. I’m a Writer; not any kind of writer, mind you, but the kind who goes to great lengths to get her stories told.  Writers take initiative; and that’s something that I have quite a bit of.
In the 8^th grade I founded, edited, and published our class newspaper (the 8^th Grade Word). During my Freshman year of high school I started advertising for our Drama Department, immediately increasing the attendance to our productions; throughout Sophomore year I was invited to beta-test Ficly (an online writing community), by its creator Kevin Lawver. In my Junior year I was on the staff for our literary magazine; In 2010, I was invited to Co-edit that same magazine in my Senior year. I’ve written and published over 400 short stories and poems in various mediums, and am currently working on a novel. I look forward to using my education to change the world through words; because sometimes, that’s the only way to make a difference.

Looks quite scholarly, doesn't it? I wrote that personal statement for a scholarship I applied to yesterday and every word of it is true. After all, I did vow to go for all honesty all the time! 

So now you know a bit about me and I know absolutely nothing about you. Lovely relationship we have developing here, isn't it?

Let's dig a little deeper, now that you've seen the academic side of me- Let's get personal.


I'm me, and if you knew me that would be enough said but since you don't, let me elaborate. I am a culmination of opposites, a regular oxymoron. I'm generally happy looking, but on the inside I tend towards the downside. I'm not exactly sad, but I'm not usually as happy as I look. Its called good acting, which I like to participate in regularly. I have two best friends, both female, since the opposite sex seems to see me as "that girl who's awfully nice but I don't really talk to". Not to say that I don't have man-friends. I say man-friends because boyfriends isn't the right word and guy-friends just sounds ridiculous.

Oh hush. I know what you're thinking.

Anyway, that's a piece of me.
If you want to know more, you'll just have to keep reading!


-Shattered Star
"Hope Floats. Let's hope it sails."

P.S.
Why I call myself Shattered Star.

Four Shattered Stars

The sky is vast and dark and great
The winds are fast and cold
And while these shining rays abate
All we ever do is wait

We wait for missing pieces of a dream
We wait for things we've never seen
We're waiting for the world to breathe

This space right here
Too small to see
This little part inside of me
Contains those things that never rest
Locked inside this awful chest

My heart.
My soul.
My mind.
This empty sham of body

These four fallen, shattered stars
From my sky so dark
My winds so cold
I count those broken pieces everyday
As if they're cherished gold

And no one will ever understand
The four shattered stars
I hold within my hand

They only belong to me
Because I know they'll never see

They will never comprehend
That these four shattered stars
Are everything I am