Let’s party like it’s ten years ago today!
My Favorite Blog/Diary/Journal Entries of the Decade
* Names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent.
99% of these probably don’t make sense to anyone, even the other people who were there. A few of them barely still make sense to me. I think that’s the sign of a decade well-lived, don’t you?
June 12, 2000
(2009 Note: This is a clear example of why not to write comics with your friends, about your friends, that only your friends could understand.)
July 4, 2001
The most EMBARRASSING thing that ever happened to me…..
THE MOST embarrassing thing that EVER happened to me was, well, see, one day, the clasp on my bra broke and so my mom brought me another one, and I put the broken bra into a bag in my binder. 2 Weeks later, Eugene stole the bag out of my binder and left it in the Spanish room. Chris M. found it, waved it around, and Sra. L. HUNG IT IN THE DOORWAY w/ a sign that said “¿De quien es esta bra?” So I made a sign the next day that said “Don’t go through others’ binders (Eugene!)” so Ann made a sign that said “Don’t leave your bra in the Spanish Room (HAYLEY!!!)”
December 26, 2002
Amy and my BRILLIANT theory to the world of Harry Potter… it was actually MY theory, but I’m letting her share the credit.
Our idea as to why Voldemort wanted to kill Harry and James Potter is as follows:
According to a theory on Mugglenet.com (and our own slightly slow common sense), Harry and James were both heirs to Gryffindor – they lived in Godric’s hollow, and Harry succeeded in pulling Gryffindor’s sword out of the Sorting Hat during his battle with the Basilisk, the monster of Slytherin. Voldemort, knowing this and being the heir to Slytherin, targeted them because he wanted to finish Salazar’s work and end the quibble that had arisen between the two Hogwarts founders.
To further confuse you, Neville is a parallel to Peter Pettigrew, as they both were tag-alongs to three more popular and powerful wizards in their year.
Ginny is a parallel to Lily, because they both have red hair and are at nature good people and physically beautiful.
Since Neville is a parallel to Pettigrew, and has shown interest in Ginny, who is in turn parallel to Lily, we think that Pettigrew was attracted to Lily.
Voldemort, knowing that Pettigrew had lusted for Lily, and had had his heart broken when James married her, got Pettigrew to unleash his hidden wrath towards James by betraying James and Harry’s whereabouts to Voldemort.
We know that Voldemort did not have any interest in murdering Lily until she got in the way of him killing Harry. He even told her, “Stand aside, silly girl!” Therefore, we know that he, being the heir of Slytherin, was only after the heirs of Gryffindor – James and Harry – and not Lily, who was just Lily.
So that is our theory as to why Voldemort wanted to murder Harry and James Potter.
teehee, gigglegiggle. bahahahahahahaa.
WE ARE BLOODY BRILLIANT!!!!!!
KTODSPAF,
<3Hayley
August 5, 2003
This was the best night of my life.
August 3, 2004
6 Girls
+ 7 Boys
+ 10,000 Marshmallows
+ 10 Sidewalk Chalks
+ 2 Cars
+ 1 Policeman
+ 1 Creepy Whisper
+ Midnight
__________________
One Crazy, Crazy Night
November 1, 2005
My new goal is to try and blog more like Meg Cabot, who somehow always has enough to say that it takes her a lot of words.
Sometimes, I am very daunted by words. I’m always afraid that somehow, I will run out of them, and then I won’t have anything to do with my life. I go to the library or a bookstore, and I see all of the books there, and I think…
Holy crap. Look how many words have been used up.
It just doesn’t seem like there are that many more combinations of them that are possible.
And whenever I read something absolutely wonderful, like the ( tropopause monologue ) of Angels in America, I think, “That combination of words is so breathtaking… and no one can ever use it again and claim it their own. There are so few breathtaking combinations of words that can be mine.”
I get paranoid about everything I write after that, because a) WHAT IF I INADVERTANTLY COPIED SOMEONE ELSE’S ENTIRE BOOK? and b) WHAT IF SOMEONE ELSE PUBLISHES MY COMBINATIONS OF WORDS BEFORE I GET THE CHANCE TO, AND THEN NO ONE WILL BELIEVE THEY’RE MINE?
Then I hate words for a few minutes, and try to get by without them. But thinking without words is difficult sometimes, and if someone comes in, communicating without words can be awkward.
It is a dilemma.
August 25, 2006
Dear Veronica Mars,
I have been watching your show far too much on YouTube. Can you teach me how to solve mysteries? I lose stuff a lot.
Sincerely,
Hayley
December 25, 2007
Best. Christmas. Ever.
The moral of the story is, if you’re two years old and you get a Barbie fork stuck so far up your nose that X-rays can’t find it (and they try to drug-test your mother because it’s 1989 and you accidentally told them it was a spoon up your nose and they assume you got the idea from watching your mother snort blow, when really it was a fork all along and your mother did no such thing!) and you eventually sneeze it out all over your poor harassed mother at dinner and it almost breaks your neck because your dad is holding your head in place; and then you refuse to talk about it for almost a week before very seriously telling your father, “I did it because there was a booger I couldn’t reach”… then you’ll laugh about it until you’re bawling eighteen years later.
Not that I ever got a fork stuck up my nose when I was two.
…
My Barbies still aren’t allowed to eat dinner.
December 23, 2008
I saw the Rockefeller Center tree, and watched the skaters circle round and round the golden-lit rink.
I was ignored in Gucci (again) but didn’t have to suffer through being called fat by Swedish Prada models in Bergdorf’s (although yesterday, Lily Cole called me ‘quite cool’ and asked where was ‘the queue to the wash-up’).
FAO Schwartz’ giant stuffed animals were everything I ever hoped they would be. There was a duo of siblings in matching Fair Isles Christmas sweaters jumping around on the giant piano, and they were precious.
AT FAO SCHWARTZ YOU CAN HAVE MADE YOUR OWN CUSTOM MUPPET. If I am ever rich, I will have my own fleet of Muppets. That is, now that I know it is possible, the epitome of all my life’s dreams. Fleet of custom Muppets.
I had dessert at the Plaza. It was so beautiful it was almost scary, and there is no portrait of Eloise on the wall anymore, just a case of 2004-rerelease Eloise memorabilia for sale in the side lobby. The waitstaff all wear tuxedos with tails and have cufflinks. Dessert was served with literal silver spoons, despite the fact that I clearly was not born with one in my mouth. The chocolate pot de creme with chantilly cream and chocolate streusel was divine, and it was free, because a middle-aged Armenian man who was too mild-mannered to Richard-Gere-in-Pretty-Woman himself out more than to order us French fries surreptitiously, which he sent back when we didn’t want them, paid for it.
I used the strategy I learned for such occasions on Long Island: ”Thank you,” and leave immediately.
The lights on the ironwork were almost enough to make me wish I were rich enough or self-deprecating enough to stay at the Plaza for Christmas, though.
And if I did, I would completely pour a pitcher of water down the mail chute.
March 23, 2009
http://hayleyanneperkins.com/blog/?p=3
I’ve been trying to think of an appropriate way to christen my new blog as Hayley Anne Perkins, but my ideas always seem to fall short, at least in my own mind. I’m very conscious of the implications of blogging to an audience that comprises more than just your best friends and your mom… I’m vaguely terrified of saying, or rather typing, just the wrong thing in just the wrong way and coming across as a terrible person. Or at least as a person with an overinflated sense of self-importance, which is just as bad in a blogger.
So to break the ice: my ode to NYC Teen Author Festival 2009.
To preface this extremely bizarre gobbledygook — NYCTAF09 (I’m lazy and enjoy acronyms) was awesome. I had an amazing time meeting all of the authors and several readers, and everyone was really nice and extraordinarily “chill” for it being an autograph signing… given my boy band expertise, I’m used to autograph signings involving at least three fainters and a tablejumper. I was glad to see that everyone was patient and open to conversing with everyone else in line as they waited, and it was a treat to see the way that the writers complemented (and complimented!) each other.
While most people at the event today brought or bought stacks of books by their favorite writers, I brought the ultimate book: the Dictionary.
I asked every author to sign over their favorite word, and I promised to take the collection of Best Words and write a little mishmash of a piece. Elise Broach said that I should try to get them all in order, and I seriously considered it until I started trying to decipher the autographs, and I realized that I was forgetting the order already. Sigh.
The form was promised to Judy Blundell for her choice — “poem” — and the tone to Heather Duffy-Stone… “lusty”. Unfortunately for all parties involved, poetry is the second-furthest thing from being my forte (with Math beating it easily). Anyone I’ve ever dated can attest. Therefore, given that this is not only a poem, but a poem using nonsense words, I hope no one takes it TOO seriously as a test of my writing ability! Unless you love it, in which case, this is totally how I write…
You couldn’t see it, but my eyes got very shifty at that last sentence.
And I have to say, David Levithan saying that he was excited to read the finished endeavor pretty much killed me. So here goes.
Ned Vizzini Stole My Pen
A Lusty PoemTwin popes –
one pulchritudinous, the other feculant
in appearance –
both indefatigable in their vast perversity,
though incredulous of the idealism of the other:
one a bonvivant in deep meditation on generosity and grace,
the other in love with his epiphany on ecstasy,
sneaked into the basement of the church
ignoring the musical comedy rehearsal
upstairs.One facetiously donned a crash
the other merely a lush apron
as they prepared to bake treats
for their family reunion
beneath the moon.There could be no peace between these two brothers.
Discussion broke down in their unctuous disregard for each other
like a luffing sailboat’s disregard for the wind
when fighting its way through a sluice
(in simile, not metaphor);
Something was always wrong.As delicious purple rhubarb dumplings
vied for space amongst the donuts
an ephemeral smoke began to rise:
almost magical in its majesty
And the brothers watched,
thunderstruck.As they watched in wonder,
the metal of the pots against the stove –
fulminate metals –
began to coruscate,
shooting sparks into the air.The pastries were ruined.
The brothers found between them a new sublimity:
they no longer had to bring dessert to the reunion
thanks to a force majeure.LOVE – Nora Baskin
PURPLE - Jessica Blank
POEM - Judy Blundell
MEDITATION – Coe Booth
ECSTASY - Elise Broach
PEACE - Susane Colasanti
EPIPHANY (BUT NOT IN A RELIGIOUS SENSE)* – Sarah Darer-Littman
GRACE (NOT CHRISTIAN GRACE)* – Matt de la Pena
LUST – Heather Duffy-Stone
GENEROSITY – Gayle Forman
LUSH – Aimee Friedman
UNCTUOUS – Madeleine George
POPE – Maureen Johnson
TWIN – Kristen Kemp
PULCHRITUDINOUS – Justine Larbalestier
WONDER – David Levithan
DUMPLING – E. Lockhart
CORUSCATE – Barry Lyga
FAMILY – Carolyn Mackler
RHUBARB – Sarah MacLean
SUBLIME – Megan McCafferty
DELICIOUS - Lauren McLaughlin
LUSH - Neesha Meminger
SOMETHING (BECAUSE “SOMETHING IS GOOD”) – Billy Merrell
CRASH – Blake Nelson
BONVIVANT – Micol Ostow
INCREDULOUS - David Ozanich
EPHEMERAL (BUT ONLY FOR TODAY) – Matthue Roth
FORCE MAJEURE - Marie Rutkoski
SNEAK – Lisa Ann Sandell
FACETIOUS (BUT FOR REAL) – Courtney Sheinmel
DONUT (NOT DOUGHNUT) – Brian Sloan
IDEALISM - Jennifer Smith
PERVERSITY – Rachel Vail
INCREDULOUS – David Van Etten
LUFF – Ned Vizzini
SLUICE – Adrienne Maria Vrettos
INDEFATIGABLE - Cecily von Ziegesar
MOON - Melissa Walker
THUNDERSTRUCK - Lynn Weingarten
FECULANT - Scott Westerfeld
VAST - Suzanne Weyn
MUSICAL COMEDY - Maryrose Wood
METAPHOR – Lizabeth Zindel“FULMINATE” and “MAGICAL,” I am so sorry, but I can’t read your autographs or remember who wrote them… if it was you, please reclaim your Favorite Word in a comment!
My dad likes to tell the story of when he took me to a garage sale when I was about two and I picked up a discarded pricetag from the ground, held it up in the air, jumped up and down, and yelled, “LOOK! I GOT A TICKET TO RIDE!”
I love this movie. The later Scooby-Doo cartoon films, like The Witch’s Ghost, Pirates Ahoy!, Zombie Island, even The Boo Brothers… they just don’t compare. The tone of the original Scooby-Doo television mysteries was more sweet than sinister, and the more modern movies just don’t follow that theme. Reluctant Werewolf and Ghoul School, though, despite not being mysteries or having the rest of The Gang (these movies center around Scooby, Shaggy, and Scrappy-Doo, who made his debut to the series in 1979), are sweetly spooky and have just enough snark to hold adult interest. The animation is bright and groovy and actually HAND-DRAWN, not overly clean and clinical like modern cartoons. They’re just cute.
So after the Dr. Seuss extravaganza, I was too psyched by my discovery to NOT keep the DVD going until the end… and I found… An original, silent, Pink Panther cartoon! The Pink Panther was outsmarting a team of white Friz and blue Friz in the forest (he kept snapping them with blue snapping turtles). I’m trying to narrow down which short it really is, but it’s hard — the original Pink Panthers seem to have a very small internet following. I think, though, that what I saw today was either Pinknic, Pink Paradise, or Come On In! The Water’s Pink.
