Welcome! Enjoy your stay.
I'm avoiding my two Microsoft documents open at the bottom of my laptop's screen with beginning this lovely little virtual peek into the sad, pathetic world of me, CrazyGirl724.
Dubbed that by the fact I am 'Crazy' over many things and the main one right now and has been for several months--a record for me--being the Jonas Brothers. Then, I am in fact a girl, which I thought I'd add for a nice touch. Lastly, seven and twenty four are my two favorite numbers.
Why have to choose one?
It's similar to a historic and impossible moment where you are being asked to pick just one Jonas Brother to do what you wish with. *Let's keep it clean thoughts, people. They are pledged Christians.*
Two simply is much better than one.
Two is the number of people it takes to fall madly in love with each other; unless you're in a love triangle where you love both and can't decide.
But then that's just a little ridiculous if you've allowed yourself to be involved in such a mess.
I mean, come on, it takes two to tango and all that smooth jazz, contemporary rock, alternative yada yada yada...I think you're with me on my meaning.
If you are--bravo and share the brilliance of actually understanding me and my weird complexity of words.
If you can't--no, don't feel bad. I'm not even sure where I'm going with this. Props for just trying.
One person you can thank for the start of my cyberspace 'journal' as Quizilla calls it, would be the one and hilariously random, sweet, and charming Greg Garbowsky.
Yes, the bass player of the Jonas Brothers. And NO, I don't know him. But I do read his blog, which is supremely hysterical.
Where does he come up with the things he writes?
I wish I knew.
His life seems fantastic, whereas mine consists of school, writing, caffeine, and little sleep.
Wow, where does that sound familiar...?
No, really. It reminds me of someone of text, probably never met, maybe not even real, but out there in the universe. Whether created by TWO people or on paper, is to be determined.
Let's see...I completely went off topic by about...three times? I could have gone further; how dysfunctional.
Ok, back on target: the two document tabs.
I have many, many plots, scenes, ideas, characters, dreams, smarts, pulsing cerebrospinal fluid, etc, all in my head at the moment, plus a craving for pie.
Currently, I'm working on a new Joe Jonas story that I could easily twist into a real novel. Just change a few names and place setting and I'd be good to go.
Except...it is utterly too appealing to think of Joe being the boy. Wouldn't you agree even though you haven't a clue as to what I'm talking about, story-wise?
Anyway, the lead character (who's a girl) has the talent of baking and pies are her specialty.
My mouth is watering at the memory of typing about how delicious her chocolate strawberry--always a superb mix--ones are. Are any of you with me on that drooling image and taste bud extravaganza?
Well, the story is the best yet that I have written. It's pretty sweet. I've got it all orderly and set in book form. Nothing has ever looked more beautiful (in writing sense, of course).
Then, I have my other document that holds all the margin ideas and story information in it...and the current residence of 'Living My Neverland.'
Among a few (ok, more than a few), JB stories. In my head though, still just a plot, is my Kevin One-shot that I will one day write and publish on here for my first reviewer, double.entendres.
Her favorite is Kevin and she casually (yet not) brought up the question (more like demand) of a Kevin J story. I'm kidding. She's the best.
I haven't been inspired by him as of presently or in the past, therefore, I never thought of it. Then, suddenly one climatic scene of a possible storyline came to me.
Very intense and emotional.
The date has not been set yet, nor has the production started on it. Sorry if I got you pumped.
Sometimes being a perfectionist (definitely) has its ups and downs. For example, proofreading.
Every time I upload a new chapter on here, it takes me over an hour to finish it. I'm always adding new sentences and editing the others.
I hate when stories are written hastily and then published with grammatical errors thrown left and right.
So many stories that I've read have great plots, but the writing is horrific. Does it really hurt to go back and check?
The product in the end is worth the annoyance of proofreading. Wouldn't you rather have people raving about both your brilliant ideas and writing skills?
I can't tell you how many times my hand has itched to click the 'message' button and allow my fingers to delve into the pros and cons of that author’s masterpiece and their weaknesses, insecurities.
Luckily for them (and my reputation), I'm not quite that mean. Call it a reprieve for my ghastly manners as a child and when my head finally deflated enough to see what a brat I was which inexplicably turned me humble. Thank you for consciences' and simple idealisms of life, right?
See what I mean about dodging?
I want to write and release the scenes in my expansive head, but sometimes I just ignore it and regret it later. I only have a limited time to write before I have to pass out on my bed and wake in a few hours for school.
Yes, I'm a night owl.
I actually formulated a theory that my REM cycle is reversed and I'm nocturnal. My imagination comes to life (literally) once the sun goes down.
It's the main focus of my writing, where I just jump into it and resurface with another Jonas Brothers story.
Like I said, pathetic.
Sleep is forgotten, thirst, hunger, yearning for fresh air. All of it hides when the moon comes out and darkness prevails. How dramatic, but true.
I love adventure, implausible events and sequences, love, romance, drama, comedy...you get the point. I am the definition of a hopeless romantic.
If you've read 'Finding My Neverland' and the sequel (which I adore abbreviating to 'LMN'), than you should know. If you have read them and still just realized by me telling you...than you obviously cheated. How could you not grasp that?
My stories are so mushy, especially the sequel, that I'm actually afraid to publish them in fear of being too much of a poor sap. Maybe I need to rethink the plot and add more action, if I haven't already. Mystery is quite fun to play around with as well.
OK, I've written enough in this 'journal' entry, I think. Good for you if you're still reading.
I had a sudden inkling to be like Garbo (who rocks) so I apologize for my atrocious attempt. I could never out stage the marvelous 'Grog Blog.'
Here's the non-clickable link (how do you manage that?): http://greggarbo.blogspot.com/
Got to give the cutie props for being awesome.
Oh, quick (maybe) funny concert story about the bassist.
I just recently went to one of JB's 'WYLMITE's' tour stops aka a show.
An appalling emo, (I think, I'm socially amnesiac on teen slang) screamo band was the opening act. The usual punk clothing: converse (nothing against those), knee high socks (for the lead singer), plaid skirt, tie over tee (again, pink haired chick lead vocalist), ripped jeans and bad hair.
I couldn't believe they were actually on the same stage that the Jobros were going to be on shortly.
Then, an arena employee came on stage, after the 'band' was done, and began to set up a discolored banner. The entire crowd was confused.
At last, it was raised and it was....Rooney's trademark sign! Everyone went crazy. They weren't supposed to be performing. The venue wasn't one of theirs.
I still believe that something happened with the Jonas Brothers and they asked Rooney to play a few songs to postpone THEIR arrival. It was the first thing that I felt after the excitement of Rooney soon coming on dissipated.
We'll never know, I guess.
Skip to a minute before the main performers appeared...
We, the fans, were all waiting (not patiently; chants of JONAS, JONAS were echoing through the arena,), when suddenly, a very familiar, tall, skinny guy walked on from the side I happened to be stationed at. (It's what the ticket directed me to, at least.)
Even the people who were probably using binoculars to see (and that's how they most likely noticed...duh!) started screaming. Gregory Garbowsky had just arrived, clapping his hands together, looking very pumped.
"GARBO!" someone abruptly shouted in hysteria. The twelve year old girl next to me jumped in fear and shock. It wasn't until then that the information registered in my brain that I was the one who had screamed.
My stomach was tightening with excitement and it must have affected my speech, because I didn't realize my vocal proclamation until I had already yelled it.
One of the most surreal and odd moments of my life.
Then, Garbo (don't you love how I talk about him as if we're friends. Pssh! I wish. I'd take acquaintances even. Not just because he's like THIS close with the Jonas Brothers, but he actually seems like a genuinely nice person. His blogs are too funny. He's real, that's what. A rare feat.).
As I was saying, Garbo then did the rock 'n' roll sign to my side of the arena. I quickly reciprocated, feeling the energy from him.
All in all, incredible night, freezing for where I live, but worth it. I signed the tour bus, which was fun.
I got overpriced memorabilia and heard ringing in my ears from the too many decibels of screaming girls around me.
All right, the end.
You've had enough of me and my embarrassing fan moments, not to mention, whacky generalizations of unsystematic topics for one night--at least it's night for me--late in the evening...or mid-morning I should say.
Off to face the writing or give in to an early night, not sure yet.
Take care, don't drink and drive and all that safety precaution wonderfulness (it saves your life, believe it or not!).
Till next time, if there is one,
Crazy
P.S. The font and sizes might be off. Quizilla or Steve, which is my computer's name, is being demented. Most probably Steve. He does it on a regular basis.
I apologize.
P.P.S. Was anything that I just wrote worthy of an 'Adult' rating? No? That's what I thought, but Quizilla begs to differ. Strange...
