Short Film (or something similar)

     So…I’m not sure how many people know this, but I write. I love to write….and according to several people I’m pretty good at it. When I write, I see things as I would like for them to happen..(if that makes sense). I see them as if they’re my own little personal movie. Because of this, I’ve always had a passion for film. I would love, love, love, LOVE to go to film school. It would be a dream come true.

     ANYWHO, that’s not the point of this post. I’m not really sure how many people read this blog exactly, but I know that Nate and Sam might (and I might just tell them some other way). This is mostly for them I guess, though anyone else who would like to show any interest or at least give me ideas is welcome to jump on the wagon as well.

     I’ve been wanting to do a short film or a fake trailer for a film or something like it for months now. The problem is that I don’t really have anyone here to participate and I’ve never voiced it. So, I’m asking you guys now, mostly out of curiosity if any of you would be willing to (or even excited to) participate. And of course, that doesn’t necessarily mean acting. If you have some ideas for what to do that would be great. EVEN BETTER, if you have a camera that’s better quality than mine…or software that’s better than mine, that would be awesome. Anyway, please, please let me know.

     I have lots of ideas already and I’m thinking about starting on what will more or less be a script because I can’t write an actual screenplay or anything like it. I was thinking of doing more of a dramatic piece…mostly so that I can play around with makeup and fake blood, which is appropriate I suppose since Halloween is so close. So, if playing in goop sounds appealing, hit me up.

Tales from Group Therapy

     I’ve been thinking a lot today, the day after my horrible trip to Madison, Wisconsin finally ended. We got back a little after one in the morning, and the drive home was terrible. Anyway, one thing it did was give me time to think.

     The one thing I did the most was remember a lot of different things that happened the couple months that I had to go to therapy every day instead of school. There were some funny stories, some horribly sad stories…some crazy stories. I saw it all.

     There was one guy that I had a crush on the whole time he was there. His name was Casey, and he was responsible for the funniest memory I have of that place. There was one exersise he did which was somewhat similar to what we used to do at the end of SOS. You would have to go around in a circle and tell someone else something you like about them. Casey chose me and told me… “Amanda, you are the nicest person I have ever met. I have never heard you say one bad thing about anyone else. You are always so incredibly sweet.” I laughed soooo hard when I got home. Casey obviously doesn’t know much about me.

   Then, there was the girl who was pregnant. She claimed she had “no idea how it happened.” Come on, now. I mean…come on. Unless you’re going to try to pull the immaculate conception card, which I’m pretty sure won’t work these days, then you have some idea how it happened. Even if you don’t know the who, when, and where, I’m sure you have some idea how. A health book could tell you how.

     She was one of the more ridiculous ones. There were quite a few that made me feel a little better simply because I could say to myself, “at least I’m not that stupid.” There was also a kid who was absolutely insane, to the point that most of the time they forced him to stay out in the hallway, where he spent most of his time attempting to beat a door down and scare the crap out of everyone else in the classroom.

     Then there were some sadder cases…

     There was one girl who I couldn’t help but try to reach out to. Her mother was in prison, and had been for quite some time. She had lived with her grandmother up until a couple months before her stay in the program, when her grandmother passed away. She was dating a girl who was nineteen (Sam was sixteen), and who abused her emotionally and physically, yet she kept going back to her, and she was into a lot of the harder, more serious drugs. I didn’t get to keep in touch with her, though I actually would have liked to. She was a really sweet girl…just very messed up.

     Perhaps the one person I met there that had the most profound effect on me was Wade. Wade is one of the sweetest guys I have ever met. Earlier that year, he had come out (of the closet, yo) to one of his friends. He wasn’t planning on telling his mother for some time because he wasn’t sure how she would take it. Well, somehow, it made it back to his mom. After his mom found out he’s gay, she turned on him. Completely turned on him. Her own son. She told him she hated him.

     And, yes, I know that sometimes things are said that people don’t really mean. She meant this though. She drove him to try to commit suicide by taking a bunch of pills and then his step-father had to call for an ambulance. Then, after his two-week hospital stay, they recommended that he stay in the partial program for a couple weeks, which they always recommend. She wasn’t even going to take him. Again, his step-dad had to.

     So, what kind of mother would do this to their child? An overly religious “throw a Bible at the gayness” type? Nope! She came to pick him up and I saw her once. She was almost dressed, smelled like cigarette smoke, and had bleach blonde hair. I mean, it would be really sad regardless, but that was sad and also more than a little ridiculous.

9/23/2008

What’s new with me today, you ask? Okay, so no one really asked. Well, today I’m in Madison, Wisconsin: one of the most horrible places on the face of the planet. The people are rude, they have gay accents, and I had to put the “do not disturb” sign on the door after the FIFTIETH time housekeeping tried to come clean my room. That’s only a slight exaggeration.

I hardly talk to my mom on a normal day, so I really don’t know much of what goes on outside in the real world. I talk to a few people through Myspace…and there’s a facebook comment here and there.

As time goes on, the idea of moving to Seattle sounds better and better. Nothing really keeps me here. My mom would be better off living alone…since she had me she hasn’t been able to have much of a life. Seventeen years without a social life has to bite. Seattle sounds like my kind of town.

The thing about not seeing anyone for so long is that everyone forgets about you. Well…they never really forget, I suppose. You become a distant memory. Life goes on for them, while it’s frozen in time for you. Your friends go to prom and homecoming. They date and go to school and make new friends, which is the way things happen naturally. You can’t expect everyone else to stop because you do. Not everyone else lives under a rock.

So, if suddenly I were to appear again (which has already sort of happened a few times)…everything has changed. Your friends suddenly have boyfriends and other friends and new inside jokes. They talk about things that you don’t remember because you weren’t there. You’re not a part of things anymore and it was rather foolish to even imagine that you would be. This is just how things happen in life. Things were the way they were for a time, but everything changes. LIfe is about changes. If things didn’t change, we could never grow.

So, the way I see it, since things have changed for everyone else, I have three options. a) I can try to move back down south and try to be a part of everything again, mending broken relationships that have fallen completely apart and trying to pretend that I am not an outsider. b) I can try to move back down south or stay where I am now and try to make new friends, constantly surrounded by things that remind me of how I used to have friends that actually talked to me once. Finally, c) I can move to Seattle, so I’m all the way across the country.

I hear you saying, “how does that fix anything?” Well, first of all, I won’t have the reminders that I have now. I will probably have even less communication with my friends than I do now. Of course, it means that in the future I probably won’t be invited to weddings, baby showers, and so on. Would I have been invited anyway or would I have just had to hear about it?

That’s what usually happens these days. I do occasionally get invited to things. Usually church functions. The other day, Rebecca invited me to her homecoming football game. I would have loved to have gone, but we had to prepare for this LOVELY trip we’re on now.

As a rule, I doubt I cross anyone’s mind when doling out invitations. I live too far away, or I just haven’t been a part of things for so long, etc., etc. It doesn’t really hurt my feelings per se. I’m not mad at people or offended by it or anything. It just hurts that that’s how life is. It hurts, but I understand it. I’d be stupid not to.

Insert Title Here

First, a few questions. Does anyone read this blog anymore? If they did, would they really care what this says? Is it incredibly lazy that I type one blog up and post it on WordPress, Myspace, Xanga, and other sites? What would Sonic be like if he actually looked like a hedgehog? How does someone with Alton Brown listed as one of their heroes have friends that aren’t bots on Myspace? Why do I care about anything that happens on Myspace?

So, I finally finished school for last year and started the whole bloody thing all over again. One good thing that I can say is that my tutor this year isn’t a complete waste of oxygen. The other one was and I’m not exaggerating. Everyone saw it. Ask me sometime and I’ll tell you horror stories.

Another good thing–my textbooks aren’t from the sixties. My literature last year made me want to kill someone (and I had someone specific in mind). You can only read about Clay-boy (the literary character that apparently inspired John-boy from the Waltons) for so long before you start fantasizing about stabbing things.

It’s almost 3:30 AM as I type this, and yes I know I should be in bed. My sleeping’s been a little more regular lately, but tonight is an exception.

The only bright spot I can find in life at the moment is driving. Driving makes me happy. I like to get out of the house and see all the pretty colors of outside when I go driving, instead of the dark walls of the prison that is my home. So for twenty minutes here and there I get a glimpse of what life is like for normal people. Must be nice.

There are a few nice things. For example, at the rate I’m going, I will most likely finish all of my schooling in two years (instead of three). The work that I do (two days worth) only takes me a few hours, so I have a lot of free time. That could really be either good or bad. More free time…but nothing to do with it.

I’m bummed about a few things the more I think about it. I’ll probably not get to go to prom/homecoming/formal dances/school functions in general. Even if someone would go with me, I never see anyone for them to ask. I don’t go to church much anymore. I guess I should work on that, but to be completely honest, I just don’t have it in me most days. I don’t have the anxiety over it that I used to, but for the most part I don’t feel like being bothered. It’s a funny thing because I want to go. Well, I WANT to go to The Vineyard, because people there don’t bother me as much. I don’t feel like I’m being guilted into being in plays and assorted gay performances. Nobody–nobody is putting me in a bathrobe and calling me a Bible character. It just won’t happen.

Right now, Carrie and Steve are the only people I see for the most part. Carrie’s pretty much my best friend right now I guess. I don’t usually get along with people my own age anyway. It’s one reason school was out of the question. I only see them occasionally when I go to my gran’s house. Other than that, I have limited social interaction. I occasionally will go places with my mother. I don’t go anywhere at all with kids my own age. No dating. No movies with friends. No trips to the mall. Nothing at all that a teenager would do.

A few things keep me sane. Music, for one. I listen to music almost constantly. Depending on what mood I’m in, it’s either background noise or I’m completely immersed in it. It forms images and stories in my mind as I listen… If only I could paint. Reading helps too. I’ve been reading the Twilight series, and they’re incredible. Seeing Carrie and Steve helps too. And driving. Little bright spots in my dark existence.

So, I’m incredibly depressing. Sorry for that. Still, that’s the point of a blog isn’t it? This is what I would wrote if I wrote in a diary I guess. That’s life from my point of view. Comment if you care to.

-Amanda

ABOUT mandy

RANDOM VITAL STATS

Age: 16 (and a half)

Hair Color: black

Eye Color: hazel (mostly green and some brown)

Height: 5′5″

Weight: None of your business

Blood Type: something with an A in it?

ESP gifts: I hear voices. They tell me to do things.

Sports: Absolutely none.

Hobbies: Writing, reading, blogging now I guess

Interests: Reading, writing (maybe if I mix things up you won’t realize they’re the same as above)

Favorite genres: Horror, comedy, drama

Favorite types of music: Older rock (Foo Fighters, AC/DC, Kiss), Paramore, Evanescence, Flyleaf, Three Days Grace, Ingrid Michaelson, Sanctus Real, The Beatles

Favorite authors(not in any particular order): Edgar Allen Poe, Stephen King, Neil Schusterman

Favorite foods: Mexican, Italian, anything my grandma cooks

Favorite quote: “When everything feels like the movies, yeah you bleed just to know you’re alive…” Iris, by the Goo Goo Dolls

Goals: Publish a book, adopt a child, go to college (or make it through high school for that matter)

Colleges: Wright State, Sinclair Community College

Names of future children: Spencer, Liam, Alden, Dahlia, Avery, Lorelai, Kendall, Emily (no I don’t expect to use them all)

Romantic status: Taken

Banes of existence: ignorance, people who can’t do anything for themselves

Most common misconception people have about you: that because I’m quiet, I don’t have anything to say

Favorite shows: Family Guy, House, South Park, Arrested Development, Futurama, The Green

Favorite movies: most likely movies people have never heard of, because most of them are either foreign or indi. In any case, some of them are The Dead Girl, Rent, Three Extremes, The Ordeal.

Pets: two dogs

Pets you’d like: a pomeranion, or a hedgehog..or a frog

Siblings: none

What you do when you’re alone at home: I could tell you, but I’d have to maim you.

Guilty obsession: Broadway musicals

Ideal Christmas gift: A trip to London or New York City

Place you’d love to go: Ireland, London, New York, LA

One word people think of when they hear your name: no idea

One word that always makes you prick up your ears: musical

What you get in trouble for during class: humming, reading, or drawing

Best way to spend a rainy day: Cuddling

Life without color or without music: definitely without color

One habit you’d like to break: biting my nails

One thing you want to do that most people laugh at: become a filmmaker

Biggest phobia: Large crowds of people

Pirate or ninja: ninja

Low or high maintenence: pretty low maintenence

Last CD in your CD player: who uses CD players anymore? Last thing I played on my ipod was probably Foo Fighters.

Favorite childhood TV show: Are You Afraid of the Dark?

Gotta Love Parodies….

Everyone here has seen Annie, right? Of course you have. Remember the song that Miss Hannigan (Carol Burnette) sings called “Little Girls” ? Of course you do. Well, I had that song stuck in my head the other day for no reason and decided to make a parody out of it. It’s the best thing I’ve ever written (sadly), so I decided to post it on here. Ladies and Gentlemen, I present you with…. Cheerleaders

Cheerleaders

Cheerleaders
Cheerleaders
Everywhere I turn I can see them
Cheerleaders
Cheerleaders
People ’round here
eat, sleep and breathe them

I’m an ordinary student
With feelings
I don’t mind kids who take pride in this place
But I just sigh, no pride have I
So why are there all these pom-poms in my face?

Perfect Hair
Perfect Teeth
Why must they all be soooo…. perfect?
I’d have cracked
years ago
If I couldn’t be so sarcastic

Some districts are dripping with scholars
Accomplishments that could bring a tear
Lucky me! Lucky me!
Look at we’re drippin’ with
Cheerleaders

Little skirts
Tiny tops
Why must their clothing be sooo…. little?
If I wring scrawny necks
Surely, I will get an aquittal

Some day
I’m greasing the gym floor
Anything
To mess up those cheers
Send a flood
Send the flu
Anything that You can do
To those
cheering, cheering, cheering
cheerleaders

Some day I’ll laugh in the nut house
With all the nuts and the squirrels
There I’ll stay, tucked away
Until the prohibition of
Cheerleaders

Your Emotional Drug

It is my personal belief that everybody has an emotional drug. You know, something to numb the pain when you’re upset or clear your mind enough to think. My emotional drug is my music. Music can influence my mood beyond belief. Is anyone else like that? Sounds shouldn’t affect me this much, but they can provoke anger, joy, sadness and any combination of the three. I use it to calm me down or wake me up. Anything. I can’t go a morning without it. So, I wanted to know, what is YOUR emotional drug? What activity keeps you sane?

update on the raging tornado that is my life

I woke up one morning and decided that I needed a good cleansing rant. A few weeks later, I finally got off my lazy butt and decided to do so. Since our grand total of visitors is about five, I doubt any of you don’t know this story, but the point isn’t for you to have an enjoyable storytime. The point is for the story to be told. That’s why I don’t care if no one even reads this.

One year ago, I was sitting at a desk in Ridgeville Christian School. Knowing me, I was once again fretting about the fact that only one of the other fifteen freshman found me a worthy companion. That was the extent of my worries those days. I had no idea of what was to come. I had been at Ridgeville, with those same classmates, since second grade. Then on the worst Monday in the history of the world, that very world collapsed on me. Our administrator stood in the front of our chapel and told us with phony tears and what was supposed to be a sympathetic smile that our school would not be open the following year.

I didn’t think I was going to survive that chapel. If it is physicallly possible to die from loss of tears, I would have. For the next hour I, my friends, my teachers and the only school I had ever known wept for our loss. I have never known a more emotional length of time in my entire life.

They told us we needed money. They told us we needed enrollment. They told us we needed pledges and prayer. They told us we could actually make a difference. Like an idiot, I believed them. My heart would not accept that my home no longer existed. We fought hard. And some people would say that we won. We collected money, enrollment, pledges and loyalties. It wasn’t enough. The bank and the church that owned the building could not agree and Ridgeville was dead all over again.

You could say I was a bit shaken. I had no options and, in my mind, no hope. Only bitterness and fear. It seemed I would have to go to Middletown Christian School. I won’t go into that. That is a whole other rant. Just let me say that, from what I’ve seen, they are the epitome of a snobby private school that makes Christianity look bad. At the last minute, Mr. Milligan and the school board at Lebanon Christian decided to begin a highschool. They warned us that it would be online and very small. Five students. I felt more relief than anything resembling hope or excitement, but at least we had a school.

I began to hope that this was “meant to be.” Maybe one of the reasons God let Ridgeville die was so that this new, friendly private highschool could rise out of the ashes. I began to see myself as a pioneer of sorts, even when one by one, the other students moved on. Finally, it was just me and Carly, my best friend from Ridgeville. But I was still confident. We had been promised that even if the school did not grow, we would be able to finish highschool here. They promised to support us.

They didn’t.

Yet another school bites the dust. Here I am today, gearing up for my first year in the public school system. I don’t expect I’ll do well. It seems now that the death of these two highschools was in vain and I will end up right where I never wanted to be. But, who knows, maybe it’s a superpower of mine. Maybe, just maybe, I can move on to bigger and more corrupt things. Public school itself. Next year, when you get that text from a friend or pick up a newspaper and see that Lebanon Public School is in danger, you will smile to yourself and know who’s to blame.

Yep, that’s me. Samantha Paige Peffer the Werecat, destroyer of schools.

Just pray I don’t enroll in yours.

Edit: Today, April 7th, I found out that we don’t even get a page in the yearbook. Apparently, all that we count as are two homeschoolers using the school for location. How’s that for an insult to injury. We aren’t even worth claiming anymore.

Edit: April 8th, I found out later that they do intend to put us in the yearbook. The upsetting part is that the source of the false information was directly from a teacher. Grand. I do not appreciate teachers spreading rumors about us into the middle school.

Good old Valentines day…

I know that lots of people hate valentines day. As long as they’re single, that is. Lol. Is there a couple out there that doesn’t like valentines day? I doubt it. Because, you see, valentines day is a really great thing. It lets couple be ridiculously sappy and romantic without getting a hard time for it. Or, that’s the way it should be. I know some people myself who give anyone with any romantic inclinations a horrible time about it. I don’t find this very fair. You?

Jordin Sparks’ Lack of Spark

Does anybody here watch American Idol? *raises hand* I do. If you do then you probably remember jordin Sparks, last year’s winner. I for one had high hopes for this girl. No one can deny her killer voice despite her young age. She was interesting and not another “Superstar Barbie” like Jessica Simpson or Mandy Moore. I expected her CD to be a good one.

Well, my sister got the CD for Christmas and I hastily downloaded it onto my mp3. Guess what? It wasn’t that good. The songs were only meh and none of them showcased her voice to its full potential. The lyrics were kinda… stupid and overall the CD was very mainstream and very disappointing. *pouts* One or two were kinda funny – take a listen to Shy Boy – but half of them were breakup songs! I hate that. So, all in all, I can see why she has the lowest sales for any American Idol winner. I think I’m done ranting now. Thank you.
The End.