My Life as an M. Night Shyamalan Movie

Some of us are born with birthmarks, some with debilitating diseases. I was born with neither (thankful for the latter). But there’s this one characteristic that makes me feel like a walking talking freak show.

I have one sharp canine tooth. Well, both of them are sharp, but this one on the right—it’s like something out of Jurassic Park. We’re talking always nervous I’m going to bite down and spurt blood onto passerby, self-conscious that I will scare people into shrieking fits when I smile sharp. I don’t know if it’s been like this since birth; I’ve only been preoccupied with it for the past couple years. The thing is, I can’t remember how or when I ever would have chipped it or done something to make it so much more vicious than its brother. I’ve replayed about thirty different scenarios in my head trying to figure out which makes the most sense. I’ve narrowed it down to about 5 that are entirely plausible. I’m not sure which I’m fondest of.

1.    I am a deformed vampire. Subconsciously, I’m ashamed of who I am and therefore try to avoid blood whenever possible. Or maybe my family has a long line of social gaucheness (that’s not the “maybe” I’m referring to; that’s a definite), and evolution decided to give me a sharp canine that would make me seem endearing or even charming. Quirky.
2.    I was born into a pack of ravenous wolves and ate only flesh for the first five years of my life. Momma wolf shattered part of my tooth to help me ward off the predators.
3.    It’s like in Signs where part of the plot makes no sense but will somehow help me in the end (when aliens attack).
4.    The tooth resting under this canine has been a bad, bad tooth and my canine is punishing him.
5.    I am highly evolved.

My guess is #3. Now I just have to wait around for the Shyamalan twist. 

Pinterest: My New Source for Daily Inspiration

The internet is an ocean of inspiration. I find all my background photos on deviantART, get all my book recommendations from Goodreads, turn to inspiring advertisements at Creativity. On my desktop I have folders filled with possible haircuts, photographs I like, sheet music I'd like to learn, and other things I've stumbled upon. I am so happy that I've now been introduced to Pinterest. We shook hands about 72 hours ago, and since then I've only let go to eat, sleep, and feed the cats.
Addiction.
Pinterest lets you:
1. Search for things you like. You can search for recipes, logo design, and even pictures of cats with umbrellas (Why there aren't more of these, I simply cannot comprehend.).
2. "Pin" anything you find on the internet to your Pinterest boards. When you install the pin button on your browser, you can save just about anything you come across on the WWW.
3. Save your inspiration in one spot. This, in my opinion, is the best feature of Pinterest. No more fumbling through folders on your desktop, waiting for those 437 images of Paris to load. You simply categorize the things you've saved and voila. Organizational bliss.
The one thing I wish I could change about the site is that there seems to be no way to upload your own content. I'm sure there are a lot of talented photographers and interior designers who don't have their work on Pinterest. I guess you could upload your work to a different site and then pin it yourself, but, come on, that's two whole steps. Doesn't cut it by today's standards.
If you have a love for all things beautiful, a certain fondness for photographs of cheese, or really just an interest in anything at all, I highly recommend you check out Pinterest.  

What to do with excess energy?

I'm struggling trying to find an internship for this summer in the advertising industry. My hopes are still high, but I've been thinking about what I'll do if all else fails. Tutor French? It's a possibility. And I think it'd be beneficial for both the student and me. Read? That's definitely on the "to-do" list. But hey, I'm already 4 books ahead of my Goodreads goal (15 books this year)! Blog?

. . .

I might return to the realm of blogging. It's great practice. I can't stand writing in diaries. I always find them mopier and more melodramatic than they should be.

. . .

Je vais penser de ceci.