The Victorian Bride

   On September 15th, I was married. It was the beautiful day every wedding should be. There were flowers, and candles and even string quartet. But even with the jitters and stress of a wedding, I couldn't help but feel like I was actually saying goodbye to a part of myself. The part of me that swore I would not be ordinary, the part that screamed I was meant for more. Here I was promising myself and my life to another person. Now, I love my husband more than anything, but it is hard to stamp out 25 years of romantic notions. I felt a little like a Victorian bride who has just realized that she has given up her little amount of freedom for baby-making and housekeeping. 

  It is not like I mind the housekeeping and baby-making, I knew that would happen eventually. However, I never thought I would feel so defeated and so utterly ordinary so young. I never thought about how I was throwing away some chances at greatness when I threw the bouquet. What would have happened in history if Joan of Arc or Queen Elizabeth I married? Joan would have been too busy running after the children to help the French achieve so many victories in the Hundred Years' War, and Elizabeth would be speaking Spanish while she cooked the evening meal.

   Maybe some people just are not destined for greatness. If every person lead a great and exotic life, the world would surely be a chaotic, unstable place. I long for greatness, but also long for a normal life with my husband. Is it enough to WANT to be great, or am I slowly tearing off little pieces of me?

   The answers to these questions do not exist for me right now. What I do know is that I love my husband, I love my friends and family, and I love my city. 

The World Will End When My World Ends

  I have built my life on the belief that I was destined to be a writer. Shakespeare was more a friend to me growing up than any of the people I went to school with. I loved to read , therefore I learned a love of writing. So I studied myself raw and numb in high school in order to get into a good college so I could continue the pursuit of my difficult dream. I was accepted into my good university where I learned to consider myself at the top of the writing food chain. I was an English major. I was on my surely destined path to writing greatness! I graduated with honor after academic honor. Surely my destiny would be guaranteed?
  Yet, after 3 agonizing years of retail and an atrophying spirit, I do not have the experience to land any real writing jobs. Caught in an horrible Catch-22 existence, I consulted a very nice man who ran a small publishing company. He confirmed what I had been thinking for months. In order to get a leg up on my competition, I needed to go back to school and get my graduate degree. So, I researched all the universities in my area that offered the MFA I seek. What do I find out? That my program only accepts about 30 people during each enrollment period. Not only that, but that resumes and transcripts mean very little in their consideration of who they let in.
  So the degree that put my parents in the poorhouse, the degree that I worked hard for, means very little in the bigger picture of my life. I have to rely solely on my talent as a writer. What I am worried about the most is that what if I am not good enough? What if I am not meant to be a writer? Do I lay down my pen and my happiness? Do I have to waste my whole life at a job that makes me bitter and numb? The graduate program I desperately need to be accepted into only accepts about 18% of applicants. That one little number stands as a monumental obstacle between my dream and myself. What an unfair world! The application deadline is the beginning of October, and then I am sure they make their decisions within a month or two. So I can only pray that come the winter, when my destiny is decided and sent to me in a harmless-looking envelope, that the world will really end if the news is bad. I would rather be dead than spend even one more year dead inside.

Things That Grind My Gears...

   You know what really grinds my gears? Emergency vehicles. With their noisy sirens, and their seizure-inducing lights. They think they are so important! Making cars stop to let them through and acting all hurried and smug about it.  Go ahead, blare your sirens at 3 AM! It's not like anyone is trying to sleep! I know how congested the traffic is that early in the morning. Those one or two cars and the hobos scattered around really are quite the daunting obstacles! Oh my gosh! Beware the parked cars and the stray cat! Better put on the sirens just in case they miss the gigantic, noisy, red monstrosity coming towards them! How about you shut the eff up and get on your merry way saving the undeserving drunks who don't deserve your help!
   Maybe you annoying firetrucks and ambulances can do me a favor and plow down the annoying drunk people loitering on the corner underneath my apartment. I know drunk people are incapable of speaking at normal volumes, but do you really have to enlighten the sleeping masses to your epic flirting failures and your mostly retarded intelligence? Maybe instead of getting drunk you should read some books, because if I have to listen to you yell one more drunken pick-up line, I will seriously consider leaning off my balcony in order to pee on your annoying head! Get a life! Those "damn fine ladies" do not want a piece of you no matter how hard you try.Believe it or not, drunken, gussied up high school drop-outs hold little appeal for most women.
   The only thing that is more annoying than sirens and drunks, are runners. With their tight clothing, and their perky ponytails. Whoever thought running would be a fun way to get in shape needs to be partially drawn and quartered and then thrown into a vat of mutated acid piranhas! You don't look cool, you look sweaty and miserable! Plus, the ragged, heaving breathing is disgusting! Like, you are a morbidly obese person who just walked a whole 20 feet to the refrigerator. Stop heaving your sweaty breath in my space bubble! Go learn a fun sport like tennis or swimming! The only people who should be running are people who are trying to catch a bus or actual professional runners. At least the professional runners do it on private tracks where us normal people are not subjected to the sight of their sweaty, wilted forms. Run past me with your fancy mp3 holders and your designer water one more time and I swear I will trip you on purpose! Or maybe I can wait until you have a heart attack, then we could both be put out of our shared misery! You aren't a freaking antelope being chased by a hungry cheetah! That is what really grinds my gears.....Road House.

If Only We All Learned How to Pay It Forward

   To survive in this world, many people embrace a survival of the fittest attitude. People become greedy, vicious and uncaring in order to remain intact. While I understand this, and sometimes embrace this same thought process, it never ceases to sadden me. We learn to walk alone. We learn to close ourselves off from all others in order to protect ourselves. But sometimes we are allowed to make a connection with other people. I was lucky enough to have an experience that proved there is still goodness left in this world.

   Even though I have lived in Seattle for months now, I have yet to buy myself an umbrella. I put it off thinking that the nice weather would continue if I was unprepared for bad weather. Apparently Mother Nature doesn't give a crap about my delusions.As I left work and began my 12 block trek home, the light drizzle became a violent downpour. Within five minutes I looked more like a beached mermaid than a frustrated human. I was so wet that my hair kept dripping into my eyes blurring my sight. I was wet and angry, but still I trudged on! My mantra became "just a few more blocks".

   I was so wet and cold that I couldn't feel my fingers, and more than once I thought about throwing myself into the mammoth puddles to end my misery, not that drowning in a one inch puddle would have been an easy feat. I jealously gazed at passers-by who had the sense to carry umbrellas with them. Unfortunately, I am not prone to stealing what isn't mine. But as I considered a life of thievery, a woman approached me walking the opposite direction. She looked me up and down taking in my sea-nymph state and asked me how far I was going. I automatically replied my new mantra "just a few more blocks." She handed her umbrella to me saying I could have it. Being raised a proper lady, I kindly refused stating I couldn't take her umbrella. She said it was fine because she had another one in her purse which she pulled out so I could see. She handed over her first umbrella with its case exclaiming, " Now you actually might make it home without drowning!" I thanked her for the gift and she kept on walking.

   This amazing woman never even asked me for a dime. She just gifted me her umbrella and continued on. Her kindness hit me hard. By the time I arrived home I was almost tearing up. A complete stranger had turned my whole day around. There was still good in the world. There were still people who cared about others. I swore from that moment on that I would carry an extra umbrella with me in order to pay forward her kindness. Maybe I can also save a fellow human from a terrible day. 

   So to my kind rescuer: Thank you for being the kind person you are. Thank you for saving me from a frustrating day. Thank you for boosting my spirits and making this world a better place. I hope the best for you and I promise I will strive to do the same for others!

I Pray For a Zombie Apocalypse

   Sadly, I can no longer watch the History Channel. It seems like an Apocalypse frenzy every time I turn it on. There is always one documentary after another about the end of the world. Some of them say it will be a natural disaster, some swear it will be a plague, while others seem to think the end of the world will be brought on by a massive climate shift. While the scientists cramp their hands and brains with calculations and the scientific validity of apocalyptic scenarios, I pray that humanity is taken out by zombies. That's right, zombies, because zombies give me a higher chance of survival. Without immense financial or military backing, surviving world-ending natural disasters or climate changes would be extremely difficult. However, any idiot who can aim and shoot a gun can battle zombies and survive for at least a little while. With the proper preparation, every person has a fighting chance at surviving a zombie-type Apocalypse. I pray for a zombie Apocalypse, because I have the perfect plan to survive it.

Step 1: Preparation

Your plan is only as strong as your preparation for it. I plan on surviving the zombies unscathed and relatively comfortably considering the world is over. I plan to start taking various classes to build my fighting capabilities and to get my body in peak condition such as archery, shooting classes, fencing, and some sort of martial art such as Karate or Tae Kwon Do. That way I can properly and effectively defend myself against zombies in any situation, or with almost any weapon including my own hands. Another necessary preparation is having all of the necessary supplies. I will make sure I have a varied supply of guns and ammo, knives, and a well-stocked survival pack. I will make sure my zombie kit is always readily available at every moment of every day, because zombies do not have manners and will not think twice about disrupting dinner or your favorite show.

Step 2: Gather a Crew and Learn Some Skills

A group is only as strong as its weakest link, so make sure your group doesn't have one! I plan on utilizing  thorough investigative interview processes to attain members of my zombie-killing crew. I will make sure my crew has a vast array of skill sets including a doctor, scientist, technology professional, soldier, musician, engineer, professor, and even an inventor. Every person in my crew must take part in all of the above preparations so they are capable of defending themselves and killing scores of zombies. Average people are also able to join my crew if they have or learn a valuable skill such as desalinating ocean water, building shelters, or even advanced sewing. If you can kill zombies and you have skills, you are in!

Step 3: Have a Viable Plan 

Come up with a plan and stick to it. The more you deviate from your plan, the more likely it is to fail. After much thought I came up with an ideal plan for my location. I believe the best chance of survival is on the water. Ships have the benefits of an island with the ability to move. In most zombie movies, the zombies can not swim, thus a ship would be the easiest to protect and defend. This plan will not be difficult, as I live in Seattle, and there are many different types of ships to choose from close at hand. A military ship will be the best vessel to ensure survival for the beginning part of the Apocalypse and, luckily, there is a navy base right across the Sound. A military ship is large, stealthy, and already designed to defend against attacks. It has a basic and bare set-up which will more easily allow my crew to clear it of any zombies that have wandered onto it. We will take the vessel into the ocean while we zombie-proof it and are able to defend it without any problems. 

After the Apocalypse is well under way,and after things have settled a bit, we will return to the city and sweep it for capable survivors and more supplies. All new crew members will undergo rigorous training to ensure that the crew has no weak links. We will make city sweeps up and down the coast once a month until we stop finding survivors and zombie attacks become less frequent, or sparse, as we kill the zombies or they die off. Once the crew becomes large enough, we will begin to consider comfort and re-establishing a proper and functioning society. We will begin this endeavor by taking over a cruise ship since they are designed for comfort and basically off-land living. 

After the Apocalypse seems to be winding down, we will begin to replenish and build a proper society on our ships. Anyone with skills in trade will begin to teach others their skills. Everyone must choose a set of skills to learn in order to keep a functioning society. Any children that are born will begin defensive training at the age of five. It is pertinent that there are no weak links. We do not want another outbreak of zombies just because our children are helpless and totally dependent on the adults. After many years of sea living, we will consider moving back to land. 

People are either survivors or they aren't. So the question is, are you going to be a survivor, or are you going  to be a zombie? 

This Is My Club, No Advertisements Allowed

   I pay a lot of money for television every month in order to enjoy and be entertained by programs I love. However, I do not pay tons of money to watch advertisements. Advertisements have completely taken over television and it really grinds my gears. It enrages me that programs that should be an hour long are really only 40 minutes long with 20 minutes worth of commercial breaks. Even worse, most of the advertisements and commercials are extremely moronic. They are not funny, not entertaining, and definitely do not cause me to race out of my apartment to buy the crap that they are peddling.
   At first, commercials had only invaded television. It was a slight annoyance that I accepted due to the fact that I could avoid them most of the time. But advertisements are an evil breed that have been crouched and waiting in the dark for an opportunity to be unleashed upon the world. At the first sign of a weak defense, they begun sneakily implanting themselves into our movies. The first time I had to watch 10 minutes of commercials before the previews actually started I almost pooped my pants in order to fling it like an enraged monkey at the screen. I felt so violated. The movie theater once was a safe haven for entertainment seekers, but suddenly it became spoiled ground which I began to loathe.
   My peaceful world of entertainment was insidiously being taken over by the unfeeling, imbecilic advertisement monster. But at least I still had the Internet. Yes, advertisements were placed on websites that I frequented, but they were easily ignored. Oh how wrong I was! At first, it started with network sites when you wanted to watch episodes. But then, the bloody commercial monster turned its greedy eyes to YouTube and Hulu. There was no safe nor serene place left to turn to. The poison seeped into our iPads and our Kindles, taking over all of our mobile devices. The foolish advertisement atrocity thought it had won.
   But I am not so easily defeated. I am a malicious little thing when I feel used and abused, or even slightly irritated. My weapon of choice? A massive channel selection and the mute button. Advertisements may have invaded every single entertainment frontier, but they can not force us to watch their vile offal. If I watch television, I dodge the commercials by constantly changing channels until I find one that isn't on a commercial break. If I am on my computer or mobile devices and a forced advertisement is playing before my content, I mute it and open a new tab and browse, or I play solitaire until it is finished. When I go to see a movie, I purposely arrive 15 minutes late in order to miss the advertisements and commercials, but still in time to watch the previews.
   Advertisements and commercials are pernicious and execrable nuisances on society. They are almost impossible to escape in this modern age, but they can be thwarted. Just remember this old adage: Hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil.

I Am a Grammarian, and Yes, I Judge You When You Use Improper Grammar

    As annoying as nails on a chalkboard or a crying baby are, nothing makes me more irate than people who use improper grammar. Anyone can learn proper grammar if they try, so even if a person is extremely unintelligent, they can at least sound somewhat intelligent and civilized.

   I understand that not everyone is as gifted in language as I am, nor do people necessarily have the time or money to achieve a degree in English. But seriously, it should be a requirement in high school that all students must take an English grammar class. They could call it something snappy that grabs the students' attention like "Learn Proper Grammar Or You Will Die Jobless Under a Box In an Alley", or maybe "Proper Grammar: All of the Cool Kids Are Doing It". Anything to teach America's youth to sound like anything but cheap, uneducated ruffians.

   I myself am taking a part in the rehabilitation of America's grammatically challenged population. I was bored one night browsing Craigslist for platonic friends, though it seems America needs to amp their vocabulary and learn what it means to be platonic, and I what I saw broke my slightly black heart. There were numerous postings with students begging for someone to help them with their English classes. Feeling compassion that I admittedly feel on a rare occasion, I replied to one of them. The poor fellow indeed needed my assistance. His spelling was actually pretty good, but his grammar was terrible. There were so many split infinitives that I thought I would trip and be impaled on one!

   I just find it so sad that students are unable to find grammatical help when they need it, that a student has to go begging on Craigslist for help that should be easily obtained from his professor. Maybe if more people cared about grammar, there would be more people capable of helping the grammatically-impaired citizens in our country. Maybe I should help fund and produce a commercial on television to raise awareness of my cause. It could be like the commercials about starving African children or abused animals with sad music in the background. Instead of abused animals, my commercial could feature abused verbs and adjectives, and papers covered in red proofreading marks. Oh my gawd! That is sooooooo sad!

   All I know is that I am tired of witnessing such atrocities and abuses toward the English language! I swear it shall be fixed, even if I have to fix it one student at a time.

For My Mentor Emily Dickinson

To Emily~ Even across centuries, I feel as if I know you.

Life is a void-

a booming nothing

that builds over years-

a foreboding crescendo,

and then-

nothing.

A suffocating silence.

Chelsea Voorheis 2011 

Hope is a butterfly-

that draws you in

with carefree flight and color.

The hurried hand can understand-

the wish,

a panicked grasp.

The butterfly cannot be kept-

doomed by cloying freedom.

Pained hands strain to catch-

the butterfly feels the longing brush

and flies among the dirt

and mourns

what only God can touch.

Chelsea Voorheis 2012



It's Not All Heaving Bosoms and Throbbing Members

   As an English scholar, I should probably have standards as to what I deign worthy of reading. Sadly, I do not. In fact, I absolutely revel in the the novels of the romance persuasion. Sure it makes me feel like one of those lonely cat-loving spinsters that has no love life and must live vicariously through the words of others, but there is just something so damn fun about a romance novel.
   A romance novel doesn't pretend to be what it is not. The best romance novels own up to being the fluffy things that they are. Romance novels are easy to read, predictable, and a good way to unwind at night before going to bed. However, not all books that fall into the romance category are of the "heaving bosom" persuasion that so many people seem to shun. Some are genuinely well-crafted pieces of fiction. One such series is the Aisling Grey series by Katie Macalister.
   I would actually consider this series more along the genre lines of paranormal romance, though it is a romance all of the same. However, Katie Macalister did not sacrifice quality of writing and plot in favor of smoldering eyes and throbbing members. Each book in this entire series is entertaining and well written, with sex scenes that actually fit into the plot rather than appearing to be haphazardly pasted in wherever there was a chance.
   This series follows a woman named Aisling ( pronounced Ash-ling) Grey, a woman who is a guardian, or a person who uses their magic inclinations to protect others and control dark beings. The story has the reader following her exploits as she discovers who she is as a guardian, as well as a dragon's mate. Aisling is a divinely written character with enough personality and believability to put any real life person to shame. Within the first chapter of the book, Macalister has the reader genuinely rooting for Aisling.
  The sex scenes were, of course, as hot as dragon's fire, and can make even the most worldly person become flushed. The series overall is a very fluid, charming, and unique series that any female reader would love. Even though it technically is considered a "romance" series, it should be given its chance. This series is available in paperback as well as electronic editions for e-readers such as the Kindle and Nook. Happy reading!

Companies Think English Majors Just Sit Around Saying Big Words

   Nothing is more frustrating than job hunting. In fact, next time I am faced with a job hunt I might just "accidentally" slip and fall into a tank filled with acid and piranhas, because even a gruesome and painful death seems more appealing than skimming one more job posting filled with spelling and grammar errors.
   Job hunting wouldn't be as annoying as it always seems to be if the companies doing the hiring actually understood what an English degree is. I am constantly browsing and applying for jobs as proofreaders, copywriters, and editors. Every single one of these postings always ask for people with English degrees, and then go on to require someone who has had experience editing, proofreading, and writing. What do you think English majors do? Sit around in wing-back chairs, sipping tea while we say big words to one another?
   For all of you people who do not understand what English majors do for four years in college, I will explain. Yes, we do read a lot. Mostly books that you wouldn't even dare to begin to read, or understand for that matter. Yes, we do take grammar classes where we delight in the small nuances of the English language. And yes, sometimes we even sit in wing-back chairs. But we also write! We write 25 page thesis papers, research essay after research essay, poetry, short stories, and much more. And guess what? We edit and proofread our own work too! That is why it is so frustrating to find a job in the writing/editing field. Companies want 2-3 years of professional proofreading and editing experience. That is what English majors do for 4 years of their lives!
   Some would argue that, technically, it is not professional experience, but I disagree with that. As first defined in the dictionary, a professional is someone following an occupation as a means of livelihood or gain. I was working towards my English degree to gain knowledge of the field I love. Obtaining my degree ensured my parents' financial support through school, thus for four years English was my livelihood. Another common definition for professional is a person who is an expert at his or her work. I can write a 25 page thesis paper in a matter of days, dissect any sentence in the English language and describe its parts, and read Russian literature like it is nothing more than a child's picture book. I can even accomplish all of this while graduating with honors. Yeah, I am an expert at my subject.
   I am a professional English scholar. I have four years of professional writing and editing experience, or maybe I just reclined on an ostentatious wing-back chair saying words things like egregious and quixotic. I guess no one except us English majors will ever know.
  
  



If My Mom Was a Cartoon, My Name Would Be Belle and I Would Have a Castle

   I look around at my nice, but small, one bedroom apartment and think wtf? Belle and I are essentially the same people. We are both bookworms that wanted something more in life than our tiny, hum-drum towns. We both like animals, and like to sing, and are seen as a little odd to most people who don't understand us. So how is it that Belle ended up with the handsome prince, the gigantic castle with a ridiculous library, and a fabulous wardrobe, and I ended up with this one bedroom apartment and the only bookcase I could get to fit in here?!
   Oh yeah, she is a cartoon and I live in the real world. Well, Belle can have the real world with its silly realities, and not-so-happy endings. I want my over-the-top ballgown and a romantic waltz with the Beast-Prince. Why are our childhoods corrupted with cartoons that fill us with false hope of a false reality? These cartoons mold us to expect a fairytale with princes, and music, and magic. We grow up playing princess dress-up and holding tea parties for our enchanted friends and dreaming of balls and castles. But oh how harsh reality wanders in! Castles turn to one bedroom apartments, ballgowns turn to jeans, and the Beast-Prince turns to a mortal male who can sometimes act quite beastly.
   I am a woman who fulfills my girlhood fantasies by continuing to wear Halloween costumes and reading romance novels when I am bored. Sadly, this is as close to Belle's life as I am going to get. If I have children, I do not know if I will let my children watch Disney movies. Why risk making them go through the same crushing reality I went through? Perhaps I will let them watch movies that are still fantastical, but contain more realistic aspects like The Mummy. Sure, this movie is about an archaeologist and a soldier who raise an evil mummy from the dead, but when my daughter begins to realize real life isn't truly as adventurous as this movie, I can at least say, "Hey, you can always be an archaeologist, and I know some soldiers I can introduce you to."

The Best Espresso Comes With a Dapper Gentleman On It

   As an espresso fiend, moving to Seattle was like the best dream I have ever had mulitplied by 10 and covered in unicorns and rainbows. Every Seattle block has at least one, usually two or three, coffee shops. I was in espresso heaven, imbibing at least 2 drinks a day. After weeks of jittery hands and a racing heartbeat, I was starting to burn out. It wasn't the delicious espresso itself that jaded me, it was the repetitive coffee shop experience. Most coffee shops have a hyper, in-a-hurry atmosphere, where business-types and hipsters seem to swarm in angry, nervous hordes. Heaven help you if you break coffee shop etiquette, you may be expelled from Coffee Kingdom by a buzzed out swarm of coffee snobs.

   Feeling melancholy and forlorn about my espresso woes, I wandered into my neighborhood coffee shop called Uptown Espresso. I was immediately enthralled by the odd and intriguing decor of the place. There were cute little tables everywhere with whimsical lamps on each one. There were also old, cozy wingback chairs, mismatched chandeliers, and opulant mirrors hanging on the walls. The place looked like it had been decorated by a titled English grandmother and the Mad Hatter. It was unique, charming, and completely appealed to my romantic sensibilities.

   But the true test would be the espresso. I feared the worst. A coffee shop that had that much personality could not possibly produce good espresso. I walked up to the counter and was greeted by the laid-back and hilarious baristas. I ordered my standard dirty, non-fat chai and held my breath. When my drink was finished the barista didn't just plop my drink down while flatly announcing what it was. She actually announced "This chai is like the men I date- tall, skinny, and dirty!" I laughed so hard I could barely accept my drink. I took a sip of what was certainly heaven. It was the best espresso I had ever tasted! Plus the cups have an awesome logo. I mean who is able to resist such a dapper, proper gentleman who is elegantly reclined in a chair while stirring his beverage. He looks like his name should be Basil or Baxter, and that he would be quite civil and charming when approached.So awesome! I have found my espresso soulmate at long last.

Why a Vampire Is Better Than Your Boyfriend

   While I am the first to admit all the hullaballoo about vampires is at a ridiculous level, I absolutely refuse to stop my obsession of forcing a vampire to make me his eternal Bride. I would look killer with pale skin and fangs. Some people do not understand why a woman would want to be the lover of these fangy studs. But here are many reasons why a vampire makes a better boyfriend than the average blah mortal man...

Reason #1- A Vampire Will Always Look Good- Vampires are immortal and thus are not subject to mortal laws such as aging, disease, or clumsiness. Their hair will always retain its color, their skin will remain flawless, and they will never have to worry about cellulite. Their sense of balance and awareness will always allow them to be all that is graceful, while your mortal man becomes grey, fat, wrinkly, and incapable of holding an erection for more than two minutes.

Behold! Pale prfection at 400. How is your mortal man holding up at 400 years? That's right, he is a pile of dust in the ground.

Reason # 2- Vampires Have More Money- Because vampires are immortal, they have literally had hundreds of years to accumlate a mass of wealth and riches. While your mortal bf may have a nice looking 401K and a small inheritance, a vampire has amassed hundreds of years worth of precious metals and stones, stocks, money, and probably a famous work of art or two.

A vampire has so much of this he uses it as pillows and scratch paper.

Reason #3- Vampires Have Supernatural Abilities- Whereas your mortal man can not see in the dark and has to get his mortal booty on a plane for 12 hours to get anywhere worthwhile, a vampire has a plethora of amazing powers. Vampires have superhuman strength, sight, hearing, and speed. Some can turn into bats or wolves, and some can teleport at will. The best part is most vampires are telepathic, so they will always know what you are thinking. They will always remember your birthday or what your favorite color is since they have access to your mind.

Reason #4-Vampires Survive Off of Blood- Women love to feel needed, and how much more needed can you feel when you are your vampire lover's sole means of survival? How sexy is it that they have to nibble at your neck to live? Not to mention the money you will save on groceries!

I will gladly be a vampire's personel chew toy.

Reason # 5- You Can Always Bring a Vampire Home to Mom- With hundreds of years to perfect their charm and chivalry, your vampire will have your mom drooling at his perfection. What mother wouldn't love someone who has perfect table manners and hundreds of years of developed intelligence. While your mortal man is dribbling food on his shirt, telling crude jokes, and showing his extensive knowledge of football, a vampire will be charming your mother with his vast knowledge of fine art, interesting historical trivia, and his ability to speak more languages than your whole family put together.

   Shall I continue? I really don't think I need to. Vampires are the perfect males. The reason people swear they don't exist is because if they did, all mortal men would be single.

The Way I Dress People In My Head

   Sometimes I dream of being a supreme Queen of the world. The first law I would establish would be a dress code. I truly dislike today's fashions. I miss the romanticism of corsets and elbow length gloves and the chivalrousness and dapperness of monocles and waistcoats. My law would enforce a different dress code for each day of the week: Medieval Mondays, Renaissance Tuesdays, Greek Wednesdays, Georgian Thursdays, Casual Fridays(My loyal subjects may wear whatever they want, including modern clothing because I am super magnanimous), Victorian Saturdays, and Edwardian Sundays. My kingdom would pretty much be a most an amazing place to live for historians and us dreamy types. Each day would have quite an odd look to it from day to day. My subjects essentially would look like extras that wandered away from a myriad of movie sets. As for me, the Queen Eternal, I would always strive to look like this....

   I know, a little over the top, but I am queen, so I do what I like. This is actually a painted portrait of Empress Elisabeth of Austria. She was considered the absolute beauty of the Victorian era and my idol. Even though she was Empress she didn't let it stop her from doing what she wanted to do. She traveled and spent hours everyday on a strict beauty regime. She definitely was a little crazy and had was obsessive about a lot of things, but she sure looked ethereal!

Welcome to My World of Shadows

   I may be an escapist. I may be a daydreamer. I might even be living a surreal life filled with things of my fancy in my head. An unending parade of whimsy and romance and all things ethereal. These words and pictures are a dialogue of how I choose to experience life, how I choose to survive it. Maybe you will recognize a piece of yourself in me. Maybe you in turn will learn to voice your inner crazy.