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queenofzanHave I ever mentioned how much I love Firefox? Just letting you know.
So anyway. Less than a week till I move! Less than two days until Charlie and the Chocolate Factory comes out (IMAX here I come!)! Less than three days until HBP comes out! Is it just me, or is this the best week ever?
You know, except for the whole me being all procrastinatory and not writing the Stalker. But whatever. I can do that. Er. Now, I guess.j
BUT FIRST OMG! I'm going to post all the chapters of The Stalker over the next few days, because then, people on LiveJournal can bug me too. And maybe it'll actually get written one of these days.
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The Stalker
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One day, amidst a horrible storm, a baby was born. Now, this baby was not any of the characters you may or may not be familiar with, because it's just something that has absolutely nothing to do with the real story.
The real story takes place one fine summer day during a drought. In this particularly hot and dry summer, a girl decided that she should take to stalking someone in her small neighborhood of Lyon Heights in her small town of Little Whinging in her not-so small country of England. Now, when this girl decided to stalk someone, she decided to do it blatantly and obviously, meaning that no-one would notice, because she lived in a neighborhood of Muggles, and everyone knows that Muggles pay absolutely horrid attention and "never notice nuffink". I can only hope, for your sake, that you do know what a Muggle is, because if you don't, I may well kill you for your lack of Canon knowledge, only not, because that would tip off the government as to where my location is. Ahem, anyway, you may wonder what the hell this girl was doing in Little Whinging if she knows what Muggles are. As you should know if you are an obsessive fan, a Ministry official clearly states that no other witches or wizards live in Little Whinging. Well, as this girl would most assuredly tell you, people say all sorts of things when they think you're not listening, and this girl was a very good listener.
Now, as I can tell that you're getting faintly annoyed at me continuously referring to the girl this story is about as "this girl", I'm going to tell you a little about her. So, you will now find out, among other things, her name, so that I can stop the annoying habit of calling this girl "this girl". This girl was a rather tall, with long legs, girl. Her muddy-brown eyes had a sort of look that gave people the impression that she was mentally unstable. Her board-straight reddish-brown hair came down past her shoulders, ending about a quarter of the way down her back. She had the unnerving habit of having short, blond eyelashes, which really isn't a habit at all, and more of a physical trait. This rather odd, deranged-looking girl wore very normal clothes for her age, solid colored t-shirts in normal colors and blue jeans in varying degrees of barely-fitting bagginess. This girl, as you have probably already inferred, has a name. This name of hers, that you all must be terribly anxious about, is an oddly normal name. It's Monica. That's right, this girl's name is Monica. Don't blame me, blame her parents.
Anyway, Monica had decided the previous summer to stalk someone over the next summer vacation. You see, what with the drought and all, Monica had gotten very bored. So, she had decided to entertain herself. Unfortunately for an unlucky boy, her idea of entertainment was stalking someone. Three guesses for what unlucky boy I'm talking about….
Harry Potter, a scrawny beanpole of a boy with messy jet-black hair and eyes as green as a fresh pickled toad, lie on his bed, hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling of his small bedroom at Number Four, Privet Drive. You all know the story, I'm not about to relate it. He had no idea that, at this very moment, a girl who looked like an asylum resident was deciding to stalk him.
In fact, Monica was, at that moment, hidden in the leaves of the willow tree in the front yard, looking at him, or the only part of him she could see, the knee that was bent as he lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, etc., etc.
Now, because Monica had decided to stalk him as blatantly and obviously as possible, none of the residents of Privet Drive even noticed that a deranged-looking girl was sitting in the willow tree in the Dursley's front yard, nor that she was blatantly and obviously stalking the dangerous Potter boy.
You may ask, what the crap is Monica doing, stalking the publicly known dangerous boy in the neighborhood. Well, as with the whole Muggle issue, Monica had listened very carefully to all the gossip and people that she might stalk. From the talk she'd heard (and the eaves she'd dropped) she'd determined that not only was he not dangerous, he would be the most interesting to stalk, and he'd be the most fun to stalk and/or freak out.
Well, Harry Potter was also a wizard, but one: you already knew that, and two: Monica did not know that, so it hadn't influenced her decision and was a completely superfluous thing for me to mention. (look it up)
Monica settled into her treetop seat. Judging form how much he'd moved in the past half hour, she was going to be there a while before he did anything worth watching.
So anyway. Less than a week till I move! Less than two days until Charlie and the Chocolate Factory comes out (IMAX here I come!)! Less than three days until HBP comes out! Is it just me, or is this the best week ever?
You know, except for the whole me being all procrastinatory and not writing the Stalker. But whatever. I can do that. Er. Now, I guess.j
BUT FIRST OMG! I'm going to post all the chapters of The Stalker over the next few days, because then, people on LiveJournal can bug me too. And maybe it'll actually get written one of these days.
-------------------------------------------------
The Stalker
-------------------------------------------------
One day, amidst a horrible storm, a baby was born. Now, this baby was not any of the characters you may or may not be familiar with, because it's just something that has absolutely nothing to do with the real story.
The real story takes place one fine summer day during a drought. In this particularly hot and dry summer, a girl decided that she should take to stalking someone in her small neighborhood of Lyon Heights in her small town of Little Whinging in her not-so small country of England. Now, when this girl decided to stalk someone, she decided to do it blatantly and obviously, meaning that no-one would notice, because she lived in a neighborhood of Muggles, and everyone knows that Muggles pay absolutely horrid attention and "never notice nuffink". I can only hope, for your sake, that you do know what a Muggle is, because if you don't, I may well kill you for your lack of Canon knowledge, only not, because that would tip off the government as to where my location is. Ahem, anyway, you may wonder what the hell this girl was doing in Little Whinging if she knows what Muggles are. As you should know if you are an obsessive fan, a Ministry official clearly states that no other witches or wizards live in Little Whinging. Well, as this girl would most assuredly tell you, people say all sorts of things when they think you're not listening, and this girl was a very good listener.
Now, as I can tell that you're getting faintly annoyed at me continuously referring to the girl this story is about as "this girl", I'm going to tell you a little about her. So, you will now find out, among other things, her name, so that I can stop the annoying habit of calling this girl "this girl". This girl was a rather tall, with long legs, girl. Her muddy-brown eyes had a sort of look that gave people the impression that she was mentally unstable. Her board-straight reddish-brown hair came down past her shoulders, ending about a quarter of the way down her back. She had the unnerving habit of having short, blond eyelashes, which really isn't a habit at all, and more of a physical trait. This rather odd, deranged-looking girl wore very normal clothes for her age, solid colored t-shirts in normal colors and blue jeans in varying degrees of barely-fitting bagginess. This girl, as you have probably already inferred, has a name. This name of hers, that you all must be terribly anxious about, is an oddly normal name. It's Monica. That's right, this girl's name is Monica. Don't blame me, blame her parents.
Anyway, Monica had decided the previous summer to stalk someone over the next summer vacation. You see, what with the drought and all, Monica had gotten very bored. So, she had decided to entertain herself. Unfortunately for an unlucky boy, her idea of entertainment was stalking someone. Three guesses for what unlucky boy I'm talking about….
Harry Potter, a scrawny beanpole of a boy with messy jet-black hair and eyes as green as a fresh pickled toad, lie on his bed, hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling of his small bedroom at Number Four, Privet Drive. You all know the story, I'm not about to relate it. He had no idea that, at this very moment, a girl who looked like an asylum resident was deciding to stalk him.
In fact, Monica was, at that moment, hidden in the leaves of the willow tree in the front yard, looking at him, or the only part of him she could see, the knee that was bent as he lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, etc., etc.
Now, because Monica had decided to stalk him as blatantly and obviously as possible, none of the residents of Privet Drive even noticed that a deranged-looking girl was sitting in the willow tree in the Dursley's front yard, nor that she was blatantly and obviously stalking the dangerous Potter boy.
You may ask, what the crap is Monica doing, stalking the publicly known dangerous boy in the neighborhood. Well, as with the whole Muggle issue, Monica had listened very carefully to all the gossip and people that she might stalk. From the talk she'd heard (and the eaves she'd dropped) she'd determined that not only was he not dangerous, he would be the most interesting to stalk, and he'd be the most fun to stalk and/or freak out.
Well, Harry Potter was also a wizard, but one: you already knew that, and two: Monica did not know that, so it hadn't influenced her decision and was a completely superfluous thing for me to mention. (look it up)
Monica settled into her treetop seat. Judging form how much he'd moved in the past half hour, she was going to be there a while before he did anything worth watching.
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no subject
Date: 2005-07-14 05:06 am (UTC)THERE MUST BE MORE, I DEMAND IT.
...anyway. I really like it!
no subject
Date: 2005-07-14 03:47 pm (UTC)and just think, this is almost as completely unedited as that monstrosity with Noelle and Sunny!no subject
Date: 2005-07-21 02:21 am (UTC)