I bought the book Half the Sky: Turning Oppression into Opportunity for Women Worldwide by Nicholas D. Kristoff and Sheryl Wudunn. It's fantastic. It tells the tales of women and girls in the developing world who are given the worst lives imaginable and how the managed to save themselves from lives of slavery and abuse. It's really incredible and I'm loving it. It also talks about the current state of slavery today, which is now officially worse than it was in the 1800s and how more girls die each year because of sexual discrimination than all the men who have died in all the war battles in the 20th century. That's right people: Sexism is a greater killer than war. So for all of you ignorant, image-obsessed brats who say feminism is icky or no longer relevant, explain yourselves to Aisha Duhulow, Meena and Naina Hasina, Srey Rath, and all the women and girls each day who are killed, beaten, and sold into sex slavery because they are female. Explain why fighting for women's rights is "annoying."

 Anyone who want to get involved can got to http://www.halftheskymovement.org/ Go get the book. I'm serious. It might sound like, "oh it's a preachy, depressing book and I don't want to read it because it's just a bunch of stuff I've heard before about how all these people are dying and it's a big guilt trip" but it's not. It's an uplifting piece of literature and will have you glued to the pages. I was barely able to tear myself away from it to write this blog. 

XOXOXO

Wendy

It's a feature where we're going to give celebrities the last gifts they need. Miley Cyrus gets a camera phone, Carrie Prejeans get another mouth. Kanye gets a web cam. The Jonas brothers get chastity belts. It's a lot of fun. So come up with some ideas for me and I'll credit you!

XOXO Wendy

I'm trying, I really am, but I've got nothing. I used to be able to write with such passion and excitement over the things I though about. I used to be able to go on for hours. Afterwards, I would feel a great sense of accomplishment and enjoy interacting with others who shared my views and those who didn't. But the well has gone dry. I still care and think about things, but I can produce nothing from it.

I don't get it. How can a person go from being able to do something to having no ability whatsoever? I feel like something's been taken from me, like I've been robbed or handicapped in some way. Being on this site and writing my opinions used to be such a big part of my identity and now I've got nothing.

I want to come back! I want this back, what I had before. I want to be a part of buzznet again. I want to reclaim my place and role as a blogger on this site. I want the old me back. Not this uncreative, boring human being but me. I'm sick of being Wendy Weissman. I want to be Wendy Notsid again.

So I'm going to make a point of writing something, anything, in this journal every day, no matter how horrible and stupid it is. I'm going to write at least two paragraphs and I'm going to work at it. Maybe then I can get back in the swing of things, rediscover my place and reconnect with this site.

I love you all, you're all fantastic.

                It all started with Ringo.

                My name is Darcy Reagan and I’m an inventor, sorceress, and engineer. When I was twelve I laid out the plans for the Gryphon Travel Companion, a creation I have been working on ever since. My prototype, which I had affectionately named Ringo, is a mechanical lion with wings, an advanced navigation system, artificial intelligence, and high-beams for eyes. My invention could bring a person anywhere they want to go, morph into a cuddly-cub version of itself, and be kept as a pet. It could even protect its owner from harm. I had been working on Ringo for five years and was nearly finished. All that needed to be done was test Ringo’s navigation capabilities in a dark region.

                In addition to an inventor, I also happen to be minor, under the watch of two excellent guardians, Dr. Nerva and Mr. Sage. They had been my teachers since I was four and have had charge of me since I was eleven. They had been supportive and encouraging in my work with Ringo. What they were not so supportive of was me venturing into a dark region.

                “Absolutely not,” Dr. Nerva answered not a second after I gave the request one day before sleeping hours when the two of them usually read in the parlor. Her green eyes flashed with worry. “That is far too dangerous. I cannot believe you would even ask.”

                “It’s your own fault,” Mr. Sage said to Dr. Nerva, sitting in his favorite blue armchair. Most of the furniture in our house on MotherPearl Lake was either green, blue, brown or white. It was perfectly suited for the forest and lake setting. “You let her test Ringo’s fighting skills with real Fighter Droids and now she thinks she can do anything for that thing.”

                Dr. Nerva gaped at Mr. Sage. I didn’t blame her considering it was actually him that gave the go-ahead on that one (he couldn’t say no to me when I cried).

                I looked down at Ringo, who as usual was by my side. Ringo looked up at me. I had debated for three years whether I wanted my invention to talk, but had decided against it.  I hated robotic voices. At that moment though, I was regretting my decision. Another voice for my side would have been nice.

                “But the electromagnetic waves in dark regions are different than those in light regions! How can I be sure that the navigation system will work there if I don’t test it?”

                “I don’t know, but I do know you’re not going to Noxos. Do you know how dangerous dark regions are?  What would your mother think?” Mr. Sage said.

                I winced. I hated it whenever they mentioned my mother, my siblings, my father, or anything related to my family or life in Capis. My mother was Queen of Asterra, our entire world. I made a lousy princess, and I was always miserable when I visited my family back in Capis. I had been a constant disappointment to my mother from day one. Doing something like going into a dark region would appall her. Just like doing something like getting covered in grease working on the mechanics of a robotic beast appalled her. And staying up during sleeping hours to pour over schematics of said mechanical beast appalled her. And wearing black and navy appalled her. And being overweight and eating brownies appalled her. And everything else I did that appalled her. I think part of the reason she let me escape the life of royal scrutiny was so she wouldn’t have to be appalled every second of every day. I think one of the reasons I wanted to leave so badly was so that I didn’t feel like I was disappointing her with everything I did.

                “She doesn’t have to think anything. She doesn’t have to know. Just like how she doesn’t know about the Fighter Droids. Or the fact that I wear faux suede.”

                “Absolutely not.” Dr. Nerva said. “And don’t even try to argue with us. Because if you try anything, and that includes trying to take advantage of Mr. Sage’s weakness when he sees you cry, I will take serious action.”

                I could tell from the look on her face that she totally would. She would do something serious if I whined. Like making me clean the toilets every day for a week. Or worse, telling my Mom about the faux suede.

                “Okay,” all I could do was squeak in the face of such a glare. “I’m going to go to bed now.”

                I backed out of the room and went downstairs to my bedroom, Ringo following close behind.

                As freaked out as I was by that look Dr. Nerva gave me, I wasn’t going to let the two of them stop me. I waited until they both went to bed and ventured out with Ringo.

                Luckily, Ringo could fly the both of us across Phyllis, so we were at Noxos inside an hour.  Once we were there, I made her land so that we could leave tracks in the sand in case her system didn’t work and we needed to get home. I turned on her high-beam eyes and began traveling.

                I had her practice navigating in a few directions for a while, keeping track of her movements by compass and pulling my green wool coat tighter and tighter around me as I did. Dark regions were notoriously cold, Noxos especially.

                We were there about an hour, thankfully free from contact with Nightmares until we encountered something strange: lights.

                If I had been smarter, I would have avoided the lights and left immediately. After all, it could have been a den of criminals. But I wasn’t too smart that night, so I urged Ringo toward it. And as we came closer, we saw that it was a car with a Nightmare stalking towards it.

                Feeling gutsy, we charged toward it, me riding on Ringo’s back like a knight on his trusty steed. The thing took one look at us, saw that Ringo was twice its size, and ran off.

                It was then I realized someone was in the car. A young man was staring at us, looking petrified.

                He could have been a criminal, but something about his face told me he wasn’t. Call it a developing women’s intuition. I approached the car carefully, aware of how scared he must be of seeing Ringo. I could understand that. If you weren’t used to seeing her, she was quite a shock.

                “It’s okay,” I said. “We’re not going to hurt you.”

                “W-What the Hell is that thing?” He demanded, which I thought was rather rude. After all, we did just save his life.

                “That’s just my gryphon, Ringo. It’s okay, she’s mechanical and can’t hurt anyone unless they try to hurt me.”

                “Wh-Who are you?”

                “My name is Darcy Reagan.”

                It struck me then that something was different about him: there was no look of recognition on his face when he heard my name. I could understand him not recognizing me, sure. It was dark and at my last public appearance I was a lot shorter and fatter. But not knowing the name of your own princess? That was weird.

                “I’m not a criminal,” I added quickly. “You’re not either, right?”

                He shook his head and lowered the window. “My name is Adam Connors. My car swerved into the woods when I was driving on Maple Road. But—“ He looked around at everything the lights from his car and Ringo’s eyes touched. “This doesn’t look like Oakley Woods. Can you tell me where I am?”

                “You’re in Noxos, of course,” I said, feeling even more weirded out by this kid. “Are Oakley Woods part of Magnus?”

                “Magnus? What? What are you talking about?”

                “Well, this dark region is bordered by Phylliss, the Light Region where I live, and another light region, Magnus. Which are you from?”

                “Um, neither. I’m from Farmstead, Virginia.”

                I actually scratched my head at that one. “Where’s Virginia?”

                He looked at me like I had just asked him if he’d like to book a three night stay in a hotel inside my foot. “What do you mean, ‘Where’s Virginia?’? Virginia. As in the state.”

                “Look man, there are four states in all Asterra. There Magnus, Viola, Neos and Phylliss. Now which one of those are you from?”

                He rolled up the window and turned the key in the ignition. It wouldn’t start. He looked at me, terrified. And then it dawned on me.

                Asterra was a very special place. It was littered with gateways to other worlds. It was the only world to have more than one portal. We were the bridge between dimensions. This guy had to be from one of the other dimensions.

                “Are you a Visitor?” I asked.

                He didn’t answer me. He just started pinching himself.

                I spoke louder. “ARE YOU A VISITOR?”

                “DON’T COME NEAR ME!” He shouted back.

                I had never seen anyone look so distraught. And then I had another revelation. There could only be one reason why this guy was acting like this: he didn’t know about Asterra. He had come from an undiscovered world.

                I stared at him. “Oh crap.”

This place is called Asterra, it is my home. My name is Darcy Reagan and my story is about a boy from your world who stumbled into mine.

This is a really important issue that I hope a lot of people support. Pretending that there is something wrong with a type of love is not going to fix this country's problem, only make them worse.

My mom and Dad helped me with the sign. I think it's hilarious that my Dad was sanding my sign post and covering it with sponge and medical tape so I won't get splinters. While warning me that "lesbians will be looking" at me and that my classmates might think I'm gay. I'm not too worried about that. It's not like they'd be thinking anything bad about me. But anyways, my Dad's a sweetheart.

Hope to see some of you there!

It’s just a passing glance

Not so much pretty

As a partner for his dance

Our laughter is music

But only when we’re young

Then it becomes ironic

Later we are hung

We have to do this and that

To be pretty a little longer

But you still end up cracked

And then boom! You’re a goner

We’re only pretty for a little while

And I know that now

Though that while is still going

So I have to wonder how

I was pretty for a little while

But on the seventh day I rested

So I showed my true face

And that boy was tested

I was so greatly dismayed

Then I finally got to see

This world I had created

Wasn’t all there was to me

So I was pretty for a little while

And my time is almost up

But no matter how ugly it makes me

I will never shut up

So I've been watching a lot of Star Trek lately and I've been wondering why.

Don't get me wrong, Star Trek was a great show. So was The Next Generation, Deep Space Nine, and Voyager, which I've also been watching. I've been watching various Star Trek shows all summer ever since the movie came out. I imagine that's what triggered the fascination with Star Trek. But it got me wondering...

Are most people inspired to pursue something when a movie about it comes out. Are they more likely to read a book if a show or movie about it comes out? Or watch a show if a movie version comes out? And why?

Were some kids encouraged to dust off their parents' Beatles albums when Across the Universe came out? Did anyone go out and pick up some books in Charlaine Harris' Sookie Stackhouse novels when True Blood premiered? Did anybody else, like me, go and watch a bunch of Star Trek this summer because of the movie?

What is it about movies and TV that makes us so prone to explore things like this? Are things simply easier to relate to once you've seen a visual representation of it? Or is it just a hot guy/girl that excites your interest and you want to read/see/hear more so you can fantasize about them in a different setting?

Thoughts?

Or is this too little too late and I've alienated all my friends on here by my long absence?