Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Today I went to the much anticipated film with a few friends at the local, always clean, always classy, movie theatre. By a few friends I mean my 15 year old sister and two of her friends. But who's judging? And also, by always clean, always classy, I mean about 25 years old and disgusting. Anyways, at the end of the movie I found tears in my eyes. And I don't mean like a few tears making me a little misty eyed, I'm talking border line bawling. Right there. In the Little Theatre. With three 15-year olds. At the end of a rated-G movie. I honestly felt like what was left of my childhood was slipping away as (SPOILER ALERT) Andy played with Buzz, Woody, Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head and the rest of the game one last time before handing them over to some chick named Bonnie. SERIOUSLY ANDY???? I took Jack (my stuffed cat) to college with me!! How could you leave them behind? I'm going to go ahead and say I found water dripping down my cheeks because I was so angry at Andy. NOT because I felt sad and not because I know what going off to college and leaving your childhood possessions (and childhood) behind feels like. I feel seriously relieved that I still have all my stuffed animals and even brought my most prized one along for the ride with me. I probably would have felt like a terrible person if I hadn't done those things. I mean, not that I actually believe that my toys come alive as soon as I leave the room...... Point of the story: Toy Story 3 is not available in 3D at the Little Theatre. And that I can totally relate with the toys.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
A picture of the ENTIRE Speaks Club.This picture is evidence of a successful week at the beach. I appreciate all the prayers and support because thankfully, we all made it home in one piece. I would like to say that you probably have no idea how big of a feat it is to have captured a picture like this. For one, it's difficult to get that many people of such a range of ages in one place at one time let alone pose (for the most part) for the picture. I would also like to point out the men in the picture's choice of shirts. If you notice they are all wearing white polo-type shirts. This was almost not possible because someone in this picture packed a stained white t-shirt with a logo on it instead of his white polo shirt for the picture. Luckily, my grandfather happened to have packed more than one. I'll give you one guess as to who t-shirt bearing boy is. Hint: his collar has a sort of stripe on it. BINGO. T-shirt bearing boy is my dad. Oddly enough, I don't think anyone was that surprised by his misfortune.
CONGRATULATIONS SPEAKS FAMILY!!! we more or less now have a "portrait" of the entire fam. MAZELTOV.
Monday, June 14, 2010
All I want to know is why nobody has ever made me watch Pearl Harbor before. Saturday night, for the first time, I watched it after making caramel apples with my dear friend Ruthie. Yeah, you're right we really need to get our act together and stop being so wild. Here's the thing, I always felt a little bad for you know, America bombing Japan and all that, but I really don't feel that terrible about it now. In fact, it made want to go bomb those S.O.B.s myself and I'm not even down with the whole war thing at all. I'm just saying, if you ever had any doubts about America's retaliation after Pearl Harbor, you should definitely watch the movie.
Speaking of America.... USA vs. England on Saturday was spectacular. Just want to say I kind of feel a little bad for Robert Green. Had to be the most embarrassing or at least make the top 10 of embarrassing sports plays in the history of probably ever. Sorry dude, but you win some you lose some. Or you tie some you win some or lose some. Whatever, I'd rather have a tie then a loss.
I also found myself pulling for Ghana in the Ghana vs. Serbia game. So happy for Ghana aka the first team from Africa to win in World Cup history. YEAH TAKE THAT SERBIA. It really was a touching moment.
Well guys, it's about that time of year. And by time of year I mean time of year for the Speaks Family to go to the beach. And I don't mean just myself, bro, sis, mom, and dad, I mean the ENTIRE crew. I'll give a quick run down of the guest list complete with numbers:
1. Grandparents- Nana and PopPop (2)
2. My family- Me, Tripp, Maggie, Amy, and Robbie (5)
3. Speaks Clan Numero dos- Chris, Jan, Ansley, Drew, and the Twins (6)
4. Speaks Clan Numero tres- Michael, Kristi, Claire, and Wyatt (4)
5. Speaks Clan Numero cuatro- Stephen, Rebecca, Katherine, Connor, and Paul (5)
6. Speaks Clan Numero cinco- Stacey, Walter, Leila, Lizzie, Mac (5)
Making a grand total of... 27 freaking people.
Like, I'm pretty sure people think it's some church's annual daycare field trip to the beach. It's actually sort of embarrassing. Thankfully, everyone understands my issues with children so I don't have to play the role of nanny at any point. Thanks for understanding 26 other Speaks Club members. You guys are the best. It's sort of like you have to mentally prepare yourself to be around that many people for a whole week. I almost feel like I need another vacation to get over this week. Because I do so much anyways to need a vacation, but that's beside the point.
Basically, I'm asking for you to keep me in your prayers or thoughts or whatever you'd like for the next week. Knowing I have your support during this trying time means a lot.
See ya next Monday.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
At this very moment I find myself sitting in my den (a common area in my home where all essential items are located such as the computer and television) with my headphones in, my music turned up as loud as it will go to drown out my father's snoring. Don't worry though, I can still hear him loud and clear over the music. I don't know about you but I find snoring to be one of the most obnoxious sounds in the world. It's one of those noises where I feel my entire body tense up and my brain almost screams "GET ME AWAY FROM THIS NOISE!" everytime I heart it. I very much wish I could attach an audio clip of the noise emerging from my father. But does he realize the intense pain he is causing me? Of course not.
A few moments ago I was all like "Dad!!! You're snoring SO loud!!" And he was all like "Well I'm sorry but it's because we have cats and your mom almost burnt the house down today and that smell is really getting to me and I have no where else to go because your mother kicks me out of the bed because of my snoring and the smell of the burnt house is really strong on the couch upstairs because of all the fabric." Then he is all like snoring again.
I guess he does have a valid excuse with the close call of having an ash house instead of a brick house. I should probably fill that part of the story in.
Anyways the story begins when my mom arrives home from the beach today and goes to make sweet tea. To do this she must boil some tea bags in water on the stove. So she puts the tea bags and water on the stove then we leave to go to Quizno's for dinner and from Quizno's her and my sister leave for volleyball practice in Columbia while my dad, brother, and I head over to my grandparents. Well lucky for us my grandparents happen to be absent (not really sure where they are all the time because seriously the past couple of times I've tried to visit they've been absent). We proceed back to my house and open the door to find a very smoky house. My dad rushes up the stairs to see that the pot of boiling water/tea bags my mom has left is on fire. Now my house smells like a mixture of a burnt tea and a burnt tree house. And I'm accused of being irresponsible. WHO'S POINTING FINGERS NOW?
So here I am, friendless, on a Wednesday night sitting in a wonderfully scented house listening to the beautiful sounds of my dad snoring.
Good news though, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows now has a trailer released.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
There are times when I am just so amazingly proud of being from Camden that I can barely contain myself. These same instances I also find myself being insanely protective over the reasons that I'm proud of being from here. In the past these sorts of things have been high school sports events. These events range anywhere from 2001 when we won the state championship to my Senior year of high school when my soccer team beat Lugoff every single time we played them. I can't explain how great that felt and also how ready I was to whip anyone's tail who made some jealous slanderous comment about it.
More recently I've found myself being so freaking proud of Camden because of Vincent Sheheen. I also found myself being extremely protective over his campaign and the things people might say about it. Tonight for example, as I was purusing Facebook I stumbled across a series of statuses hinting that I was stupid for voting for Vincent and my favorite:
JOHN DOE is proud that she stayed true to her values and didn't jump on the bandwagon to vote for a democrat from her home town for governor. Vote for REPUBLICAN Nikki Haley in the run-offs!
There are a few things I found wrong about this quoted status. The first being this person is from Lugoff, South Carolina. Vincent is from CAMDEN, South Carolina. Therefore, you ma'am would not be voting for someone from your home town because you are not from Camden. Secondly, staying true to your values by voting for Nikki Haley? Are we thinking of the same Nikki Haley? If we are, then you my friend are saying that your values include supporting someone who is endorsing adultery. While these accusations of Nikki Haley could very well be false, the problem with your status is you are putting down all of those who expressed their freedom of vote because they didn't vote for the same person you did. The glaring problem with this status is simply using the word "republican" in all caps. Obviously, this is admittance that you chose to vote for her mainly because she is a REPUBLICAN first and foremost. Not because you held the same views or supported her platform, but because she is a republican.
Sidenote: I really should be an investigator of some sort because I'd say I'm pretty decent at detecting clues about people based on their writing.
Though you are exercising your freedom of speech you should not be putting others down for expressing theirs. I don't appreciate reading people's statuses and have them refer to me as being of a lower status just because I support someone else. I'm sure if I put my status as "Fraser Speaks is soooooooo freaking happy she chose to vote for someone who wasn't accused of adultery from someone in the same political party!! bAcKsTaBbErZ!! hehe"
Seriously, COME ON.
I voted for Vincent for a few reasons and none of them include because he and I share the same hometown. The reasons I cast my vote the way I did include (but aren't limited to):
1) His education plan. All three of his children are enrolled in public education. Being a product of the public education system and planning on teaching in it one day means that public education is pretty damn high on my priority list. He understands how desperately public schools need funding and that those enrolled in public education are those who need help the most. He also stands for "let teachers teach." Public educators have recently been forced to stick to standards. This is no way to actually educate. Frankly, it's boring and gets South Carolina no where in rank on the intelligence scale.
2) Vincent stands for not only helping South Carolina's jobs and economy but also doing so in a way that will help the environment.
3) Not once has Sheheen tried to mudsling or put another candidate down in either party as was seen in the Haley/Bauer fiasco. I don't know about you, but to me that says a whole lot. Someone who isn't trying to be involved in any sort of drama is someone that South Carolina needs. I'm sick of being spotlighted on CNN for pretty much being a skanky and stupid state. It's just getting embarassing. We couldn't even make it through the primaries without showing up on FOX National News because someone in the running was accused of cheating on her husband by someone in the SAME political party. That's just screaming bad news from the beginning.
Okay, those are just a few of the reasons. There are plenty more that I'm not going to post because I'm nearly positive you don't actually care.
Basically, the moral of this story is: it's okay to support your candidate via Facebook but don't put others down for who they support. It shouldn't be about parties, it should be about platforms.
I'd also like to apologize for this being a political post.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
In case you were wondering, it costs 25 bucks to renew your license.
Not only was I unaware of this fact today, I was also unaware that my license had expired in the first place.
So, on down to the DMV I frolicked with no cash in hand to get a new license.
Conversation at the counter goes as follows:
Mrs. DMV: "That will be 25 dollars."
Me: (pretends to open wallet knowing there's nothing in there) "Oh. Well. I actually don't seem to have cash on me. Can I bring it back later?"
Mrs. DMV: "No, we can't give you a license until you give us 25 dollars."
Me: "Well umm okay. Be right back."
Turns out they can't do IOUs there and you're not allowed to leave once you have turned your expired license in.
So there I was, approximately 3:05 pm at the DMV. Not legally able to leave the premises until I was able to get 25 doll hairs. Of course my first thought is "hey, maybe I should call one or both of my parents to see if they could bring it to me real quick." I decided to try that theory out.
Turns out it was an incorrect assumption because Robbie, warmly referred to on occasion by myself as Dad, was busy at the moment and couldn't be there until 4 pm which left me helpless, confused, and so very alone for about an hour. It was the same story with Mom.
That was when I decided I had a choice to make. I could either: a) stay put and try and work through the deep depression I was slowly sinking into caused from the abandonment by my parents or b) make a run for it and pray that they don't arrest me for intentionally driving without a license.
Of course, being the daredevil I am, I went with choice b.
So there I was. In a race against time and the police all for an expired license.
I would like to take a moment here to question as to why they don't send out reminders that your license is going to expire soon. Yes, I'm aware that the expiration date is clearly listed on the license, but who actually reads the information on the license besides law enforcement and people trying to memorize the information on their fake ID? And if they do send out reminders, I am obviously in the dark and it was more than likely sent to my house and my parents assumed that I already knew the information. Remember what assuming does to you and me....
Back to the story. There I was, a bandit on the loose. A criminal trying to make her life right again racing back to the place I sometimes call home. I speed as safely as I can (and by safely I mean avoiding cops) to the house. I dash from my car, sprinting with all my might to my door and who is walking out of the door? You've got it, the Jolly Green Giant himself. My dad.
In a still anxious race against the clock he throws me the bills and back to my car I sprint.
Mind you, it's about 105 degrees outside and humid. Welcome to the South.
As my daring dash continues on, I'm speeding down Broad Street. Passing cars left and right.
Slamming on breaks for the sneaky cops appearing out of nowhere (I passed 4 on the way back, they knew something was up). Finally I sprint back into the DMV praying that no one noticed I was gone. Confidently stroll up to the counter and hand over the 25 doll hairs. Lady gets me to sign some papers and tells me to walk over to the blue screen where my photograph will be made.
Since, I made it under the radar, I'm obviously feeling pretty good about myself. Therefore assuming that I look pretty good too. Also assuming my picture is going to look pretty good too. As she counts to 3 I flash what I'm so positive is a grammy winning glimmering smile.
(Remember what I said assuming does?)
Anyways, Mrs. DMV tells me to have a seat until my license is done printing. I wait probably around 2 minutes before I hear the magic word: "SPEAKS." and she hands my brand new, labored over, license to me.
As I look down at the picture (obviously the first thing I check on it) I realize that I was totally wrong about everything involving it. Not only do I not look pretty good in the photo, I look pretty bad. My hair is sticking out at weird angles, my face is flushed from running all over creation, and I seem to have developed a double chin of sorts. Also I should add that I look as pale as the linoleum floor I'm standing on.
Needless to say, I'm outraged. Not only did I exert effort in the summer heat, I also paid 25 bucks for probably the worst picture ever taken of me.
What I learned from this experience:
1) Don't renew your license. It leads to heartache and possibly arrests. And unattractive photos.
2) When I see yellow lights I don't slow down or speed up. I continue at my normal pace and don't usually stop. I find this weird. Which means it's probably extremely weird since most people don't think weird things they do are weird. So, if you think something about you is weird it probably is very abnormal.
3) Once I'm 21 I will probably still get denied at bars because the picture on my legitimate ID looks like I'm 13 years old. No one will believe it. I would probably be better off keeping a fake for the rest of my life.
PS- Andy Samberg if you're reading this, you're the only man I'll ever considering a marriage proposal from. I'm ready when you are.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
this is my 2nd post, I think it's high time I introduce something that has recently become a very prominent and important part of my life. It's provided entertainment and a sense of joy and contentment for those long, dark summer days when I have nowhere left to turn.
Now that I've successfully gained your interest and put you into suspense wondering what this wonderful, delightful thing could be, I will now tell you:
"Robot Unicorn?!?" you're probably thinking.
"Sounds so enlightening!"
Well my friend, it is.
Not only is there a killer background song (Always by Erasure), there are the most beautiful graphics. Who doesn't enjoy rainbows, unicorns, glittering stars, and cute little sparkling dolphins that gleefully sing and jump around occasionally with you? Only someone who is the absolute WORST wouldn't find some sort of enjoyment in the scene I've just described.
"Well how in the world do I play this game Fraser?" I'm sure you're asking.
And luckily for you, I have the answer.
It's quite simple really. It only involves using two keys (Z and X) which happen to conveniently be located right next to one another.
The point of the game is simple. There aren't levels or ways of beating the game, it's simply a competition with yourself for a high score (or if you have some competitors aka friends who also enjoy playing the game, it can be fun to compete with them for high scoring).
With each attempt at a high score, you, the unicorn, are given 3 wishes. These wishes could also be referred to as they are in other games as "lives."
Now that I'm sure you're dying to get your hands on this wonderful game I will present you with the link where your own adventures as a unicorn in this fantasy land can begin.
Before your adventure begins I will unselfishly give you a few tips:
1) try and get every miniature flying unicorn or fairy or whatever it is and every giant star because the more in a wrote you get, the higher their point worth becomes. (For example, the first time you dash at a giant star it is worth 100 points, the second one you dash consecutively is worth 200 points. If you miss the next one your point value restarts and the next one you dash is only worth 100 points again.)
2) the longer you go the faster the unicorn runs so it gets a little crazy when you're dashing at things at high speeds
3) DON'T run into the cliffs or you will lose a wish.
Monday, May 31, 2010
I'm trying out this whole "blogging" thing. Couldn't think of a clever "title" for my blog so I just went with my name. The whole pun on my last name since my last name is "Speaks," so it's like... Fraser speaks... and then what I'm speaking. Might be lame, but I didn't feel like putting too much effort in it. Anyways...
Interestingly enough I'm home for the summer. Actually, that's not interesting at all. Didn't realize this while I lived here you know, my entire life but Camden might possibly the most boring town for someone who comes home from college during the summers to live. If not THE most boring town, has to be in at least... I don't know... like the top 10 in America.
My days go as follows now:
11 am-12:30 pm: I awake
12:30-2ish pm: I mosey around the house alternating between the TV and the computer deciding whether I should shower or not and deciding which of my 2 friends to text to see what they're doing the remainder of the day.
2ish-9pm: possibly shower, sit some more at the computer, watch Law and Order (SVU is my favorite), probably convince my parents to take me somewhere for dinner, and repeat items 2 and 3 maybe 1 on the 2ish-9pm list.
9pm-3 am: this is the fun part because since I've done absolutely nothing during the day, I have used up no energy therefore I'm wired at the hours I should probably be drifting on off to sleep.(oh forgot to mention Photo Booth. I'll post a few examples below, including narration. It's a pretty good source of entertainment as long as you have friends with you. Otherwise, you're just sitting there taking picture of yourself. Not that there's anything wrong with that but... it just doesn't create the best image.)
This photo was taken with my brother, sister, and their friend. Notice how I said their friend. Not my friend in the picture. I lowered my standards in people I hang out with on the weekends because frankly, I don't really have much of a choice other than 15 and 16 year olds.
This picture is of what Callie and referred to as the "Robbie Sandwich." If you look closely enough you can see a man sitting between our hands. This man is Robbie and also my father.
I'm choosing not to narrate this photo because I really don't have an explanation behind it.
I just feel like this photo is an accurate image of Callie (on the left) and myself (on the right).
And last, but certainly not least I have an image of someone who takes a picture of themselves. Not sure what the motive is behind this. Narcissism? Self-esteem booster? Whatever the motive, this should be a warning to all those who not only take pictures of themselves via Photo Booth, but also leave them up so that any person using the computer is fair game to view them: