Dear Future Husband,

How are you doing? I do hope I like you. My curiosity (or is it fear?) is eating me up. I want to know how we met!

Did we collide into each other, me dropping my books like the flustered angel that I am, and your hand brushed mine as you helped me pick them up?
Or did we share an umbrella in the rain, the proximity of our bodies creating more lightning than the storm above our heads?

Neither, I hope.

You see, future husband, I have a problem. I hate perfect love, and I hope you're nothing like the perfect boys I see on TV. I want you to be as normal as possible. In fact, when we meet, please don't bother doing your hair ( I won't). When we collide, laugh at me for being clumsy because I was probably reading when I so rudely became the prow of the boat to your Ursula's chest. Then, proceed to hold my page for me, so that I can pick up my books, because you udnerstand perfectly well that no girl (or boy) needs help picking up a couple books (or maybe this time I was smart enough to use that extraordinary invention called a backpack?!). Anyways, comment on the book I'm reading and ask about it, then proceed to sit down with me at the table and prevent me from reading. I will certainly be unpleasant and may make many subtle comments about how I would prefer to be alone and reading, but you will already have found out that pestering me is something you enjoy, so you will cheerfully ignore anything I say.

Next, I hope, we do not have instant crushes on each other. I hope to like you as a human from the very start, but please, do not expect me to swoon into your arms at first try. Hopefully, maybe by the times we've known each other well enough to exasperate the living hell out each other, I'll begin to notice I like hugging you. You'll begin to like hanging out, just the two of us. Slowly, we get comfortable with the idea of liking each other, and maybe I'll tell you that I have never kissed anyone, and you'll laugh and call me lame. Promise me you'll do it, or I'll be too embarrassed to ever show my face to you again. Admitting is not something I easily do. I need my back-up comic relief when I am not capable of making my own particular brand of punny jokes.

Then maybe the first time we'll kiss you'll call me inexperienced. And laugh. Make me laugh a lot or I won't even think of marrying you. And be prepared to live with a bunch of dogs once you complete that requirement. You'll be feeding and walking them, while I get to pet them and witness clever tricks (you'll be in charge of those too, oh we're going to have so much fun!). We're an equal opportunity kind of couple. Or rather, we will be.

And going on dates. Right.
I'm promising you, our first date will be hell. I'll probably think up something really romantic like wall climbing, and in the middle, I'll faint from my undefeatable fear of heights, but you'll catch me. And then I'll yell "Just kidding!" in your face, cleverly untangle my harness and rope from yours, and monkey up the rocks while you hang suspended (and dumbfounded) in midair. Ha.
Just kidding. I'm really bad at wall climbing.
WAIT. Maybe our first date will be one of those typical dinner date things. Or going to the movies?
I'm crossing my fingers, because if you take me to an Avengers movie, I swear to God, you will be the last boy who I'll be looking at in that theatre. And you better agree with me that everything Nick Fury says is to be followed by either "Nick Fury is a religion" or simple admiration with the phrase "Oooooooh!" Otherwise bye.

Oh, and when you propose to me, please don't write a speech. Please don't tell me your life changed after you met me, because the only life changing thing I made you do was switch to NickFury-ism, the greatest religion of them all. And maybe I did encourage you to get a tumblr account, which might have led to your higher procrastination levels. Okay, don't mention that when you propose to me. I'll say no out of consideration for you.
Convince me. 
I already know you're great. That's probably why I let you in this far. I don't do that with many people. Convince me that I'm worth marrying. Make me laugh (I have a bad sense of humour so this part's easy). This is why I asked you to leave out anything that I worsened for you in life. You already know that I'm too shy to even ask someone to close the window if it means that it might inconvenience them. I wouldn't even let you tie my shoelace when I broke my hand. I honestly don't think I'm worth it. Please, go make me look in the mirror at that face of mine, and tell me that behind it lies the most superlative person you've ever known. Don't tell me I'm pretty, because I'm tired of people who think that's the one thing a girl wants to hear. But you already know that. So you 'll call me lame, with a dash of poor humour and nerdy, all of the things I really am, and you will tell me that it's worth knowing.

Dear future husband, whoever you are, thank you for coming this far with me. I probably love you, and have a harder time saying that than I should. Just kidding! I shower for your sake, so you should know that I am already putting 100% more effort than I did for anyone else.

Long live Nick Fury,
you-remember-your-wife's-name-so-yeah-hey-it's-me

Hi guys!

I'm here to tell you: thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you so much!
In case you guys didn't infer from the title, my blog hit 1006 subscribers at around 11am today (April 23).

I know that 1,000 isn't a big number, but for a new blogger like me, it's a big deal! I'm so happy!
So now, it's time for the usual cheesy dedications!

Firstly, this achievement goes to my friends Firescales and That Weird Girl at http://fictionallitostandaleatory.blogspot.com.br/ who inspired me to start writing a blog. If it hadn't been for you guys, I wouldn't even have realized that 1006 was an important number for me, and that people care enough to read something a silly 15 year old lke me has to say. Thank you.

Secondly, to my crazy second family (you know who you are), thank you. Moving from the Philippines to Brazil can really give someone a writers block, but you guys put me through. You might be the only reason I survived this year. I love you, and you mean tons to me.

Thirdly, to the people in Brazil (you won't be reading this, but) I want to thank you for the tons of comic relief, and for accepting a random weirdo into your group, and making me feel like one of your own. You're the only reason I feel welcomed in Brazil. :)

And lastly, to you who reads!! I know that some of the people mentioned before have been forced into reading my blog tons of time, but I know that random people from Ireland, Germany and France are paying attention to outlandish me. YOU THERE! Thank you! You guys are the most important people in this process, and it would be kinda impossible to have 1000 views without you guys.

So you guys, thank you for keeping this featherpaw'd awkward giraffe's dream alive.
You guys inspire me to write more.

Have a day,
FeatherPaw.

Hey guys!

I was walking my dog just now, and thinking about this tumblr post http://pizza.tumblr.com/post/83215322972, which basically says "what so you call someone who's obsessed with the moon - a lunatic"

What a great pun! But basically, it made me poetify it, and now I have a pretty poet-let in my head, and I can't stop singing it in my head. And I can't help but think there are so many little "wayward thoughts" floating aronud in my head that I'd really like to share with people, but I never get to. So why not make a section about it? (Hahaah. Exploiting lack of skills)

So here's the one wayward thought I came up with today:

"But darling how to make you swoon?

   Because all I see are stars
   and you're a lunatic in love with the moon."


And something I have written down from a few days ago:
(Bear in mind, anything written here could be a poem or a little undeveloped thought paragraph. Sorry!)

"I crumpled up the papers because I thought I couldn't write poetry. But when I held them again in my

hands, ready to throw them away, I felt the anger and sadness in those pages, and that was a moment of

fire, of frustration, and of everything I'd ever failed to be. Locked in those pages were memories, dark

thoughts swirling like a slushie gone wrong. And then I learned something. In destroying, I had created."

Heyy guys! How's it going? What's cookin' good lookin'? (Again: you're complimented if you read my blog (shameless promotion, I know))

I wanted to talk about something important today: body types.
And more importantly, thin people. Let me make this clear: thin/fat/pudgy/normal/busty/WHATEVER.
It's really not that important. What's important is that we respect each, and understand that it's okay to be anything.
You don't have to be anything if it makes you unhappy.

But this is important to say: thin people.
All my life, I've been told crap things like "You need to gain weight!" or "You're too thin to be healthy!" or "Look at those boney arms, it's awful!" or some variation of either.
NO.

People have to understand, that ust as you cannot blatantly tell someone to lose weight, you cannot tell anyone to gain weight.
Being underweight and scrawny is NOT a blessing.
Telling me I'm a human stick won't make me smile. Comparing yourself to me is NOT how to make friends with me. Telling me I'm as light as a feather only makes me remember the dissatisfied clicks my doctor made every year as he filled up the height/weight index.
Being underweight is NOT a blessing.
It's hours of staring in the mirror, watching how your ribs show when yu inhale normally, wondering why you can't be as tall or as nice rounded off as everyone else.

Don't get me wrong though, it's not a curse either.
It's like all other body types: there are pros and cons to it!
But when you idolize it, or condone it, things become bad for the people living with it.

So here's my PSA (sort of, more like rant) It's like any other body type, and it's not a curse or a blessing. It's not something to be worshipped or glorified.

So please, stop treating it like either, and be comfortable with who you are. Concentrate on what makes you YOU. Make it about your opinions, about what makes you laugh, and how you're going to change the world. Not which dress you fit into.

You're amazing. Whichever way you are. It really doesn't matter.

Bye. <3