Heading to Paree in a few hours.

I'll be blogging on rannaisinfrance.blogspot.com while I'm there.

:)

Packing Shmacking

You know what's annoying?  Packing.  Packing's annoying.  I don't enjoy packing--trying to fit the things I *need* into suitcases--making sure that the weight is under 51 pounds (that's not as easy as it may sound...although, when I write it out, it sure seems like a lot)--asking myself incessantly "do you want this, Ranna, or do you need this?"--convincing myself that that shirt that I always promise to wear, is not going to be worn, and then putting it back into my closet.
So, I start to pack, and then I end up just...not.  Finally just now, I think I finalized that I was for sure going to take, and so I'm about to start fitting everything into my suitcases (2).
OH, here's another thing.  Did you know that airlines charge for the second luggage now?  YEAH.  Yeah. How annoying is that?  50 dollars for a second luggage for international flights.  Monsieur Rene tells me they charge for the first luggage if it's domestic.  Um, excuse me, but why?  Well I mean, I know why if I think about it, but c'mon, that's so annoying!
Whatever, stop complaining, right?  Right.

You know what's funny?  The clothes that are left in my closet.  Those things that I didn't even bother to consider taking with myself.  And now I'm sitting here looking at the UGLY pink faux-cashmere sweater I bought at "New York and Company" five years ago (yeah...that just got more and more random as I kept explaining) and wondering why I don't give that sweater away.  You want it?

You know what this is?  This is me procrastinating.  This is me thinking about things that don't really matter, so I don't have to think about the two open suitcases in front of me.  Why don't I just do it?  I'm reading this book that says instead of not doing something, just do it.  Which, when I write it out like this, seems so easy, right?  But I find myself pushing things off until the very last second.  I don't know why I do it to myself, but I am the queen procrastinator.

I think I just gave myself the incentive I needed to start packing.  I just thought, "if I know it, then why don't I just try to fight it?"  And so now I'm going to fight it.  Ok.  Get ready.  Get set.  GO.

Coll-edge

I'm at George Mason with my sister today, it's Sally's first day at this school and I'm showing her the ropes. Driving to school I had to keep asking her, ARE YOU CONCENTRATING? Walking to her class too. Sal, are you concentrating? This is how you get to your class. This is how you get to Jazzmans.
Passing on the tricks I've learned along the way.

Anyway, now I'm just sitting on campus waiting for Sissy to get out of her class so we can go to her other class, and there is a line from Dewberry Hall past Jazzmans and it's all international students. Only, they're all Arabs and ITS THE MOST intriguing/annoying thing. Intriguing (that took me like 8 times to try to spell) because I just wonder where they're all from, what they're doing here, how they are feeling being in a new place. what are they doing at George Mason is the biggest question.
Annoying because I want to talk to them but im shyyyyyyyy.


Also, I'm restarting my rannaisinfrance.blogspot.com blog, and I want to give it a new look, so I'm trying to figure out the HTML coding so that I can fix it up a bit and it's just irritating. But I have all day, so I will triumph

What I want right now:

Tearjerkers

My Turn
-Titanic (can't help it)
-Toy Story 2 (when she's singing about the girl not loving her anymore. omg so sad)
-Love Actually
-Marley and Me
-Up (the beginning)
-Hotel Rwanda
-Into the Wild
-The Truman Show
-A Walk to Remember (sad, but true)
-Forrest Gump (Justin Timberlake is SO right. That part ALWAYS gets me. Also, the end, when he's sending him on the bus to go to school. soooo sad)
-The Stepmom
-ET
-Bogus
-Moulin Rouge
-Selena
-FOX AND THE HOUND
-The Color of Paradise
-La Vie en Rose
-My Girl (so right)
-The Freedom Writers
-Literally any movie where a mom or a dad dies and leaves the child orphaned and alone, I'll probably tear up

There are probably a dozen more, and Salma might be able to help me out more. What other movies?

the next minute some secretary’s running you over with a lawn mower

I was having an email conversation with my friend Michelle Spinei about this blogger  (click the link to go to her blog) today.  Her name is Tavi Gevinson and she's 13 years old.  HOWEVER, she's super uber dooper famous within the fashion community as being one of the leading fashion bloggers of our time.  She started her blog when she was 10 (I think) and since then has become this gigantic sensation.  Not only does she relay her thoughts about what is going on in the world of fashion, BUT she acts as muse to a plethora of fashion designers all over.  

I've been looking at her blog recently (last two days, but I came across it here and there before) and at first, apart from the fact that she's a 13 year old famous fashion blogger, I couldn't understand what made her so sensational.  But then I realized that what she does is pretty cool.  I mean, going through her blog up to like...September, I noticed that she puts up her inspirations, and from there comes up with her own style.  That's sort of cool, right?  Like, right now, she's inspired by Valley of the Dolls meets Drew Barrymore from Never Been Kissed.  And she puts together mood boards with pictures and knick knacks she finds in thrift stores to really bring her style together. 

While her style is strange (even for my standards) I think it's genius what she has managed to do and how she has managed to do it at such a young age.  

Michelle said that it takes dedication.  Tavi blogs every single day about different things.  If I want to be a world wide sensation, I have to do that too.  Although, looking back on my blogs, I remembered that it was exactly last year this time when I decided that my new years resolution was to become a famous blogger....oops.  Resolution, fail!  I should try to get that title in 2011.  

For now, here are some images that are inspiring me for my next photo shoot.  I just haven't chosen a model.  

Stay tuned for the actual photoshoot.  Although, I'm putting in a lot of thought for this one, so it might take a bit for it to get realized.  I'm shooting high :) 

Bellatrix and Narcissus

When Salma, my sister, and I were younger we would fight a lot.  I'm talking, hair pulling, pinching, shoving, the works.  She would twist her face into a terrifying monsteresque one and pinch me so hard that she shook.  And I would retaliate by attempting to do the same, but I used to (slash, still do sometimes) bite my nails, so I would never be able to really dig my fingernails into her skin, like she did to me.
Actually, one of my favorite stories to share is the one where I first show the two scars on my arm, and then tell people that, actually, it was Salma who did that to me...with her toenails.
Yes.  We were fighting on the bed one day, and she scratched me so hard with her toenails, that to this day I still have two scars on my arms.  Best day.
In her defense, one time, I took my jacket and I swung it at her with such force, and at such an angle, that the zipper cut into her forehead and blood started to gush out.  I'm pretty sure I thought I had just killed my sister when blood started to pour down her face.  But she didn't even need stitches.  And SHE doesn't have the scar...so besides the fact that I told you, there is no proof that such a thing ever happened.

Salma says that I spent my youth not physically abusing her, like she did to me, but emotionally abusing her with hurtful words.  But that's only because I honestly could not handle the beating up thing.  Whenever Salma would start to hit me or something, I'd start to run around the house, and she'd run after me.  But the situation would always be so funny that I would start to laugh hysterically, which made Salma even more upset and she would run even faster, prompting me to both run faster, and laugh harder.  Good times.

When we got older, our torture methods changed a little bit.  She would come into my room and refuse to get out.  So I would respond by going into her room and taking my pants off and threatening to rub my butt on her sheets.  But she would retaliate by pulling her own pants down and threatening to rub her butt on my bed.  But then we would realize that really there was no point to what we were doing because when it came down to it, we both were just standing in each others rooms with our pants half down, and our butts exposed.  So...that quickly turned old.  Although, I admit, that there have been times in the not so past that this has occurred again...

She also used to do this really annoying thing where she would come into my room and refuse to get out.  So I would try to push her out and she wouldn't move.  So then, I would start to scream "GET OUT OF MY ROOM!!!!" and she would say "ok ok but don't touch me."  But then, she would INCH her way out of the room, which made me even more mad because it took forever, so I would push her, and she would pretend that it was the strongest push, and she would RUN into the closest wall and start to scream, "MOMMMMMYYYYYY RANNNA JUST PUSHED ME INTO THE WALL!!!"  And I would scream back, "OH MY GOD MOM I DIDN'T EVEN PUSH HER THAT HARD SHE JUST RAN HERSELF INTO THE WALL!!!!" And she would laugh quietly while my mom would tell me that pushing is so dangerous what if Sal fell down the stairs...even if we were nowhere near the stairs.  It was (is) annoying

These days we don't fight very much.  In fact, our relationship has turned so smooth, that I do things to instigate fighting.  Just to keep things fresh.  For instance, I'll walk into her room and grab her Tweety.  And Sal is really sensitive when it comes to Tweety.  So that may start a brawl.  Or, the other day Salma was just sitting there minding her own business and I decided to keep pulling her hair.  And actually, she let me pull her hair a few times before she realized that, "wait a minute, Ranna is pulling my hair!"  And she responded by pulling my hair SO HARD.  It wasn't cool.

OR.  Sal made up this game where she pulls down my pants when I'm least expecting it.  And then we decided that we practice under the guidelines of just warfare, so we made up some rules.  1. You can't pull the other's pants down right after your pants have been pulled down 2. You can't pull the other's pants down if the other person is expecting it.
Only, I'm NEVER expecting it, and Salma is ALWAYS expecting it.  So whenever I even get close to her, even if Im not even thinking about pulling her pants down, she yells "I'M EXPECTING IT!  IM EXPECTING IT!"
The worst is when I'm going up the stairs, these days I literally have to RUN up the stairs, because I know if I don't, 100% Salma is going to be right behind me pulling my pants down.  So, I run up the stairs while simultaneously holding on to the waist of my pants so that even if she attempts to pull them down, she can't.
Whenever it happens, my mom makes a comment like, "girls this is so unladylike."  And then Sal and I both look at her like, who are we, Eliza Doolittle after Henry Higgins fixed her up?  Since when have we done anything that fit under the "ladylike" category?

Why did we (do we) fight?  I don't know, I guess it's a form of getting the other's attention.  Even if we're being annoying, at least we have contact with the other.  In its own way, fighting with each other brought us closer together, I suppose.

And in the end, sis is a cool sis.

My Boys Love 'Em Some Dessert