You've Got Male Models

A 20-year old prodigy heart surgeon, Chris Cahill, did not expect to share her apartment (or her life) with two aspiring male models when she finally gains her independence. A story in the process of their interesting (and equally hilarious!) adventures of three different individuals living in the present.


I write on a whim, and somewhere along the line, I have collected journals full of phrases and ideas that I use to spark a story. Got any ideas, feel free to share them. How would you interpret a JournalWord?


Gladiators, Bad-ass priests, Robots, Demons, Cowboys, Demon-Cowboys, Fast-food cashiers, Ninjas, Butlers, Pirates, Sailors... The list goes on and they all make me swoon! (We are instant best buddies if you feel the same, just saying)


Albeit reluctantly, Sarah finds herself with the responsibility of raising an angel after he crashes from the sky. Sci-fi, supernatural, and a little silly.


I'm a fiend. *cheeky smile*

Thursday, 28 November 2013

Howl Like An Abrupt Combustion

JournalWord: Combustion.


You spew, bubble, and steam.
Howling like an instant combustion.
These phases of matter I can't explain.

My dear, you're more complicated than my chemistry research.
Sweet angel, from all these reactants, which will bring about the desired reaction?

I'm mixing, measuring, calculating every equilibrium throughout the day.
With nothing that brings a balance for the nights.

A recipe of hush, lullabies, and rocking, perhaps?
Maybe a beaker of warm milk to soothe your teeth?
Baby girl, you're quite the simple little thing, but simply destructive to my sleep.


I think I'm going to revamp my original island story, "Fool's Paradise", into a more fleshed out tale with an actual consistent plot. But this will be a challenge as it is now summing up to be quite a novel in itself -.- I did not expect so much more ideas and plot twists from a simple theme! :D

Well, I'll be working on that, but 
keep cheery!

Friday, 22 November 2013

I'm learning a lot about myself and those that are important to me during these busy times.

Just a tiny subtle slice of a recent thought through a memorable life-shaking reassurance.


It's ten after two AM and I've caught the first snowflake of the season that has reached the valley.

If I hadn't watched it's silent decent onto my fingertip, I wouldn't have known it arrived. It left a fleeting kiss before it disappeared, and I'm certain I won't remember it. 

"Uncle! It's snowing!" And suddenly I'm nine years old and pointing out the obvious.

He smiles and shakes his head, and I know he's tired from working this late with me. "Now get on your way home," he urges, resting his crossed arms on the railing as I trudge towards my car. 

Its companions haven't even started to stick but I feel absolutely glorious under the streetlamps and vortex of cascading snow. They dance provocatively slow through the night sky, reflecting like faint stars.

He doesn't go back inside until my headlights are on and I've pulled out of his driveway. So this is why gentlemen are treasured, I remind myself. Something so small makes me feel so special.

My mind is still on overdrive and the world is so much brighter at night. I question whether it's just my contacts on fatigued eyes. Sometimes the lights glow mightier against a weaker vision.

I've learned so much during these late hours, possibly induced by the lack of sleep, but important in their reassurance. All these secrets are now open and I'm touched by being the recipient of this rare information. 

Confessions are relieving, not just to those that confess, but for those that listen, and I'm glad I could participate in both. 

The streets are so clear, not a car in sight, not a man or bike. All the lights are green on the main road and I feather the pedal excitedly.

Tonight is my night, this is my decision and I feel tremendously blessed.

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