in the middle of a dark alley with me head in the clouds

Ellow!
It me, CC!
So Rosalie's been buggin' me 'bout postin' whatev so I did.
Just so happens that I'm tired and sleepy and I've got this crappy thing I need to do tomorrow.
*sigh*
I apologize for being away, I've been a secret waiting to be cracked these past few months but I just don't have enough time.
Life has been dull yet quite interesting in some points but more in others.
Cluless? good.
Confussion is the key.
"Baby, he'll take you there"
I just saw the banner of one of my mates on a site.. If you saw my face... you would've laughed your damn arse off.
I was litteraly gaspin' for air!
You may not know who or what I'm talkin' about but just gah.
Rosalie knows!
Panic at the disco baby, fo shizznit. For tix, I may have to sell navy, my electric guitar.
I don't know. It's not possible. Sure, I may be totally addicted to the back-up awesomeness of the dum-dee-dum-dum bass, but still, Navy's my first ever, technically mine guitar!
Ah well.
I've realized I've done a few cameos on a few TV shows, like the local news and an ep of a show on the TV. whatev, I didn't even know about it.
*Sigh.
So, please do do whatev and don't give a damn about what I say.
At this time, my mind is mush.

typin' soon...
CC
btw, I can talk IM now!! and I've got this totally cool american accent... listen..
"Hi"
see?? see??

Praise Be The Chimney Sweeps!

Bored. I am Bored. Well, what the fuck do I care that your bored?, you might say. Well, if I die of boredom, also know as "ennui", the people hired to investigate my death will see this post and probably blame the reader for not calling medical help for me when I announced I was bored than they will have to find out who read this blog first, travel halfway around the world to find said person, than send him/her to court, where he/she will testify that it was a completely ridiculous case and "How was I supposed to know she was dying of boredom?" than the exasperated judge will roll her eyes, bang the little hammer and mumble how aspirin is a big fat lie than say something like "Defendant not guilty" than the jury will be all relieved and go home sit on the couch and watch soap operas and/or sports games, but my parents will probably hire some assasin from whatever-that-place-is-called to kill the bloke who supposedly "killed me" and that pathetic bloke will have to hide the rest of his life under a new name, grow a beard, and get a beerbelly (if said person doesn't have one already). Now, why go through all that trouble?
Anyways, before my little prediction, I was saying I was bored. I am so bored I have watched season 1-5 of "Without A Trace" and am halfway done with "House". I am not a soap opera person. Eew. I am a music gal. You could say I am also a scientist. I experiment...with music. Sure, my experiments don't work out so well., My neighbor nearly made her weener bite my leg off when I was trying to make punk opera. (Don't ask)

life... is boring.

No, not really.

I'm just well, sad 'cause Rosalie left to go somewhere (nowhere I need to state)

So it's just me right now, me and juno and napoleon and charlie and leafy and beefy.

Just us.

The flat seems empty and quiet, no yelling and screaming and screaching happenin'

The Start of an Impasse.

Me first.
I'm Cyd Charisse. Call me Cyd
I'm a music addicted-hormonally imbalanced teen who's obsessed with the concept of revenge. Quite introverted yet at times extroverted. It depends on my mood swings.
Apple Pies= mucho loveness and shiz. I prefer Italian food to anything actually.
My Chemical Romance= My heroes. Diss them and you shall die/pay/be doomed to torture for the rest of your blogging days.
I'm quite artistic... not really. I just doodle and sketch and stuff.
Coffee is one of my few addictions. There's nothing like waking up in the morning and crossing over to Starbucks and grab a capuccino. Aside from coffee, I'm addicted to MuSiC, my life would be a meaningless hunk of junk if I'd never listened to 'Sweet child of mine' by Guns 'n Roses as a child. I respect and idolize Kurt Cobain (RIP) [not the drugs and suicide part].
I share my flat with Rosalie, her cat, Napoleon, my cat, Juno, my dog, Charlie and two turtles, Leafy and Beefy. Me and Rosalie are animal lovers, Vegetarians and We love mother earth. I would've been a hippy if I could've. (not the drugs and shagging part!)
I collect planners that only have doodles in them, I have lots of journals and I collect anything that has to do with JACK SKELLINGTON and THE NIGHTMARE BEFORE CHRISTMAS.
This is me, the random, bleached-blonde babe. Ewww. That was a joke. Sorry, it's the Britt humor I'm guessing. Ciao!

Me next.
Dude. Its a ritual. Don't ask.
Name's Rosalie. Nothin' more, Nothin' less. ;)
I'm addicted to various substances, (nothing illegal,mind you.) objects, and various things you might find either offensive or disturbing. (Nothing X-rated either)
I like Music. All of it. Except pop. Eew. Maybe pop rock or pop punk but pop pop....Eew.
People say I'm slightly off my rocker. I reply them with "Thank you for noticing."
Haha, don't get me wrong, I'm a nice, laid-back, guitarist kind a girl. I can't really describe myself that well though, 'cause I'm very complex...even for myself. Strange,aren't I?
I have one persian cat called Napoleon..and he's gay. I think the gay hairdresser he used to belong to had an effect on him. Don't ask. He wants to shag with every other male stray in town.
I'm obsessed about notebooks. I need notebooks! Dozens and dozens of crisp doodle-ready notebooks. But I'm a enviorment-friendly(I'm a vegan, cool eh?) kinda person, so sadly, I resist the urge to buy every notebook I lay my hands on. *tear*
Im kinda artistic..I draw a bit...write..do poetry...songwriting....guitar playin'...chocolate depression eatin'....the usual.
I love Emily the Strange. People say I'm exactly like her. I take that as a compliment.
I love vampires. And tea. Flavored,mostly. And candy floss. And Italy. And books. And guitars...Fender,preferably. I like alotta stuff. But I cannot contain them all in this blog box I'm afraid....
I live in a flat with my cousin Cyd, 'cause our parents are left us in the middle of the sahara desert and told us to buy water from the nearest convenience store. Naw, just messin' with ya. Our parents live in another country while we stay here to study. We wanna stay here actually, it isn't that bad. Life's good. Sorta. Our flat is a mix of a bloody mess and poetic structure with a hint of animal dung and tofee apples with stale muffins. Otherwise, quite perfect. My room looks more like a music studio mixed with a posh kind of graveyard (if possible) and a tornado storm while Cyd's looks more like a gallery complete with paint smudges on the wall and stains on the carpet and all that shiz.
Well thats me. Some of me anyway ;) Just so you know the writer of half these blogs. Good 'ole Rosalie, the crazy silent weirdo who plans world domination during math class. Yep. Good 'ole Rosalie.

Well, here we are. Cyd and Rosalie, partners-in-crime. If you finished through everything, that by golly good molly, you have no life! Kiddin'. But thanks... seriously(Rosalie said my 'thanks' didn't sound earnest enough).
xoxo