I'm really tired of thinking of something extremely witty, funny and/or sarcastic to write.

Well, I dunno.

My name is Georgia.

Georgia means 'farmer or earth worker'.

My mother didn't delve to deeply into meanings, I imagine.

Currently struggling through school and advanced english courses that are doing my head in.

I have a sister, who's finally finished her schooling and is hopefully getting her license.

I love 19th Century Romantics.

Reading is pretty much my oxygen.

I watch movies quite often. Too often in most people's opinions.

My favourite Authors (in the brackets you will find my favourite works by that author, or only):

Jane Austen (Pride and Prejudice and Persuasion), Lian Hearn (Tales of the Otori), JK Rowling (Uhm, do I need to say? Okay, Harry Potter), Eva Ibbitson (The Morning Gift), Jonathan Stroud (The Bartimaeus Trilogy), Charlotte Bronte (Jane Eyre), Sara Douglass (The Wayfarer Redemption or Axis Trilogy whichever you prefer), Rebecca Sparrow (Girl Most Likely), Richard Montari (Skin Gods, Play Dead), J R Tolkien (Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit), Charles Dickens (Nicholas Nickleby), Oscar Wilde (The Happy Prince and Other Stories, The Picture of Dorian Gray), Takashi Matsuoka (Cloud of Sparrows), Pamela Freeman, William Shakespeare (Macbeth and Much Ado About Nothing), Lewis Carroll (Jabberwocky) , Edgar Allen Poe (Annabel Lee), Kenneth Grahame (The Wind in the Willows), Bram Stoker (Dracula), Hilaire Belloc (Jim Who Ran Away From His Nurse And Was Eaten By A Lion), Edward Lear (The Jumblies and The Owl and the Pussycat) Tamora Pierce (Pretty much everything in Tortall but the Lioness books).

My favourite bands/singers are innumerable.

Twilight is the bane of my existence. It encourages Necrophilia, Pedophilia and bad writing. When Harry left Ginny for her own protection, she stole the sword of Gryffindor and kicked arse in the battle of Hogwarts. When Edward left Bella for her own protection, she was comatose.

It also proves that someone really does write bad fanfiction and gets it published. I live in hope.

Random Pieces Of thought:

I've been thinking a lot about maturity in romance, and I find teen romance to be somewhat lacking in this area. Now, those who can find some nice mature - not in a sexual way, mind - romances on here they think are worth a good review, whether it be yours or a friend's, please feel free to send me a message.

I don't mind being pestered. I may just pester you back.

Is it cheating on your boyfriend if you have a weird dream about your history teacher?

My Stories:

COMPLETED

3 Birthdays and a Funeral: Benjamin and Emily through the years at different stages of their lives. They grow up together, laugh together and cry together. Yes, it is the old best friend cliche - sorry. I usually don't do it, I'm all for new romance. But the fiction monkey had me by the brain banana.

Benjamin told me that when I sang my favourite songs on the radio I sounded like shit and told me that my boobs were too big and I was too tall even though he was taller. He threw a water bomb at me in the middle of winter and told me to stop talking so loudly. He also drew a picture of me in his art book and punched my ex-boyfriend when he made me cry.

Her once shiny black hair is dulled with grease and grime, her once vibrant grey eyes no longer shine with vitality and life and her face, once one of the most beautiful of her people, is broken. Her pointed nose sits a little less than straight, and her once soft, rose petal lips are cracked and bleeding.

Just sitting there with him in the airplane as he flicked through the pages of a Stephen King novel while she tried not to think about it by doodling on her napkin, because she knew if she thought about it too much, she’d do or say something stupid.

"Ms. French! I need you!"

“I’m off the clock now, Sir, leave me to hail my taxi in peace.”

"That’s not what I –"

“I believe that is your fiancé over there in the leopard print coat. She’s only been back four days. I wouldn’t want you to keep her waiting; you’ve obviously got so much to do.”

Shit! "Iris, please."

Tearfully. “Goodnight, Chairman.”

Straight-Jacket Feeling: Short little piece, more like a long free-verse poem, but I'm labeling it a bit of a drabble about a rape victim learning to love again after someone abusing her trust. I don't usually write these things, having no experience with rape and trauma, so I'm hoping not to offend and trying to express what I think I would feel in that situation.

I want to hold him.

I want...I want...

Peace.

Love.

Story-book romance.

But Sleeping Beauty didn’t have doctors prodding her in her Coma.

Cinderella didn’t have to work so hard to be acknowledged.

Snow White didn’t have to run away from the place she thought she was safe.

“I have never chose to be showered by wealth, yet it happened. I never asked to have such a person has you touch my life. Yet when I was seven years old, both of these were thrust upon me. Instead of learning to love my wealth, I learned to love you.”

You want him to what he used to be. You want him to paint a portrait of you, like the one he lavishes attention on. The painting of the girl with lace in her hair, which is the colour of gold, sitting on the moon. The painting of her blushing demurely behind a hand.

You’ve got long pale fingers, that flick through that morning’s newspaper languidly, and I see that you are moved by nearly every article, in the way you twist your mouth, or the way your eyes narrow. Your fingers wrap around the cup, as if you need the warmth to sink into your bones.

T.A.P: A lot or silliness on my Drama groups behalf. You seriously cannot explain it, only the acronym can say it: Tree and Animal Protection. A special unit out to save our environment with devastating results.

Boozy: Would you all please kindly SHUT UP?! (Boozy appears to be having a mental breakdown, and points to the silent henchman) GET ME SOME TEA! (Silent henchman goes to do that) Not you! Number one, MAKE ME SOME TEA!

Numero: Well, that could be problematic as I have my hands tied behind my back and-

(Mysterious Mr. M, Gretchen and Tap Boy burst in, looking extremely cool)

Gretchen: (rolls eyes and sighs) I knew you guys wouldn’t be able to pull this one off.