Hey everyone. So, I haven't posted for my other stories in a while...sorry about that. I have begun two new stories..I've already written, say, 70% of each. I posted them at the same time to see which catches more attention. I've done the normal romance, the hurt kind of romance (though no romance has occurred yet, but it will), and now I'm doing a celebrity mix with some humor and one with older, older not old lol, characters. I want to find out what your preferences are. =D

On another note, I can't think of a title for this...it's saved as Blue stapler on my computer. Yes, the story was thought up when I was sitting at my desk staring at my blue stapler.. I know where mine came from though (accidentally stole it from the school library about two years ago =O...) let me know what you think... if you really want to be helpful...read both 'My day of Happiness' and 'Blue stapler' ....It would give a girl peace of mind =)

I'm a stress eater. I eat when I'm stressed. I eat when I'm bored. I eat when I'm nervous. I'm not overweight though, that would only amount to more stress ergo more eating and result in more weight.

No, I just get fidgety and apparently repeatedly entering food into my mouth distracts me enough to think clearly without other thoughts invading my brain. Like an hour ago I was sitting at my desk, in my study, trying to think of a good storyline to go along with my newest idea but my fidgety hands found a blue stapler and began the fidgeting process; which inevitably led to the thinking process.

Where did I get this stapler? I don't remember buying it. I wonder how the inside of a stapler works. I seriously don't remember buying it. Was it a present? Mom could have bought me it. Did I steal it? I could have borrowed it from someone and forgot. Technically I don't think that's stealing. Not intentionally at least.

That's about when I gave up. I loved writing; I truly did; yet I found it frustrating that my best writing was unintentional and spontaneous. I could be in the middle of cooking dinner for my friends and BAM; a great idea springs to mind. It's kind of inconvenient that the only time in like a month where I've got the entire weekend free I can't seem to pull one decent sentence out of my pathetic excuse for a brain.

I was at a small café. It looked family run, not a big corporate kind of place; thank heavens. I abhor places like Starbucks and alike. Fair enough, who ever started those might have earned their success and good for them but it's because of them that small businesses are dying.

The plump, older, woman with a cutesy smile and silver ringlets for hair set down my order. Cookies and tea, I never was a fan of coffee.

"Here you are, miss." She said.

I said my thanks and went back to glaring at my work. I had asked if it would offend them if I did my work in here, the woman who served me said it was perfectly all right. They weren't terribly busy; only another two patrons inside and the odd in and out customer ever few minutes so it seemed an ideal place for me. I needed noise, but at a comfortable and not distracting level. I had everything I needed to write set up. I had a dictionary and thesaurus on my right side, a list of ideas and a baby names book to my left, my pens and pencils were out and my pad was ready. Everything was set except my state of mind. I needed a button to get into writing mode.

I had even gone as far as writing my name and date on the top right corner of the paper, middle name and everything. There it was, almost a mockery of my failure. Harper Penelope Ryan, Monday August 3rd, 2009. Then there was nothing; not one word was written underneath.

I started brainstorming. I had no clue what about though. So instead I just went through countless words in my head. Pretending I knew exactly what it meant I just wrote it all. Anything that pulsed through my head was written down, no matter how random or insignificant. I can't recall what but I'm about eighty percent sure I compared something to a caterpillar.

The noise in the café had picked up. I guessed it had become a little busier but I was too focused to take notice. A name, I would look for a name. Usually when you can put a name there you get a person, then a personality then a plot. Aha! I needed a name. I started at A then moved to B then C before I got fed up and skipped to R.

I was so enthralled by the names beginning with R that I failed to notice the person standing behind the chair across from me.

"This seat taken?" The person said.

I had my nose buried in the book. Today was my special time; I wasn't in the mood for a chat with a random guy. And on another note, the seat opposite me, at the table where I sat alone, was empty. My books and pens and cookies took up the remaining space on the table and they were all facing me. I think it was safe to say that the seat was not taken.

I pushed my glasses up the ridge of my nose; they had fallen down.

Squinting to read the finer print in the book I replied carelessly to the stranger.

"Obviously not."

"Great." He said, pulling out the chair with a load screech.

That annoyed me. Finally I lifted my head to see who was interrupting me. "Hey, that wasn't an invitation." When I saw him I almost laughed, and not because it was funny.

Living in California has its perks, and it also has a downside; celebrities. The idiots think they own the place. News flash; just because someone chases you around with camera's all day doesn't necessarily mean you're important. My mom goes nuts with cameras every time I see her. The woman loves capturing, quote unquote, tender moments, moments that she normally premeditates. But, you don't see me walking around and looking down my nose at normal, everyday people. Celebrities that like publicity are just attention seekers with a god complex.

Now I know this guy is an actor, and I know his first name is Taylor. How do I know that? It's pretty much general knowledge these days. I guess he's a good actor or something because he's pretty much a household name nowadays.

"Why are you looking at me like that? All I did was sit down." He said; flashing me what I'm guessing is his million-dollar smile. I could have sneered. Do you have any idea how absolutely correct that last statement is. Clearly the guy is only hired because he was blessed in the looks department. He hasn't got much going on upstairs.

"You're sitting at my table." I deadpanned.

"Your table?" He asked, amused.

I closed the book, placed it on the table and crossed my arms. "Yes, my table."

He tilted his head to the side just a little. I couldn't tell his motives but my god I would find out.

"Can't we share?"

Mimicking him, I tilted my head, all the while smiling sweetly. "I'm not that generous a person."

He laughed at that and I raised an eyebrow. Once he saw I wasn't playing he seemed to sober up.

"Okay, so there's someone at the table over in the other corner who I don't want to talk to. I might have used you as an excuse to get away from them."

I scoffed. "Well, now that's flattery."

He winced lightly at my tone and tried for a pleading smile. "Just think of it as a friendly chat with a stranger. As soon as she leaves I'll go." He vowed.

I re-opened the book to R. "Yeah see, I'm not really interested in a friendly chat. I'm kind of busy."

"Are you pregnant?"

"What?" I asked outraged. I looked down at my stomach. Did I look pregnant?

"You look- No. No! Not you look pregnant, it's- that! You're ready a book of baby names." He stuttered.

I glared at him.

"I don't think I like you very much." I stated.

He cracked a smile. "Really? I thought this was going pretty good."

I smiled a little at that, shaking my head. It was sort of funny.

"I think we started this wrong. I'm Taylor-" Wilson? No, Werner? "Weston."

Ah right, Weston. That was my next guess…

I sighed. "Harper Ryan."

Taylor's eyebrows furrowed in thought. "Harper Ryan… That sounds familiar."

Oh crap. That was something I didn't want to happen. Knowing celebrities is a sure fire way to get your name in the papers and magazines and on TV. There's a new scandal every week. I didn't know from experience and I wasn't at all interested in finding out either.

I shook my head, feigning no interest. "Yeah, it's not."

"Are you sure becau-"

Chances are I wouldn't meet Taylor again so I was safe but in need of a fast getaway.

"I'm sure. Look I have to go, somewhere…that isn't here." I said, lamely. I shoved all my books and pens into my messenger bag and mumble a good bye while snatching my last choc chip cookie.