#Deciding to do this as journal entries before getting into the more juicy stuff

[abrahamvanhellsingjournal]

Entry one: Date November 8th 1898

We finally managed to defeat Dracula yesterday and he is within my custody. It was not without loss of life as our dear friend and comrade, Quincey Morris was killed by the demon. However, his death was not in vain as ultimately we did succeed, though killing the creature has proven difficult.

Jonathan wanted to use his Kukri upon the bastard, but I stopped him from doing so, and told him that I will do my utmost to study the creature to find a way to kill it for good. Ms. Harker, on other hand, seems to be fine, and the foul taint of Dracula has receded as far as I have been able to deduce from examinations of the woman. Jonathan seems to think otherwise, and claims that his wife sometimes has odd cravings. These are likely to be nothing more than the typical strange hormonal changes a woman goes through and nothing more.

On the other hand, I find myself wondering if Dracula cannot be put to better use than to simply put him down. It seems to be what the creature ultimately wants after all, and it has asked me why I hesitate to kill it completely. Dracula claims to be the eldest and first of his kind, I imagine his body could provide many answers about vampires and the disease known as Vampirism, and I plan on finding out exactly what that will be.

[slasherscream]

hear me out crazy ass boy gang with a s/o that writes them songs but has never shown them. randomly the guys find them knowing them some are gonna be insufferable with the amount of arrogance they now possess and some of them have no clue what to do with the concept of someone loving them and verbalizing it 🥺

A/N: oooh my gosh i'm obsessed with this concept

billy loomis: Was waiting for you to get back from school/work, and couldn’t keep his hands to himself. He wasn’t necessarily trying to find anything, but the book was on your desk- you were asking him to read it, at this point. He’s only halfheartedly looking until he realizes the words are lyrics. It doesn’t take a genius to realize the love songs are written with him in mind. At first it makes him smirk. But he can see the evolution of your relationship through the lyrics. General feelings of infatuation melting into the deeper connection of being in love with him, as opposed to being in love with love itself. It’s an ego boost, for sure. Mostly it’s a relief. Here are your feelings, written out on page, clear as day. Your every unfiltered thought. He doesn’t tell you he read the book. He just walks around with a knowing smirk on his face that you’re very suspicious of. You’re easily distracted from this onset of smugness by his sudden romantic nature. He’s never been a bad boyfriend, but he’s certainly never been so downright doting. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, you decide to just enjoy this random streak of tenderness.

josh washington: You two were moving in together and he was just trying to unpack some of your boxes for you. He’s honestly just setting up your desk for you. All the boxes are marked so that either one of you can unpack anything inside with at least a vague idea of where the stuff should go. Something about the unmarked notebook that doesn’t look like its for school makes him take a look inside. When he realizes how personal it is he wants to put it down. Then he spots his name... and well, he isn’t a saint.

He melts as he goes through the pages. He knows the two of you love each other. You have to love each other, with all the bullshit you’ve been through. But he knows it’s not easy to be with him. Sometimes he worries that you’ll wake up one day and be done with him. Be done with all the problems that come with being with him. He wouldn’t blame you but the thought leaves him hollow. He doesn’t know what he’d do without you. He doesn’t know if he could handle you being gone. You love him though. It’s inked into the pages. Some songs written out slow and careful, and others written out sloppy and fast, like you had to get all the feeling out of your chest because it hurt to have it all trapped inside. You’ll walk in carrying takeout and find Josh crying. You nearly drop the food to run and comfort him. When he tells you what’s wrong - or really, what isn’t wrong, you won’t even have the heart to be angry. He looks somewhere between overwhelmed and awe. All he can think to do is pull you into his arms. He holds you so tightly you wonder if he’s afraid someone will come and take you away.

stu macher: He was just going through your stuff because he was bored, honestly. He wasn’t expecting to find anything juicy. The minute he realizes he’s holding onto a notebook full of songs he’s giddy. It’s practically a diary! You'll come into your bedroom and see him poring over your words without shame. He won’t even have the decency to stop. “Hey babe!”, will be his absentminded greeting as his eyes stay glued to a far-too-familiar book. You’ll have to literally snatch it from him. “Didn’t know you felt this way about me.” His teasing will be relentless. You’ll have to threaten to break up with him, and give him a bit of the silent treatment too. Eventually he’ll ease up on you, his grin going soft around the edges. “You should show me them on your own next time. Else I’ll have to go hunting for ‘em.” It’s not an idle threat. Now that he knows the book exists he’ll really tear up your entire house looking for it. Don’t bother trying to hide it. It won’t be worth the headache. 

jd: His first instinct is to become insufferable. As he reads more of your lyrics, he starts getting overwhelmed. Even as he holds the proof in his hands, he can barely wrap his head around you feeling so strongly about him. He traces over your handwriting and relishes every word. You'll catch him in the act but you won't have the chance to get angry. He kisses you like a man starved. Whispers every thought of love he's ever had against your lips, uncaring if he sounds obsessed. He was allowed a glimpse at your soul. It's only fair that he bares his in return.

kevin khatchadourian: Honestly was indifferent at first. He was going through your things because ‘why shouldn't he?‘ when he found all the songs. Page after page he reads. Slowly but surely it starts to get to him. The only person who's ever loved him is his father, and that love is built upon an endless tapestry of falsehoods and manipulation. His father loves someone who doesn't exist. His mother knows him, always has, but she despises him. Celia loves him, but it's pathetic. The hopeless and unthinking love of a dog. And now there's you. When he's with you he drops the act of normality he puts on for everyone else. You were around so constantly that he couldn't stomach wearing the mask 24/7. Beyond that though, there was something about you that made him want to show you everything. At first he thought he wanted to scare you. Now he doesn't know what he really wants from you.

As he reads through the pages he's sifting through your words, finding the deeper meanings. Watches as you stop writing about his mask, and start writing about him. Jagged and malicious and apathetic as he might be. You're infatuated          maybe you even love him. You've written out the words in a hundred different ways. He can see it every time you look at him, reach for him, follow him, talk to him. Reading it is different, somehow. You probably never wanted him to see these words. To know the depth of how you feel. You were probably afraid he'd mock you. A few months ago he would have. Now? He puts the book back, exactly where he found it.

He won't tell you about reading it, but the words are always on his mind. You'll think you misplaced the book one day and be beside yourself over losing it. Eventually you’ll find it again, out of the blue. Something is off about it though... but you’re not sure what. You’ll never know that what you have is a replica of the original book. A good replica, granted, but a replica nonetheless. Kevin thought about the songs too much, and committing them all to memory hadn’t scratched the itch. The constant cycle of the words running through his head. The irritation he’d feel when he forgot a part of a song, or mixed lyrics together. Having the book itself? It quieted his mind. He’s uncomfortable with the fact that he keeps it under his bed, tucked away inside a lock box, just so no one would be able to look at it. He’s never felt so protective over an item before. He tries not to think about it too much.

nathan prescott: He actually looked at your song book on accident. He needed to borrow some notes for a class and you told him he could just go to your room and grab them. He would never go searching for something like that. Saying he values his privacy would be an understatement, so he'd never disrespect yours. As soon as he realizes these are songs he wants to stop reading... but he's desperate to know what you think of him. People lie so easily, but here's a chance to see the raw truth of how you feel. He's terrified as he starts to read. Then he's just shocked. He'd hoped you weren't like everyone else around him. Wanting him to fail, to lose it, waiting for some sort of pay-off or trickle down. Even if you were, he wanted you so badly he was willing to have you any way you came, as long as you stayed. But here you are, your deepest feelings written out in ink, and you love him. You don't even pity him, you ache for him, want him. The next time he sees you he tells you he loves you for the first time. You'll never know that he read your songs, you'll only notice how much your relationship seemed to change over night.

sebastian valmont: Has to deflect. The only reason he’s being such an asshole about your songs is because he’s trying to deflect. He’s the only one here who has also written about you. Maybe not in lyrics, or in poetry, but he’s written about you. His diary is full of you. He started writing about you the moment he met you. Not unusual for him, considering absolutely everything is in his journals. But from the start there’s been something different about the entries that mention you. All his words suddenly become electric, leaping off the page. His descriptions of you, of the time you spent together, nearing obsessive in their detail. As if you were a puzzle he was trying to solve.

If there’s anything Sebastian is good at its manipulation. He knows he has you. He can have anyone, if he puts his mind to it. He’s made people fall in love with him before. There’s a long line of people who wants his head on a platter for that very reason. You’re the only prize that’s ever mattered, though. He has you now, sure. But what about tomorrow? Or the day after that? It’s easy for eyes to wander, for the heart to turn fickle. Sometimes he watches you and tries to imagine what you might want from him. Tries to figure out what he could do to keep you interested from moment to moment. If he ever shared his worries with you, his worries that you could just get bored with him and leave, just like that - you’d tell him you don’t want him to be anyone but himself. And Sebastian doesn’t want to be anyone but himself, he doesn’t. But people contain multitudes, are more than a single face. He’d rather be a version of himself that captivates you then a “true” version of himself that you can grow tired of.

But here’s written proof that you love him. As he is. All the long nights you’ve spent talking to one another, side by side. The conversations where you traded barbs and philosophy, and everything in-between. The dinners, and picnics, and phone calls, and rooftops. He was so busy observing you, and trying to create a version of himself that you could love, that he forgot that there was something real for you to fall for. Didn’t even know how much of himself he was earnestly offering to you. Now he can see it in ink, and it’s scary, even with how much he loves you, to realize how much of the real him you know.

So he’s an asshole for a few days. When you confront him he falls apart like a wet sandcastle. You won’t have time to get angry before he’s pushing his own journals into your hands. Sebastian has never played fair, but something about you seeing through him despite all his masks made him want to show you more. As scary as it had been, it was also a moment of pure connection. The most electric, addicting thing he’s ever felt. He wants to feel it over and over again.

[booksandeverything-in-between]

My journalism journey

... has only just begun! 

This is my post for the “Life Narrative” assignment for JTC 326. I’ve added a “keep reading” tab because I hate putting extremely long posts on my dashboard! Keep in mind too, I’ve formatted this to fit the platform, so it’s not strictly professional. 

Also  — this is the first time I’ve shared my Tumblr with anyone who is not my sister, but it’s the perfect platform for this. 

** All pictures were taken by me unless otherwise specified, some taken from my old blog posts on here. 

A note before I start: When I first thought about this assignment, I had so many things I thought I could share, a lot of them deeply personal, somewhat dark and just not the right fit. I had a bit of a crisis; I cried a little. There is so much in my past that makes me, me, that I’ve only ever really shared with my therapist, but have generally wanted to write about. But it’s hard, and I don’t know how. And a whole lot of other stuff. BUT THEN

I realized I could share a story that I have always wanted to share! It perfectly relates to our class too and basically everything anyone would ever need to know about me! It’s amazing! I’m so excited! I hope you like it! 

(line break) 

It’s the summer before sixth grade. That’s how I define, or sort, my life, in my memories. It’s the year of school, or it’s the summer before/after. It’s not my age, or the calendar year; it’s school. For a long time my whole identity revolved around school, so it fits. 

Anyway, I’m bored. My older sister and I can only do so much Netflix-watching (because we didn’t have cable) on the Wii (because this was 2011), and I need something to stimulate my active mind. Here comes books! 

I’ve always, always been an avid reader. I was the first person in my first grade class to start reading chapter books  — something I liked to brag about a lot back then. But I’m about to be a middle schooler, so I need to find something a little more mature. My parents decide that I’m at an appropriate age to start reading some of my sister’s old books, which were originally marked for garage sale. 

One of these books has a long, juicy title, with a teen girl posed on the cover in a preppy school uniform, hand on her hip. I don’t have to look this up to remember; it is forever in my mind. The book is I’d Tell You I Love You, But Then I’d Have to Kill You by Ally Carter. Juicy, right? AND I LOVE IT. Seriously. Love. It. 

Photo: I’d Tell You I Love You, But Then I’d Have to Kill You by Ally Carter. 

... And I guess I move on. That part is a little fuzzy. Enter: Back to School Night, sixth grade. I always would go with my mom, because I loved school, and nights like those I thought were super cool. So, I’m hanging out with my best friend Sydney by the stairs, and she has this book from the school library with her. 

Do you believe in fate? Was it kismet? I do not know; I will not guess. But I do know, I freaked the f*ck out. Because it was the book, by Ally Carter!! I loved that book! When I asked Sydney where she got it, she said in the library, and there were a bunch of other books like it. 

That made me pause. Honestly, I couldn’t believe it. Because, what do you know, it was a series!! There were three other books to be read! How, oh how, did I not know this? It had to be fate. 

I can still picture exactly where the books are, in the Preston library. The smaller shelf, up against the wall, right by the opening into the conference/meeting room space (I don’t know what we called that room???). Bottom shelf. 

Who knew a series about teenage girls going to a spy school would set me on this path? 

Suddenly it’s the summer after sixth grade, and once again, I’m bored. But, I have access to a netbook, that my grandpa gave us. Something entices me to start Googling these books. I find Ally Carter’s website. I found out that there are going to be two more books in the series. And I stumble upon this Google search suggestion, with the word fanfiction. 

And wow. 

Stories, countless stories, about my favorite books. Eventually, I make my own account on fanfiction.net, I try my hand at some of my own stories, I get a smartphone and make this very tumblr account when I turn 13, I find a place where I can express all my nerdiness in peace and all-caps, without any sort of ridicule fear. 

But that’s not the end, nor the point, of this story. 

Photo: The first four books in the Gallagher Girls series by Ally Carter. 

(line break) 

So here I am, spending all my free time secretly reading fanfic and trying to write it, and hating my life sometimes and thinking about what I want to study in college because that’s my best chance at escape from this life that I feel I’m stuck in. 

But I can’t think of anything to write! I love to read; I enjoy writing; I am learning more about grammar because my dad has me grading his grammar quizzes he gave his JTC 300 students; but still, something isn’t right. I viscerally hate English class. 

But! There’s a way I CAN write, without it being creative! My dad is going to school for photojournalism, my sister took a high school journalism class, and now it’s my turn to register for classes in high school. I sign up for Journalism 1, the precursor to Journalism 2, which is the class that houses the student newspaper. It’s a great plan. It was a good class.

I was looking through my old journal the other day, and I came across this line dated from September 23, 2014, just into the beginning of my freshman year of high school. “I want to be a journalist.” 

Photo: A journal entry that reads, “I want to be a journalist.” 

My sophomore year of high school, I take Journalism 2 and join the paper. I’m kind of terrified because there are a bunch of people I don’t know and now I’ll actually have to go out and report and talk to people ... but we do some really fun team-building, and people seem to like me, and I relax. I feel, just a little, like a really belong. 

And I had felt that way before, during band, and with some of my friends, but this thing, this journalism thing, I’m actually good at it. And there’s this one moment that sticks out to me still. 

It’s probably 7:20 a.m. I’m trudging up the steps to Spanish class, and I do not want to be there. It’s not that I don’t like school, or I don’t like my classes, because I do. But I’m tired, and it’s not what I want to be doing. I think, if I could spend the entirety of my day in my journalism class, I would be happy. 

To this day, as a college student, I am jealous of the people who get to spend their whole days doing journalism. 

I’ve found more than a home. I’ve found a place where, for what feels like the first time, I can speak my mind. I can be sarcastic, I can make a pun and I can also point out when there’s a bad typo somewhere and have that be appreciated. 

Halfway through my first year writing for the paper, I’m given extra responsibilities and get to start copy editing articles from the students in the J1 class, and I start to learn how to redesign/maintain our Wordpress site. I go on a class trip to Los Angeles, an amazing feat of independence for me, and I feel valued. And then, I’m award the position of Copy Editor for the next school year! It’s amazing. 

I learn my junior year that the freshmen whose articles I edited were afraid of me. Afraid, of me! (For reference, I am five feet tall). But once they met me, they were like ‘Woah, Serena’s not scary!” and now we’re good friends. I’ve since learned to be less harsh/blunt in my editing. 

My senior year, I was Editor-in-Chief. That was something I dreamed about as a freshman, but wouldn’t let myself actually fathom. And even though I felt like I could have done a much better job, and I had a lot of personal sh*t to do with too, by the end of the year, I knew that I was leaving behind a strong legacy. 

It’s really something special when people you love give you a speech, crying, telling you how much you welcomed them, how much you made them feel like they had a place to grow, to be, and how much you’ve inspired them. 

Because journalism, especially student journalism, is about so much more than the news. It’s about a community. It’s community with your fellow reporters and editors, it’s comradery while kicking ass, it’s creating a community with your readers and your peers, it’s learning about the community you live in and sharing the ups and downs of life. 

Photo: A screenshot from my Instagram account of my high school journalism family, taken at our end of the year picture my junior year of high school. We had this running joke that I was going to be a world-dominator type person (because I’m so tiny and quiet) and my teacher said, “Okay, Serena now push Katie over” because I was taking over as EIC. Photo credit goes to my teacher (not going to post his name here). 

(line break)  

I have a lot of setbacks, too. I have anxiety. Like, a lot. Of anxiety. I haven’t been formally diagnosed with General Anxiety Disorder, but I think I should be. 

I used to think I was just shy. And that was partially the case. But I grew from it, in large part because of journalism. I went from not sitting in my designated seat at the beginning of class because there were older kids in the way my freshman year, to leading the entire class three days a week my senior year. I liked high school journalism because I could get away with asking my friends for quotes, or just not really quoting anyone at all. 

I spent one quarter at the University of Denver last year, and it was somewhat the same thing. They didn’t have any strict standards on a number of sources, and I wrote articles that didn’t require speaking to a lot of people. But then, I took over nine months off from school in what should have been my freshman year of college, and thus took nine months off from journalism and reporting. So starting at The Collegian was a challenge. 

I am still damn proud of myself for getting up the courage, on the second day of classes at CSU, to go down to the newsroom and ask about reporting. I wouldn’t be where I am today if I didn’t, and I love where I am today. 

To think that wasn’t even a year ago ... 

Photo: Here I am, remote copy editing for The Collegian, the week after Spring Break. Photo cred to my dad. 

When I started at CSU, I felt good. I was nervous, but transferring was a really good decision, and I’m from Fort Collins, so I felt more comfortable. And at first, my reporting felt really good.

But then I got too stressed with school and work, and that stress led over to increases social anxiety when I was reporting. I went to this community meeting and tried to talk to people there, but I felt helpless and quiet and I left and cried to myself. I then conducted my interviews over the phone. 

I even had to take a break for a few months last semester, because I had a panic attack with the mere thought of approaching people I didn’t know. 

But I worked through it. Aided by Xanax and peer support, I interviewed a bunch of people at the Eva Schloss event and felt really good about it. I also saw my high school journalism advisor, because his wife works at CSU Hillel, and talking to someone who knew my struggle felt good. 

For a long time I’ve doubted if journalism, if news reporting, is something I’ll actually be able to do. It’s the only real thing that makes me feel like I have a purpose, the only thing that makes me not feel depressed about life, but I am still so worried I’ll hold myself back in some way. 

That hasn’t happened yet. 

(line break) 

It’s the summer before my junior year of high school, and I am about to go meet up with the other members of the new leadership team, Katie and Kathleen, at Starbucks. I’ve recently got my license and it feels really good to be driving myself around. 

I go to Target and buy a fancy looking notebook with the last $15 I have to my name, because I don’t have a job yet. I go to Starbucks and discover I like drinking tea. I talk with Katie and Kathleen and we brainstorm what we want the journalism class to look like next year. What we want to change, how we’re going to get students to know that we exist. 

It’s the summer before my senior year, and I bring this same notebook to a meeting at Dazbog that I have with our leadership team to get ready for the school year. I’m in charge. It’s weird, but in a good way. There are a lot more people there, and I fill pages upon pages of ideas, and agendas I want to start the first weeks with. 

So much had changed in a year. My parents got divorced, I started working a lot, I was looking more seriously into college. But so much was the same. The same people, the same work, the same purpose. It was good. 

It’s the second semester of my first year at CSU, my sophomore year of college. I’m at home, cleaning my room, procrastinating because I don’t want to write my final essay. I get a text from Laura, asking if I’ve heard back about the editorial board yet. I had shut my phone off because I was checking my email so obsessively. 

And there it is. I am going to be the 2020-2021 News Editor for The Rocky Mountain Collegian. I still don’t fully feel like I know what I’m doing, even though I have all this experience. News is happening, but it’s summer. Do I write about it? Do I ask other people to write about it? Can I express the authority and knowledge I know I have, to people who have more experience at the paper than I do? It’s still early. 

The day I get the news, I pull out an old, blue notebook that’s barely filled. It’s the perfect place to start brainstorming the things I want to change on the desk and the things I think are super important for Laura and me to talk about. 

I forgot that I had notes from my Editor-in-Chief days in there. 

Photo: The notebook!

It feels like I’ve completed a circle. Like all the highs and lows of my last few years have led me to here, right back to where I’m supposed to be. Where I’ve always known I would be. 

I know who I am; I know where I belong; I know my place and my purpose in this world. 

Ally Carter’s Gallagher Girls series brought me to writing, and writing brought me to journalism. In my obsession with those books, the unofficial motto of the CIA really resonated with me. “And you shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free.” 

Community and truth, that’s journalism. 

I want to be a journalist.

I am a student journalist.

I am a journalist. 

[lucacangettathisass]

attention all ‘how the light gets in’ fans!

i have decided to do a little ‘companion series’ of sorts to the main fic! it will feature scenes that take place out of the reader’s pov as well as the occasional journal entry from arthur! not sure when the first part of this series will be up and the parts wont be as long as the actual chapters so apologies for that in advance.

i also just want to give you all a huge thank you! it really is so heartwarming to see how well received this fic of mine has been, and knowing that there are people out there who care as much about it as i do is just wonderful! i love you all and hopefully i’ll be able to churn out chapters more quickly and get to the real juicy stuff!

(not to spoil too much but we will be in colter for at least two more chapters before heading south to horseshoe)

anyways that’s all, take care everyone!

[kinda-indecisive]

An Idea

So, I have decided I am going to do a kind of a journal every day I remember to do it. It’ll be here on tumblr. I don’t think I’ll write out anything crazy, that juicy stuff will be saved for my actual, physical journal for me to cringe at later, but it’ll basically be just some thoughts or maybe just a blurb from something I’m writing or maybe even a picture or poem. I just want to get my creativity flowing again.

I think a good goal might be ≥ 400 words/day. At least to start. And I’ll probably exceed that goal, I can be a bit wordy some days, but I think that’ll be an attainable goal that I can always bump up later if need be.

Let’s see...

Who?  My name is Tebbra. I am a creator. By that, I mean I love to write, draw, paint, and build. I often just refer to myself as a writer, because writing is what comes most natural for me out of all these things. I’ve referred to myself as ‘kinda indecisive’ since... eighth grade, I believe (for obvious reasons, I think). I am 20 years old and I will be attending my freshman year of college this fall.

If you’re reading this, I’m sure you’ll learn a lot more about me as time goes on.

What?  I’ve already said, it’s a thing I am starting up where I post up a bunch of words similar to a journal entry, but on tumblr where the entire world can see if they wanted. Unless you’re asking what I am, which is human, I think...

When?  It’ll be my goal to do a post once a day. Probably at 10 pm MT, but who knows? Life is unpredictable sometimes, and if it is too predictable things get monotonous.

Otherwise, I hail from the time period between 1998-present. 

Where?  On tumblr. Me? I’m from the US. The west-ish side of it.

Why?  I like writing. Why am I here? To write, I think.

How?  Hopefully with my hands. And I was born by spontaneous generation.

I’m actually very curious to see how long I will keep this up. I’m not a super organized person, but I do love writing. I can usually find a time out of the day to jot down a stream of consciousness, so I think I’ll be pretty okay at finding the time for this. But, like I said before, life is unpredictable.

This should be interesting.

Entry 1 | Word Count: 417

[blschaos3000-blog]

Its 10:08 am

Welcome to “8 Questions with…..”

  It was the last week of January and someone mentioned that it was almost time for “Women In Horror Month” which happens in February. Feel a bit inspired I quickly tossed out a “interviews wanted” in my faithful casting group and got a very nice group of talented actresses who have worked in horror films who agreed to answer some questions.   Its time to meet our next guest,the very spirited young actress Chelsea Jurkiewicz who is based in Salt Lake City,Utah.  Chelsea has been performing for almost half of her life and she is just getting started. I got a chance to watch her work in the short film “Angie Bleeds” and I can assure you,she has some serious skills for someone so young.   It takes a mature actor to handle sensitive issues in a film,most younger actors tend to go big but I was very impressed with mature Chelsea handled herself.    Now she is having a bit of fun by starring in a new indie horror film,which is my cue to shut up and get out of the way of Chelsea answering her 8 Questions…..

     Please introduce yourself and tell us about your latest project.

    Hi! I’m Chelsea Jurkiewicz. I’m 21 years old, and I was born and raised in Salt Lake City, Utah. One of my latest projects is a horror movie called Abigail Haunting, where I play the lead role of Katie. We filmed it in Las Vegas. I got to work with an amazing team of multi-Emmy award winning filmmakers. It’s coming out this Summer, and I can’t wait for everyone to see it! 

What was growing up in your house like? Is your family naturally artistic?

   My family is artistic, but not in the entertainment industry. My mom and grandparents are all great painters. That’s cool, but I was never really interested in that sort of thing. I kind of broke the chain of visual artists when I started acting, singing, and dancing. 

While being only 21 years old,you have been acting for 10 years,how did you get your start?

    Acting is something I’ve always loved doing, even before I knew what it was. As a kid, I was always acting out stories and making up movie titles. When I was 11, I heard about auditions for a live musical. I ended up getting cast in that, and really fell in love with every aspect of performing. I continued doing theatre for a few years. When I was 15, I decided to try film acting. I guess that was always my dream, but I didn’t feel like I was ready to jump into it until then. It was hard to get an agent and all that at first, so I started by doing a lot of background extra work. That worked out really well, because it got me used to being on a film set. Within a year or two, I was able to land an agent and start getting lead roles in short films and small speaking parts in features. In 2018, I got my first leading role in a feature film, playing Renee in The 13th Cross. (That’s coming out soon, folks.) The next year, I landed the role of Victoria Crumb in the movie, The Crumbs, out in California (that’s also coming out soon, folks), and Katie Fredrick in Abigail Haunting (that’s also also coming out soon, folks).     Since then, I’ve acted in a few amazing shorts and things. One of my upcoming shorts that really stands out to me is a fantasy drama called Lumeria. For the past several months I’ve been taking a break from acting, which I think has been really good for me. It kind of feels like taking a gap year from college to find yourself. (Not that I would know what that feels like. I’m not very school-y. Hence my use of the term “school-y”.) But anyway, it’s been a wild journey, and I’m excited to get back on set fairly soon. Wow, that answer was way longer than you bargained for. And I’m glad of it. I’m not ashamed of being a long-winded person, guys.

What three things about horror films appeal to you the most?

  I love being dramatic. And name one time you can be more dramatic than when you’re starring in a horror movie. Also, I think fear is the most intense emotion, and I like to see what I can do with it. My third reason is that I have fun knowing that I can keep the audience on their seat when I’m performing. I feel like I’ve got them in the palm of my hand. When I began my acting career as a child, I just wanted to act – I didn’t like all the power and attention that came with it. But that power and attention has grown on me as my confidence has grown. I love the power I have over the audience when I’m doing horror. Boo. Just kidding. I guess I’m a little hammy. Which makes sense, because ham is pretty much the only meat that I think is yummy.

What  three films have scared you the most and what scared you about them?

   I think I’m kind of desensitized to horror films because I’m around the genre so much. I see it from a behind-the-scenes perspective, you know? But I think one of the greatest horror films ever made is The Conjuring. It’s so well-shot and well-acted, and shows that you don’t need a ton of blood and profanity to scare people. Fun fact: I actually auditioned for The Conjuring 2, and had never seen the first one. I watched it before I auditioned for pre-text, and was like, “Oh my gosh!” Totally amazed. Still amazed. Anyway, we aren’t here to promote that movie. (but it had Ocean Master in it! -Editor) Another one of my favorite horror movies is Crimson Peak, because I love period pieces. And that cast is super dang good. I also love The Witch. One of my big wishes is to work with A24. I can’t give you an answer for what scared me about them. I’m just not easily freaked out by the obviously scary stuff. I’m literally more afraid of broken dolls or something. There’s a drawer in the house I grew up in that me and my mom call the “Scary Drawer” that has broken dolls from my childhood in it. I don’t throw them away because randomly I have an urge to scare myself. Is that weird? I don’t care.

Do you have a different approach in your preperations depending on the script?    What has been the three best pieces of advice given to you acting wise?

  Yes, I do prepare differently based on each particular production. That being said, though, I don’t have any conscious strategy to prepare for a role. If there’s any research I need to do, I do it. I write notes in the script sometimes. I rehearse. Sometimes I feel like I don’t have to try. It just comes. Trying too hard can corrupt that. I sound like a granola, but it’s true. That’s why I don’t take acting classes. I’m not sure if I believe in strategy. As for the second part of your question, here are 3 great pieces of advice given to me (in no particular order). One is from a great friend of mine who told me that it’s not about the dialog, but what happens underneath. I am definitely a dialog person, so I don’t even 100% agree with that, but I still consider it one of the best pieces of advice because it reminds me to pay attention to my facial expressions. Facial expressions can get you cast. Seriously. Another piece of advice is from my mom. It wasn’t meant to be advice for acting, but I use it in my career as much as I do in my personal life. And it is simply to be confident in yourself and don’t care what others think of you. My third piece of advice was from a very established director that I was doing a callback for once. Because of my extensive horror background, I kind of got to the point where I thought every scene needed the intensity that a scary scene does. This movie I had been called back for wasn’t a horror film, but I did the scene with so much intensity and drama. It was literally so dramatic. The director told me to do the scene again, and he had one note for me. “Less.” That one word made me realize that I can save my energy for the scenes that need it. I didn’t book that role, but I auditioned for The 13th Cross like 2 days later, used that advice, and landed my first lead in a feature.

Which do you perfer,film or live theater and why?

 I think I’ll always appreciate both…I did start in theatre after all…but I’m going to have to say film. I’m a very subtle actor, and film is the medium that lets me use that talent. Also, I’ve gotten to play much more dramatic and juicy roles in movies than I ever did in plays. And probably most important of all, I just feel like film peeps are more my species of peep.

Which three people inspire you the most and why?

 That’s a tough one – so many people inspire me! If we’re talking celebrity-wise, I’d say Kate Winslet. She’s kind of the reason I got into film acting. I always wanted to be like her. You should read my 15-year-old self’s journal entries. I talk about Kate Winslet so much, it’s not even funny. Another one is Emily Blunt because she is so freaking versatile. That’s how I want to be. Oh and Toni Collette. I’m not even going to give you a reason for that other than she’s just super cool and talented and dramatic as heck. If we’re talking someone I personally know, I’d say my friend Dennis. He is just beyond amazing and interesting. And as mysterious as a treasure chest. He has so much love for literally everybody. 

What do you like to do for fun when you’re not working?

 Ice-skating, making jewelry, walking/hiking, anything involving a tape recorder, photography, and most of all, any type of adventure with my friends or family. 

What are three things people would be surprised to know about you?

 I love this question! Can I tell you more than 3? Well, I’m gonna. 

      -1. I’m also a singer and dancer.

      -2. I am related to Scottish royalty. 

      -3. I have a severe mental disorder called Psychasthenia. 

      -4. I have been onstage with David Copperfield.

      -5. I am ambidextrous. 

      -6. I have never been swimming, and I used to think that was a deep dark secret.

      -7. I am related to Elizabeth Montgomery.

      -8. My favorite food is cheese.

    Okay, I’ll stop boring you. Not that it’s boring, hee hee.

The cheetah and I are flying over to watch your latest film but we are a day early and now you are playing tour guide,what are we doing?

 Hmmm…well you really SHOULD visit Salt Lake sometime, it’s a beautiful city. One of my favorite attractions in Utah is an amusement park called Lagoon. I can’t ride all the rides because I get motion sick really easily, but I still love that place. Besides fun rides, they have little shops, and an arcade, and an old-fashioned museum thingy-jingy. Another one of my favorite places near my hometown is the Grand America Hotel. It’s kind of like a mall in there, and it’s the fanciest place I’ve ever seen. I also might take you to a cute little place called Gardner Village.

  I like to thank Chelsea for doing such an fun and interesting interview. Of course the cheetah and I looking at each and going “A24????” knowing full well a certain film buff we know will be getting a HUGE kick out of that…..yeah,Danny,we are talking about you! The thing is,I believe Chelsea will indeed work on a A24 film in the near future,she has the drive and the skills to make it happen for herself. Hopefully soon we’ll be reviewing “Angie Bleeds” here on the blog and you’ll see why we are excited to see where Chelsea goes next. For now,you can click on any of her social media platforms below and follow Chelsea’s rising star…..

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/chelseajurkiewiczactress/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/chelseaamberjurkiewicz/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/ChelseaJActress

IMDb: https://www.imdb.com/name/nm6922643/

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCRKkRcWhcZOuqv36lV_oPcA

Abigail Haunting page & trailer

Thank you for supporting my interview series and if you like to catch up with who we have chatted with….click here. Feel free to leave a comment as well…..

8 Questions with………actress Chelsea Jurkiewicz Its 10:08 am Welcome to “8 Questions with…..”   It was the last week of January and someone mentioned that it was almost time for “Women In Horror Month” which happens in February.

[thatweirdmod]

Beriphitar’s Pillage 2: Slow and Steady and the Journal

I've been traveling north for three days now, stopping in mid-tier motels when my ass can't take riding on the scooter with four bags anymore. They're places nice enough that I can expect clean rooms and a pleasant stay, but not so fancy that my paying in cash draws too much suspicion.

I pull into the parking lot of a Motto Locco (decent franchise with a stupid name) and get off Trusty Rusty. It's drizzling rain. I go under the porch cover of the motel, drop the bags on the ground, the straps of which have been digging the fuck into my shoulders by the way, and light up a cigarette.

I'm planning to buy a car, but I've been trying to put as much distance between me and my old town before starting up a money trail, just in case I left behind evidence, and I need to be elusive. Another reason is that I don't think I have enough money in my bank account to buy a car worth a shit at the moment.

I have a feeling eyes have been staring into the distance after me ever since I skipped town. So, I don't want to make a large deposit of money into my bank account, considering that the lawmen know the Greyhorns were robbed. Buying a car with thousands of bucks of cold hard cash may be even more suspicious. So, I made a relatively modest deposit of money into my account yesterday, about $300.

As much as I'd like to get my money in safe storage, and this heavy bag off my shoulder soon, I will continue to trickle money into my account about once a week. Selling the gold bars under the table has also been on my mind. Some people say you should invest in gold, as a type of security in case the value of un-backed federal currency plummits or something.

I don't really give a shit about that, because even if I could shave some gold leaf off the blocks, the convenience store probably wouldn't take that as payment for my Pringles. The gold is heavy, but I don't want to deposit it in the bank, because that would be unusual activity for me-  a red flag for any gumshoe poking around. I've also yet to sell the various other valuables, like jewelry, that I stole from the Greyhorns' house. It's in part because of the whole trail thing, but it's become procrastination now. Tomorrow for sure I'll visit a pawn shop to sell a watch and necklace.

Once I've sucked all the death from the cigarette into my body, I throw the stub out into the rain and head inside. The employee at the counter helps me check in. She's slightly chubby, forty-ish, with curly, short brown hair. She's not ugly, but something about her face just pisses me off. She seems like she'd be a bitch, but I can't decide exactly what kind.

Maybe the kind that talks snidely behind your back? Ah, but there's more to her than that. Nags her husband if she has one? We're getting there. Smiles politely, but has a slight disapproving crinkle in her nose because you stink of smoke? Ooosh, close to home. Will frown as soon as I turn my back to go upstairs? Another nail in the coffin. Watches me fumble a bit with my bags, and wonders nosily and disgustedly at why I have so many? Wow, I'm on a roll.

I realize as I retreat into my room that I'm the bitch, assuming all that, and judging that woman that way. The room has a TV, of course, but TV is like 1/3 ads, 1/3 boring bullshit, and 1/3 things of moderate interest. I consider sleeping to kill my boredom, but I remember that I have Reyfon's diary in one of my bags.

I sit and open it.

"Uncle Freido told me to pull down my shorts... He called it, 'touching trunks like the elephants do," but I'd only ever seen water spray from an elephant's trunk. It hurt a lot when he touched his trunk at the back. Uncle F didn't have a name for that, the fucker."

Pretty juicy stuff. It's sounding like I may have done him a favor, putting the damaged bastard out of his misery. I flip a few more pages.

"I can't explain exactly why I do this. I know I can't excuse it. I'm just propelled. I seek them out. I lure them with sweets, toys, and gifts. I make them feel safe with smiles and a caring, gentle tone. I know how special it can be for a child when a grown up listens, tries to understand, expresses pride in them and treats them like a competent human being. I give them attention. I give them respect. I take their side. And I know to pick the ones whose parents leave voids that I can fill.

In my head, I know it's vile. I know it's a betrayal. I don't understand why my heart doesn't react, doesn't care.

I have predator's eyes. They see all too well how weak, how pathetic the children are. Sometimes, I consider doing the right thing, actually using my position to give them the help and support they need, but I have the stomach of a predator as well. And when I see prey, it rumbles so badly that I must devour."

It doesn't take a genius to see where this is going. There's a "No Smoking" sign in the motel room, but I light up a cigarette anyway. I blow smoke onto the pages. I skim though the records of Reyfon's deeds.

"I don't want to go back to a grown woman now. Little boys and girls are so much tighter... child screamed... leaking blood... asked if I would watch her son for a while... smirked... I took her down to the basement, and... trusted me... touched them so much... bruises... forced him to...

There are coloured pencil drawings of children, unclothed with splayed legs, objects or toys inserted. Some are crying. Some appear to be in strained pleasure. I wonder if Reyfon made them pose while he sketched up these shitty portraits?

"It's an addiction, but I just won't stop. I know some people must suspect something after all this, but no one says anything. Little Brith's mom looked at me strangely the other day. He's come around for a generous handout of candy for the past four Halloweens, but not this one."

I skip along to his latest entry, which was made just five days before I killed him. His aunt, uncle, and their three children came to visit. They wanted to go see his dying father in the hospital, and support their family. He explains how this was a monkey wrench in his plans. He had planned to ask me to kill his brother the day before he found out that they were going to be coming. During their stay, he got the middle child, a girl of six, alone. In his rage over the interruption, he raped and molested the child even more violently than he would normally, a sort of revenge against her parents I guess. He wrote,

"I heard her crying when she was in the bathroom, thankfully before anyone else. I questioned her about it, and she said it really hurt. I told her to be quiet and not to tell anyone that she was having trouble going to the bathroom. Her parents might take her to the hospital, and then it'd be obvious that the girl had gone through sexual trauma.

I said if she made noise again, or told anyone about the pain when peeing and pooping and the things we did together, I'd kill her. I showed her the gun I'd shoot her with, pointed it at her little blonde head, and said, 'Bang.' I was angry at the time, so I used a heavier hand than usual.

I told her I'd have to punish her for making noise, and she cried and begged me not to. I told her to be quiet, pulled down her skirt and panties, and spanked her for disobedience. I started off doing this for a practical reason, but it roused my trunk. I had another session with her right then. I spanked her again afterwards because she cried the whole time. Thankfully, the house is big with good insulation.

I hadn't done enough harm to my aunt and uncle yet though, so I molested their 3 year old son as well. I knew I couldn't ruin his rump like I wanted to though, because he wouldn't have enough self control to hide the pain even if I did threaten him. I bet Kinsey would have liked the details of that, but he already knew that young boys can achieve climax. Their oldest was 10, which is still within my preferred age range, but that girl seemed too smart and strong willed. I didn't want her badly enough to deal with killing her and hiding the body afterwards."

I think I've read enough, at least for now. I'm not going to lie; I'm disgusted. I've done too much myself to be the good guy, and I'm no vigilante, but I'm glad I bashed Reyfon's head in. I walk out into the balcony where I should have been, and throw the cig down onto the dark pavement below. A man in a beige coat down in the lot sees me do this, and that looks suspiciously like judgement on his face. I give him the finger, and turn to walk back in before I have to see his stupid reaction. I crash on the bed without a shower or anything, and just plan to sleep until I wake naturally.

I open my eyes refreshed. I get ready in the bathroom- shower, shave, brush the hair, teeth cleaning, piss, jeans and t-shirt under a grey, white-stringed hoodie. I get my stuff and go down to check out. It's a young woman across the counter this time. Brown hair in a ponytail, ignorant face, maybe she's a student.

I look around. The place is vacant, and this is a small, backwater type town. She's looking down doing one thing or another for me, and I'm looking at her, wondering if I've got five minutes to strangle her.

I vault over the counter and clothesline her in the neck before she can say, "What?!" I slip behind her with my arm hooked around her throat and back up into the wall. She's kicking and grunting in a panic. I can tell she's trying to hit my balls, but she's having a hard time in this position. Mostly what she's managing to do is grind her ass into my crotch, which is giving me a hard-on.

It's soft curves fighting hopelessly against labor hardened muscle. I feel her getting weaker in my unyielding, boa-like grip. A good 60 years of life leave her body with her final exhale. I sigh and drop her down onto the rough carpet.

"Sir?" an unsure, youthful voice asks me.

"Oh yeah, sorry," I respond. The only thing that was real of all that is my straining erection. Of course I couldn't do something so reckless and stupid, but at least I can imagine.

I walk out to greet the morning. The day is sunny and crisp. I take a four minute ride over to the pawn shop that I found in the motel phonebook. The owner's sunken eyes give me what I think is a knowing, slightly wary look from under his heavy white eyebrows. He has a mustache to match, and the thin lips hidden underneath are set in a frown.

He takes the jewelry anyway, though. If he's going to give service, maybe he should give it with a smile so people feel more comfortable coming back. I only get $90 for what I believe was very fine jewelry. Whatever, asshole. It's on to another day of riding away for me.

[drinkinginformer121]

Wall Street Journal Wine Club Login

What do you get on your WSJ Wine Club delivery?

A standard case transport from the Wall avenue magazine Wine club will consist of 12 bottles of wine plus tasting notes for every bottle. The tasting notes encompass statistics about the winery, food pairing ideas, and storage/serving recommendations.

The primary transport additionally comes with a binder to preserve your tasting notes plus a few forms of the first present (mine was a wine corking set, but lately it has been three more bottles of wine).

One of the new additions to the site that I like is that you could see which wines may be covered in your first case before you order. You can pick from 12 reds, 12 whites, or a mixed container. 

Contemporary red wines consist of: an Australian Shiraz, an Argentinian Malbec, a California blend, and a Tuscan Chianti. White wines include of: a brand new Zealand Sauvignon Blanc, an Italian Pinot Grigio, and a California Chardonnay.

Who should order the WSJ Wine club?

Luckily, the Wall road magazine Wine membership can provide delivery to pretty much every nation (with few exceptions). The offer might also range from country to kingdom because of kingdom laws. This makes it one of the maximum flexible clubs that we provide.

But, ordering the membership for a gift can be tough due to the fact they do no longer offer any form of a present wrap or even gift notification provider. 

Because of that, it's miles excellent when used as a personal membership purchase in place to try to send as a gift (even though who would not need 12 bottles of wine??).

The club is pleasant for individuals who like a variety of various wines and trying wines from everywhere in the global. Bottles are anticipated to retail for about $15 each, so that gives you a concept great-sensible of the wine you are getting.

Be sure to take the opportunity to set up an online account when you region your order so you can 1) control your club online, 2) view and type your wines, and 3) store your transport options online. This could additionally assist immensely if you want to contact customer service!

The Wall road magazine Wine Club

Two years into my group I'm trying to determine whether or not to stay a member or make investments my money on wines that I pick out. Wine clubs can be an outstanding idea for people with a lack of getting entry to vast types of vino and even folks that would like to increase their horizons. 

A website that evaluations wine clubs together with WSJ is the Wine club reviews and rankings.

Once I initially notion of putting in writing approximately my recent club revel in it became to percentage all the picks I have been disappointed by using: yes I had started a list. 

But with the passing of time and the realization that we've got enough negativity in our lives I've as a substitute determined to share more than one the current scrumptious surprises I've imbibed thanks to the Wall street  journal Wine club login:

Domaine de Lognac Costieres de Nimes 2010 and the Schroeder estate 2010 Pinot Noir from Patagonia Argentina. Each artfully carried out by some means with extreme and yet sensitive flavors consultant in their man or woman varietal/mixture. 

I believe I may also have one extra bottle of the Domaine de Cognac in my cellar to enjoy again quickly, but the different Schroeder has one way or the other disappeared.

For people with access to those wines drink them now, I do currently not believe you may be disappointed. Domaine de Cognac Costieres de Nimes 2010

Nicolas Bacqué (of the acclaimed Domaine de Cognac) made the most of the Rhône’s stellar 2010 vintage — and judges at the prestigious Concours des Vins du Gard 2011 agreed — they gave his opulent Costières de Nîems a silver medal.

Commonly it’s plush, purple-fruited Grenache that’s the celebrity inside the south. however here, it’s darkish and highly spiced Syrah taking the center degree — it makes up 70% of the blend. Nicolas then introduced the Grenache (20%), followed through a sprint (10%) of juicy Carignan.

Search for a fragrant nostril, with notes of crimson fruit and wild berries which include blackberry and a signature, highly spiced herb (garrigue) character. Greater of the identical at the palate followed through an extended, smooth finish.

WALL Street  magazine WINE club review – PLUS a 15% OFF bargain

My first ever wine membership! Before I even knew I prefer red wine, my grandmother got me this club as a Christmas gift. Wall avenue’s back very well! Backstreet Boys WSJ-wine-screenshots absolutely everyone?

Pay attention, don’t hate me, but I didn’t take any pictures of the wine because I attempted this club like a year earlier than I started reviewing this stuff. However, I did discover the 2 pamphlet matters that came with it and scanned the ones in. The “Welcome to WSJwine” photo is one of the issues that got here within the shipment.

Alrighty, although it’s been a few years given that I’ve attempted their wine, they offer the same deal, the same charge factor, and come on people, no one ever forgets their first. :)

One of the differences changed into the gift that they offer modifications every so often, it wasn’t a corkscrew back them, but honestly, I decide on the corkscrew, purpose I needed to pass by one last time! After I tried them, I used to be a complete beginner, and now I’m quite a chunk greater skilled. Much like an excellent wine, I’ve elderly properly over the past few years!

Professionals

Excellent access price of sixty-nine ninety-9. Adore it, adore it, gotta have it. This additionally makes WSJ-tasting-notes a superb gift, heaps of wine, for one hell of a gift, which it changed into for me.

Very quality brochures that include it, pictured to the right.

Growth. Corkscrew. Adore it. Not a crappy one both. WSJ-corkscrew They say it’s valued at fifty dollars, but I assume it’s more like $25 versus comparable fashions you can find at neighborhood shops. Nonetheless cool with me, I'm not-choosy