PATTON, audrey jenna louise

[audrey patton]

audrey jenna louise patton !

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WON'T HESITATE NO MORE
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TO BE CHILL BUT YOU'RE SO HOT

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THAT I MELTED I FELL RIGHT THROUGH THE CRACKS AND NOW I'M TRYING
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"well hey hey sexy people, the name's audrey jenna louise patton, but most people
just call me audrey or aud. i was welcomed into this fine world on september fifth, 1991,
which would make me about seventeen years old. obviously i'm a chica, and
i'm hella proud of it too! i'm also very proud to be hetereosexual, so if
you don't like it, you can go suck it! a lot of people tend to tell me that i really do
look a whole lot like cintia dicker. i think it's mostly because of my red
hair and my totally heart breaking pale blue eyes. but what really makes me sexy are
my freckles. oh...and did i mention that i'm living it up as stewart academy senior.
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nothing's gonna stop me but divine intervention

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i reckon it's again my turn to win some or learn some but i won't hesitate no more[/font]
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old movies, control, vodka, ambiguity, art, meeting
people, getting my way, philosophy, talking, coffee,
psychology, randomness, english, kissing, history,
orange soda, photography, partying, drawing

AND NOT SO MUCH?

how boringly straight my hair is naturally, feeling
vulnerable, fish, math, losing, ponytails, pictures
of myself, romance, science, not being in control,
not getting my way

WHAT GET'S TO YOU, SCAREDY CAT?

fish creepy me out. i hate bugs, especially spiders. and
mosquitoes. other than that, i’m fine with most animals,
except for maybe rats. they’re creepy. but outside of the
animal world, i’m not really afraid of much. i mean, i’m
afraid of dying, like anyone else. but i’m not scared of
the dark or heights or any of those clichéd fears a lot
of people have. i’m afraid of insanity though; that may
or may not be a cliché, i don’t really know.

WHAT'S YOUR DREAM COME TRUE?

i want to get the hell out of my parents’ house, and i’m
so close. i want to graduate; i’m really not very far from
failing to meet that goal. and i want to go to a college as
far away from my parents as physically possible. maybe
i’ll go to a school in london. i love brazil and south africa,
but i wouldn’t go to college there. maybe australia! that’s
far.

WHAT ARE YOUR HABITS , GOOD AND BAD?

i call people ‘man’ a lot. i curse like a fucking sailor on
leave. i crack my knuckles. i talk a lot. i can be profane.
i think of funny things that happened days before and
randomly start laughing, which tends to weird people out
a bit. i make up silly pet names for people just because
i can. i’m blunt.

WHAT ARE YOU HIDING?

i hate my parents. i’m easily offended. i’m not as confident
as i like people to think i am. sometimes i act like what
people do or say doesn’t affect or bother me, even if it
does.

GOT A FAVORITE MEMORY?

probably when i got my first camera. douglas was supposed
to pick me up from school one day, but he never showed. i
was nine, so i didn’t get it then, but i later deduced that he
was clearing fucking annabeth. then i guess she flipped and
was all, ‘where the fuck is audrey?!’ so he lied, and told her
i was at a friend’s. he came to get me a bit later. and as a
bribe to not tell my mom, he gave me his old camera. it
was awesome; one of those big old school ones. i was always
playing with it after that; i even slept with it some nights. i’ve
been an obsessive photographer ever since. that may very
well be the only decent thing my jackass of a father has
ever done for me.

THE WORST?

i don’t know... i guess how i found out what a jerk matt cohen
was was pretty bad. i’ll go into more details when it becomes
appropriate, but basically, he was my first real boyfriend and
took my virginity; i was fourteen, a freshman. he was sixteen
and a sophomore. the day after we did it, i went to gym third
period. some girls in the locker room were whispering and
looking at me while i changed. then when we got out to the field,
some obnoxious male specimens made kissy faces at me and
asked me to come home with them. it hadn’t taken matt very
long at all to spread the rumor that i was a slut around the
whole school. bastard. but when i punched him (and broke his
nose, might i add) – that might be one of my best memories.

WHAT ABOUT PET PEEVES?

i hate being judged, or people who make that face like
they’re judging you or they think they know what’s right
for you better than you do. i hate prudes who look all
shocked when they find out i’m not a virgin or that i drink.
i hate needy guys who refuse to be dumped; pathetic.
umm... people who can’t take a joke get really annoying,
because i’m not serious very often, and they just get so
confused. that can be funny, actually. haha.

HOW STRONG ARE YOU?

i’m nice, i guess. i’m persuasive. i’m pretty good at art.
umm. i’m alright in english and history, but not as good
as i am at drawing and photography. i can talk in a way
that sounds nice, even if it doesn’t always make a lot of
sense. i’m really good with languages; hell, i’m more
coherent in zulu than i am in english. i’m talkative and
friendly. i’m relatively laid-back. i always look good.
i’m trendy and keep up with styles; i read fashion
magazines more than i read actual books.

EVERYONE HAS A WEAKNESS ...

i curse too much. i don’t always know what i’m talking
about or what the words i’m using mean, but at least it
sounds pretty. i’m awfully forgetful. i can’t deal with
failure or messing up. i drink too much. i party too much.
i don’t think very highly of myself a lot of the time. i have
to control people, guys especially. i don’t trust people,
guys especially again. i’m overtly flirtatious, so everyone,
guy or girl, always seems to think i’m coming on to them
whatever. i don’t do my school work or try in class, but
i’m really not an idiot. i’m stubborn and a control-freak. i
have to be the one to end a relationship. i don’t have real
relationships; just fair amounts of sex and make-outs. i’m
not very inhibited or reserved; i’ve been called ‘wild’ on
more than one occasion. i’ve also been called a whore. i’m
nice enough, but i can be really selfish sometimes, and i
won’t be nice if it would hurt or inconvenience me. i’m a
classic red-head, which means that i have a fiery temper.
i pick fights, and i can stand up for myself. if you insult me
in any way, i won’t let you forget it. i’m physical, and i will
fucking hit you. i spend a lot of time getting ready; i wear
too much make-up and too little clothing, most of the time.

HOW'S YOUR HYMEN, METAPHORICALLY OR NOT?

nonexistent, actually. the virginity ship sailed quite some time ago.
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i'm yours; well open up your heart and see like me

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open up your plans and damn you're free look into your heart and you'll find
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i mostly read trashy romance novels and mysteries. i
don’t really have a favorite, but i’ve been really into
agatha christe lately.

FAVORITE MOVIE?

casa blanca or maltese falcon.
humphrey bogart is god.

FAVORITE MEMBER OF NSYNC?

lance & justin; the others were total dogs. too
bad lance is gay and justin may as well be, hm?

FAVORITE FOOD?

i’ve been on a mexican food crazy lately.

FAVORITE TYPE OF BUBBLE GUM?

ummm, normal?
actually, there’s this mojito flavor. really good.

FAVORITE COLOR?

orange! or indigo! but not together.

FAVORITE TV SHOW?

friends! then heroes, then america’s next top model.

FAVORITE NON-ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGE?

orange soda and/or coffee.

FAVORITE ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGE?

vodka. or a corona lite.

FAVORITE TIME OF DAY?

late afternoon, i guess?

FAVORITE HOLIDAY?

star wars day! (may the fourth! say it out loud
if you don’t get it. ;D )

FAVORITE IDEAL DATE?

i dunno. dating’s overrated.
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spending way too long checking my tongue in the mirror

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and bending over backwards just to try to see it clearer but my breath fogged up
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douglas michael patton; forty-two; pittsburgh; computer technician; father

AND HIS BABY MOMMA?

annabeth marie applegate patton; forty-two; pittsburgh; head of human resources for the east half of the u.s., chase bank ; mother

WHAT ABOUT THOSE CRAZY SIBLINGS?

none.

WHERE ARE YOU FROM?

rio de janeiro, brazil.

WHAT'S YOUR LIFE STORY?

my parents aren’t really the greatest people. i love
them and all, but... maybe i should rephrase. they’re
not the greatest people... for each other. i really have
no idea why they ever got married or why on earth
they’re still together. they hate each other. but
apparently, they have really great sex. that’s probably
why they’re still together.

well, edging our way out of awkward ville. my parents
fight all the time. they work all day, both of them, then
come home, yell at each other. then they ignore each
other for a while. then we go out to dinner because my
mom hates cooking. at dinner, they’re typically very
cool and polite to each other, like they’re total strangers.
then we get home, they yell some more. then they go
into their bedroom and have the loudest sex you can
possibly imagine. i sleep with the radio on. they actually
put a hole in the wall once. and i had to hang out with
the guy who came to fix the wall, because of course,
they were both at work. that construction worker was
hella funny. good times, man.

i don’t have any siblings. i always wished i had an older
brother, though. i’m not sure why, i’ve just always wanted
one. and i already decided that his name would be jake.
that probably sounds really lame.

my mom used to work in development for chase bank, so
we moved around a lot. my parents are both american,
neither with close ties anywhere, but i was born in brazil.
i moved to johannesburg, south africa when i was five. then
to london two weeks before my eleventh birthday. then to
pittsburgh, pennsylvania when i was thirteen. we moved to
the pitts because my mom got a better job. now she’s in
charge of human resources for the whole east half of the
country. i think my mom has the coolest job. my dad’s a
computer technician, so he could move to wherever my
mom had to go. she would have kicked him out if he hadn’t
cooperated, quite honestly. but i have a pretty interesting
accent. since both of my parents are from new england/new
york, i had that influence. and i picked up a lot of brazilian
inflections, since i was there while i was like, learning how
to talk. there’s a little less south africa and even less
english in my accent. but i like it. i’m fluent in portuguese
and zulu, and i can speak a little afrikaans and swati. more
swati than afrikaans, but i have more fun with afrikaans.
oh, and a very little bit of nheengatu, but my pronunciation’s
off.

i should probably explain what has brought me to the point
in my like where i have given up on romance. in late middle
school and early high school, things were different. i liked
guys in a more innocent way. i fantasized about dating and
getting married like lots of girls do. then freshman year, i
had my first real relationship – matt cohen. he convinced
me to have sex with him after about a month. then he
told all his friends all about it, about how he took the hot,
prude partier’s virginity. then i punched him in the nose
and dumped his sorry ass. and ever since, i’ve realized
that that’s all guys see when they look at me. i know that
i’m hot, but a lot of the time i wish that i wasn’t, so that
i would know when someone actually likes me versus
when someone just wants to jump me. so i gave up on
guys in a romantic sense, but i like sex now that i’m in
control of it. and yeah, i’ll use my appearance to my
advantage. why wouldn’t i?

i’ve never known anyone who died, except for my great
grandmother when i was seven. but she was ninety-four and
i barely knew her, so that doesn’t really count. my parents
hit me sometimes, but i’m not abused and it’s usually my
own fault. i’ve head sex, but never against my will or
anything weird like that. i mean, i guess i’ve lived a pretty
interesting life, living all the places i have. but i’m not
really particularly different. pretty boring backstory, huh?

THE SOUNDTRACK TO YOUR LIFE?

look at me, do you see anything you want? i do when i look at
you. three words unheard, a verse that i should say to you, but
there’s just no use. ‘cause i’m shy around the edges ‘til i know
what i should mention. and my thoughts are still catching up to
leave my mouth. i’m thinking i should wait but it’s getting kinda
late and i’m sure i would really hate to leave the same old way
tonight. ‘cause i want you and i need you and i don’t think i could
leave with this in mind. so oh, this time. mentally incomplicated,
never speaking hopefully, the product of my motto will be
something that my mother had said. but oh, instead. and i’ll say
the wrong words and you’ll move onwards, ‘cause i’m a coward.
i don’t know how to work this out. but i’ll save it for later, ‘cause
i’m a terrible moderator on what’s happening. i don’t know where
to begin. so i’ll save it for later, ‘til i get a little more creative,
‘cause just saying it won’t make it right, oh no. and i’m a little
more redundant than i ever could have thought it, i’m a little
more redundant than i ever could’ve thought it. well i tonight
deny that i never ever try to get a three word line to you.

save it for later five times august

hard days made me, hard nights shaped me. i don’t know,
they somehow saved me. and i know i’m making something
out of this life they call nothing. i take what i want, take what
i need. they say it’s wrong but it’s right for me. i won’t look
down, won’t say ‘i’m sorry’; i know that only god can judge
me. and if i make it through today, will tomorrow be the same?
am i just running in place? and if i stumble and i fall, should i
get up and carry on or will it all just be the same? ‘cause i’m
young and i’m hopeless, i’m lost and i know this. i’m going
nowhere fast, that’s what they say. i’m troublesome, i’ve
fallen, i’m angry at my father, it’s me against this world and
i don’t care. i don’t care.

young and hopeless good charlotte

you think you know me? word on the street is that you do. you
want my history? what others tell you won’t be true. i walked
a thousand miles while everyone was asleep. nobody’s really
seen my million subtleties. got stains on my tee-shirt and i’m
the biggest flirt. right now i’m solo but that will be changing
eventually, oh. got bruises on my heart and sometimes i get
dark. if you want my auto, want my autobiography, baby,
just ask me. i hear you talking. well it’s my turn now, i’m
talking back. look in my eyes so you can see just where i’m
at. i walked a thousand miles to find one river of peace. and
i’ll walk a million more to find what this shit means. got stains
on my tee-shirt and i’m the biggest flirt. right now i’m solo
but that will be changing eventually. got bruises on my heart
and sometimes i get dark. if you want my auto, want my
autobiography, baby, just ask me. i’m a bad ass girl in this
messed up world, i’m a sexy girl in this crazy world, i’m a
simple girl in a complex world, a nasty girl; you wanna get
with me? you wanna mess with me?

autobiography ashlee simpson

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THERE'S NO NEED TO COMPLICATE

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OUR TIME IS SHORT THIS IS OUR FATE I'M YOURS SCOOCH ON CLOSER DEAR[/font]
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hey, what's up? my name is andiiii and i've been rocking out with
my stunna shades for seventeen years. yeah, i know i'm pretty ill.
and obviously i'm a female, can you dig it? if you wanna get in touch with
me just hit me up by pm, man. oh, and i gotta have me my red light district like woah.

Albus had left without her. Everyone had left without her, actually. While most students were outside, ready to enter Hogsmeade, Rose was still in her dormitory. “Oh, crud,” she muttered under her breath, giving the fabric another tug. She had hurriedly changed out of her Gryffindor robes, already running late. She was always caught on the nasty end of a moving staircase. With no explanation, they always seemed to move while she was on them, halfway to wherever she needed to be. Potions was already as far from the Gryffindor tower as humanly possible, but add in a staircase with a grudge sending her back towards the wrong end of the school?

By the time she had burst into the common room, it was nearly empty. With a sigh, the red head had run up the stairs to her dormitory, where she quickly changed into a dark pair of blue jeans and a lavender tee-shirt. And as she reached for her black zip-up sweatshirt, she found that, of course, it was stuck on something in her trunk. Angrily, she pulled at the thin black fabric of the sleeve, grunting in impatience. It was moments later when, with a final aggressive tug, Rose was flung backwards, sweatshirt on top of her. Victorious, she sprang to her feet, pulling her long Weasley red locks into a ponytail as she started down the stairs.

---

“I’m here!” Rose breathed, thrusting her wrinkled permission slip at her head of house, Professor McGonagall. The professor arched one thin brow as she took the piece of paper and straightened it out carefully. “Very well, Miss Weasley. But in the future, it would do you better to be on time.” Rose grimaced, looking down to her shoes as she nodded. “Sorry, professor.” McGonagall nodded and waved the student off.

Rose stomped angrily to Albus and James, pulling on her sweatshirt as she walked. “Thanks for waiting,” she grumbled. She knew it wasn’t their fault, of course. Stupid staircase. But it was nice having someone to blame.

James laughed, only fueling Rose’s contempt. With an audible “hmph!” she took off.

She probably could have done without the sweatshirt, she realized begrudgingly as she played with the zipper. It was actually quite warm out, nicer than she had expected. And if it hadn’t been for the fight with the sweatshirt, she might have been on time! Rose frowned to herself. That really was her luck.

---

Rose had been told all the time that she was like her mother, but that she looked just like her father. She had Ron Weasley’s bright red hair and blue eyes – she’d actually been told more than once that she looked just like her aunt, Ginny. But she had Hermione’s intelligence and spark. She did well in her classes and stood up for herself. But she was also talkative and social and a bit of a spitfire.

Her brother Hugo was an altogether different story, more like her father than anyone else. He said some of the stupidest things, in Rose’s opinion, and he never stopped eating. And though he had the Weasley red hair, he had Hermione’s brown eyes.

But Rose and Hugo got along pretty well. The whole Weasley-Potter clan was pretty close-knit. Rose looked out for Hugo and Lily just like Albus and James did, and James and Albus were always there for her. Hugo and Lily were pretty much attached at the hip though, and James and Albus were especially close, too. Rose was the one who tended to flit in and out of the family circle the most, had the most close friends that she wasn’t related to.

Like Scorpius. Though with Scorpius Malfoy, friend was an interesting word, and maybe not the most applicable one out of the hundreds of thousands of words available to her. But she couldn’t think of anything better. Scorpius could annoy the hell out of her sometimes. He was just so damned smart. She hated to admit it, but he was probably smarter than she was. Of course, that wouldn’t ever stop the stubborn red-head from trying to compete with him in classes and even out of classes.

But she liked his company. For some inexplicable reason, she had fun with him. James seemed the most perturbed by this idea. He got this funny look on his face whenever he saw Rose and Scorpius together, and Rose was sure he gave Scorpius and especially hard time after seeing him with her. She felt bad for that, but she didn’t know how to talk to her cousin about it. If word got back to her father about her being friends with a Malfoy, things might not turn out well. Rose couldn’t do anything about it.

---

It was towards the selfsame blond boy that Rose started after stubbornly disregarding her cousins. James frowned as Rose walked over to Scorpius and snuck up behind him. She walked along the gravel path behind him as quietly as she could until she was only an inch or two behind him. Grinning, she went to surprise him... and tripped. She squealed in surprise as her toe caught on a larger-than-typical piece of gravel and she fell forwards into the blond boy.

this application was created by ally uno of toybird productions and
ally cubed of toybird productions and CAUTION 2.0. steal this and we will
hunt you down and release ally uno's angry pregnancy hormones on you.

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