Tasty Apple Treats!

A Venting of the Heart

2011-10-10T20:25:00.000-07:00

I've never quite understood dating.

It's like I've some sort of spliced gene; I've got the quality, but not the substance.

Many times, I've pondered what it all means, and what it's meant for. Projects for school were dedicated. I tried to make a science of it, love. I watched documentaries, read books, made lists... I tried to control it.

Apparently, every body except me knows that you can't control love.

A friend signed me up for an online dating service. At first, I was completely open to the idea. After all, I live in place that barely gives me a man to look at. And the men who are there... long story short, they have more than enough problems.

It was fun, for a time. In the oddest way, I saw that I was attractive. People visited my site on a good average. I received many messages, all telling me that not only was I cute, but I had intelligence to boot. I was different.

I wasn't quite sure what to do. I responded to everything and everyone. I tried to do as the site said as well, which was search and message others; they said that females found better matches if they were just as assertive.

This has proved time and time again to be wrong in my experience. Assertiveness gives me nothing but trouble. Don't get me started on flirting.

This is mostly due to my inability to tell if people are flirting to be fun or serious. I flirt to be fun--a lot. It confuses a handful of guys, but once they see my sense of humor, they all join in. The problem with this? No one can tell when I'm seriously flirting. And it can get touchy oh-so-fast. Mostly because I can't tell if someone I start to seriously flirt with is being serious either.

Then, the bee dance commences. The godforsaken does-he-like-me-or-not bee dance from hell.

You know what I'm talking about. The part of when you can't tell whether he said he liked you in one way or another. The part of when he hugs you for longer than you expect and you think it means something. The part of when he smiles and you can tell he's genuinely happy around you.

And who can forget the part of when you act like a fool who can't stutter a word. The part when your message doesn't resound what you meant, or it could be taken both ways. When you stay up all night thinking of why he didn't message you back. The part, especially, when you realize you have no chance.

I stopped going to the website for a few weeks. It was all too much, the messages, the searching, the wondering if they're desperate--or if you are. The messages began to dissipate, but I still checked my email in hopes of finding something. Three successful marriages did occur in friends from dating online, so there had to be something to it, right?

In the science way, I came to a conclusion. It didn't matter whether I dated online or in person--I got the same response. People who I didn't like asking for dates; people who I would totally date not at all interested; people who both parties felt the connection, but something came up and nothing could come of it.

I'm fucked either way.

So, in a subdued way, I made my way back to the website. I updated my profile. I started answering questions to get better matches. I wrote back to people who had messaged me weeks ago and I hadn't responded.

Oddly, I started receiving a stream of messages, like I'd unblocked a pond that had once been a stream.

All these people, like me, were putting their hearts at risk, and thought I was worth it. They unabashedly said I was pretty and they were interested. They were doing what I couldn't: saying, "Let's go on a date." These people were doing much more than any guy in my "real life" would do--ask me out besides making me feel like I was wanted.

I'm still fucked--after all, I'm just as susceptible to the pros and cons on both internet dating and face-to-face. And, the guys all seem to be the same, no matter where I go (seriously, guys? Can you prove me wrong and be straight up for once?).

But there's a respect I have for online dating that I didn't have before. People who would never have the courage otherwise have a chance to get their word in and say something.

The bee dance has changed. And, until the guys out there are just as willing as the internet ones to come straight up and say "You're the one I want to date.", I'm apt to continue clicking away and finding what I want in life.

Fun Fact: The bee dance has always been a term I've used to explain how difficult it is for me to date. There always seems to be these steps I don't get, complicated steps that are supposed to mean the simplest of things--like "That pollen I got from that flower is right over there". I don't hate bees, but God knows I hate that dance.

Re-Discoveries

2011-07-14T16:47:00.000-07:00

Whenever I clean house, I need other distractions. While some may be able to focus on the task at hand, I need something to make me forget that I'm doing something incredibly boring. And that I'm not doing something redundant (because, seriously, it's going to be dirty the next day anyway).

During my room and the living room, I watch Netflix. However, it had to be shows that I've already seen, due to the fact that when I see something new, I have to pay attention to what's going on. I can't stand not understanding what happened. I refuse to watch a show I've never seen midway through (unless it's something pointless, like reality television). It's like reading the last page of a good book.

It's almost ironic that I enjoy Quentin Tarantino.

However, I can't enjoy movies in the kitchen. The television is too small if I'm far away, and there's nothing ever on the movie channels (I can't stand commercials, either).

That's when I remembered that Dish had CD channels.

Now, I'm also going to say I don't enjoy radio stations (I used to be a small-time DJ at school, but it wasn't anything to write home about--fun, but no one listened to me, I'm sure). I don't like the same music is played over and over again. I usually enjoy the CD channels on Dish because they play the songs people forget.

I was clicking through the channels, trying to catch my ear on something interesting when music that I would only hear while in a garden party at an Icelander's house (true story) came on.

Martini Time.

That's the name of the channel.

Pure genius.

I can't quite explain the exhilaration of washing dishes to this music. It's like I'm in a pastel dress, my hair up in a smooth bun, serving margaritas when I'm really elbow deep in sudsy water.

There's just something fun and slightly romantic cleaning to Frank Sinatra and Keely Smith sing Nothing in Common. Or hearing Bobby Darin croon Call Me Irresponsible.

Cleaning as never felt so sexy. As domestic as it sounds.

Fun Fact: My Iceland friend claims to be the best Elvis impersonator. When we went to Las Vegas, we only ran into one impersonator at a wedding chapel--sadly, the Icelander won.

Yes, I Would Have Sex With That Man

2011-07-05T18:43:00.000-07:00

Let me start this off properly: Despite what any female will say, it is quite a known fact that when a female meets a male, she will depict within moments on whether or not she is attracted and will then place the male into one of two categories--sex, or no sex.

This starts at an early age, although it is never known when the female finally realizes that she is placing the males into these particular groups.

Probably around the age 15. Or 25.

Either way, here's the point: Tom Hanks? Yes, I would have sex with that man.

Let's review why.

This man is an every day man. The every day polite, hard-working, sexy man.

Some of you may be judging the word "sexy" here. May I remind you, there are many different ways to be sexy?

There's the oozing of sexy one gets by being absurdly hot--the kind of hot that nobody remembers anything else about you because you have nothing else to offer (ex. Colin Firth. I mean, come on--anyone really remember any movie that could have made him this popular? It's all the accent and body).

There's the funny sexy, where charm enters. This doesn't mean one is necessarily hot, even (I don't think Shatner got where he was for looks...). Although, I do have to say, Ryan Reynolds has got my vote for this one. Even in a beard, that man's got it good. I don't even care that people don't find him funny all the time, he's just--

I'm getting off track. This isn't about how much I'd love jump on Ryan Reynolds' back, point to the sky, and yell, "Yip, yip!"

This is about what type of sexy Tom Hanks is.

He's a polite sexy. Ever meet a genuinely nice guy who can actually apologize for wrongdoings? I've met one: my father. Doubtful I'd ever see that again, along came Tom Hanks. I mean, here Tom says something that I'm positive half the world was thinking, and he apologizes like a man despite the many of his supporters. Just saying.

He's smart-funny sexy. And dumb-funny sexy. True story. He is.

He's "every man" sexy. Mr. Tom Hanks' appeal comes from the good-father, normal body, down-to-earth sexy. There are times when you realize how normal he looks, and other's in which you realize how sharp he really is and understand how he got to be where he is now (and hasn't gone completely insane, since he's normal).

Tom Hanks is just that guy who every woman would place into that category of Sex.

And did I mention his children? Because a man who can produce such attractive kids? Yes, I would have sex with that man that much more (it's just science).

Fun Fact: Yes, I do like Ryan Reynolds. Many find him to be an unfunny character who tries too hard--and I don't. So sue me.

Fun Fact 2: I mean, seriously. He made Blade 3. That film would have bombed had it not been for his obvious jokes. At least, bombed more.

Fun Fact 3: David Tennant. Yes, I would have sex with that man, too.

To Start Off

2011-06-28T19:57:00.000-07:00

I contemplated many ways to start this blog again.

It has taken me many months since my last entry, but I went with what a good boss told me at work: Just do it.

Now, I know the Nike line is tm'd and all, but reading it does actually give me something to think about. Over six months ago, I promised I would start writing again. And I did. For a while.

But then I got bogged down with how to go about it, whether I should use my other site, how I would change my other site to suit my needs...

And then I thought, "Why stop? Why not do both? My journey still hasn't ended--it's still in the beginning!"

So, it's been settled. I will use this particular blog for whatever I wish (beware!).

The other will be a continuation of what I once started as a project and never quite finished due to becoming slightly confused at my over-analysis of what love is and what it can be.

Be sure to drink your Ovaltine, and see you soon!

Where The Soul Is

2010-11-11T16:34:00.000-08:00

I think I've always loved baking. Not cooking, but baking. I love the smells it creates, warming the house with its scents. I'm calm while I bake, even when I make every mistake in the book.

Since being home, I've become something of a kitchen nut. While I love romping around doing odd-jobs, watching my favorite television shows and movies for the umpteenth time, and crocheting my little heart away, there's something satisfying all around when baking.

Don't get me wrong--I've also caused my parents to get the kitchen bug. Since I've been home, we've tried all sorts of recipes for dinner. I've even gotten them to like making Chinese/Japanese food, to a point (they aren't as enthused to try anything beyond rice with curry... apparently, peanut sauce is too much to ask for). The dogs truly enjoy following me around, waiting for some morsel of my ingredients to fall to the floor for their taking.

I love making treats and breads. Banana and apple bread are my favorite, right when they come from the oven, still warm and filled with bits of fruit. Pies are fun, too. I've taken a habit of memorizing the ingredients, and I've thought of what I may or may not add later, experimenting.

It wasn't always like this. We'd usually bake during the holidays. One year, when I was about twelve, I came into the kitchen while my mother made fudge, melting butter and sugar together on the stove top. The smell made me gag, and still to this day gives me shivers. Nothing should ever enter the stomach with that much butter and sugar... It turned me off from baking for quite some time.

But college changes you. Meals go from home-cooked to buffet and packaged. After about a year and a half, everything begins to taste the same, from the fresh apples to the Alfredo sauce. Baking your own food is the only way to make the taste buds dance.

Our neighbor has given me two pie dishes, one for apple, the other for pumpkin. He said I should put them in my Hope Chest. He then laughed and said that he supposed we don't do that so much anymore. I also pointed out that "I don't have a man, and won't need one to bake. I just need friends and family to enjoy what I have to offer!" He's been invited over for every pie made since.

Random Fact: In the 19th century, apple and other fruit pies were a fairly common breakfast item. Fruit pie was considered part of a good hearty meal before a hard day's work.

2010-11-10T19:06:00.000-08:00

The happy news has occurred: I officially have a job.

When I think back, I've done a lot to transfer myself to the here and now. I did some modeling classes, but then got into Isshinryu, but then got into theatre until college, then got into writing, then got into film, and now I'm a writing/film artist who is going to be an Events Coordinator, using my creative skills with marketing and setting up for concerts and giveaway events.

Honestly, I'm quite proud of myself. Even though I've had support from every single friend and family member, it's nice to have done something on my own and accomplish it. And there's no grade, no person saying I'll need to edit something in order for it to work. I'm in the real world, and putting my abilities to a different test, the kind that is really morphing my future.

I've talked with many about my new job, and a question that always comes up is whether I will be seeing and working with celebrities.

I say yes, because the definition of a celebrity to me can be complicated. When I look at any magazines depicting the so-called celebrities of today, I can barely name one percent of the names. I suppose this means I should be "brushing up" on my reality television, but I'd rather pull out my own fingernails than watch people with fake skin and hair say the word "like" as often as a car uses gas whilst on a freeway.

I've had two roommates who love watching these shows. If I could stomach watching them, I'll bet they'd make great drinking games. Of course, one would have to stop fifteen minutes in, as one could die with the drinks having to be taken.

Either way, the celebrities that I'd have to work with I don't necessarily know. I'm not that into what is now considered Country music, and the people I find humorous aren't going to be playing on their stage any time soon.

When asked what kind of people I'd want to meet, I'd want to meet Joss Whedon, definitely Neil Patrick Harris... Nathan Fillion would be fun, or David Tennant. Zooey Deschanel, David Bowie, and Ricky Gervais are in the top ten for sure, as well as Marc Webb. Neil Gaiman is a given.

I don't think I'd bump into any of celebrities in my new career, but I suppose I'll keep my head up, just in case.

I'm more concerned with the wardrobe affair. I've never been one for shopping, and now is the time in which I have to get more appropriate attire. It's not that I don't have a few nicer items to wear, but looking at my closet, you can tell that I have a love for black t-shirts. And comfy pajamas that I've become accustomed to wearing even during the day. Which means I'll get to spend a day trying on clothes and staring into a mirror, a pastime I gave up with ball-in-a-cup.

At any rate, I've been racing around the house getting random things done I know I won't easily accomplish with a new job taking up time. Re-assorting the recipe box, rearranging the laundry room (this includes tearing apart the wall shelves), and actually finishing my room (which may include a bed change).

I finished with the recipe box as I finished watching Firefly. I'd forgotten how good the show had been, and it brought up the old feeling of why I'd stopped writing. How could something so fantastic, in idea and writing and direction, be taken away?

But Whedon has always had these ideas that are then taken away. And he's never stopped trying, despite yet another fabulous series canceled.

Taking a page from his book, I've decided to not only jump into my new job with gusto, but also not give up my other hobbies. After all, my father still has some work to do on his crocheting.

Random Fact: A cat has 32 muscles in their ear.

2010-11-03T18:23:00.000-07:00

I am currently teaching my father how to crochet.

It's an interesting feeling, when one goes from being taught to doing the teaching.

I find myself trying to find other ways to explain how to make crocheting understandable. I can't exactly remember how I learned, as it was over seven years ago, and I can't remember the quick tips people gave me, either. A lot of what I did was trial and error, and just figuring out things myself.

what I easily understand is difficult to put into words. It's like trying to explain to someone how you breathe, and that it's the lungs that take in the breath so the rest of your body can have the oxygen to operate correctly.

I even tried to draw a visual, until I realized it would be easier to just show it physically.

I don't want to get lazy, but I'm contemplating finding a few good videos online to show him. I'm not frustrated with him, I'm frustrated with my inability to get across things in an understanding manner.

Perhaps this is why I do and do not teach. And why I'm not becoming a teacher.

Either way, it's still fun to teach. I like passing the torch, as small as it is. I especially like sharing the art because you can get different perspectives.

We'll see where this leads.

Random Fact: You burn more calories sleeping than while watching television. A good reason to crochet/knit while watching the boob tube!

A Blessing

2010-11-01T11:24:00.000-07:00

I miss New Zealand. Whenever I think about it, which is at least once a day, I think of how different words are pronounced.

I love how they pronounce 'marathon', the 'o' sounding like an 'e'. And how 'garage' was the name 'Gary' and 'age' placed together.

I'm sad I didn't spend more time really exploring the place, rather than having to choose school over a weekend in Wellington, where I only spent one day in and felt so happy and perfect in that place, like it was a new home I didn't know I had.

I sometimes wonder if I left something behind in that country. For a place that didn't necessarily have the best technology, they were way ahead of America in acceptance and generosity. The only bad experiences I had there were with other Americans, who didn't want to befriend the Kiwis I so enjoyed hanging around.

Most of my art projects involve an element of New Zealand. Kiwi and plant life alike, they find their way into my pieces. I feel like I'm stealing from another art when I mimic the way a leaf unfolds.

But I can't get it out of my head.

And then I came back. I don't think I had a reverse culture shock, but I did keep comparing things in my head. I noticed the scenery around me more, and missed the green lush that was so vivid. I still laugh at how Michael told the whole floor how I called a duvet a comforter, and how I'd been so embarrassed because the rest of the floor chuckled with him. I love that my mates got into the Halloween spirit with me by carving pumpkins, dressing up, and then watching scary/fun flicks.

I mostly miss how safe everything was. Everybody was nice, welcoming, and willing to share. And I feel guilty that I had a whirlwind experience and wasn't able to give that back to the extent they did for me.

This is what I think about in the split seconds of the morning when I wake up and wonder where I am.

Random Fact: The gnomon is the thing that casts the shadow on a sundial.

To be Inspired

2010-10-31T13:50:00.001-07:00

I was once told that in order to write, you must get over the fact that you have nothing to write about and write anyway. That, even if you have a writer's block, writing about that will therefore mean you don't have it.

For the past two years, I have been unable to pick up a pen and write something that I thought was worthwhile. Considering the ever booming internet with it's Facebook and more blogging than ever thought possible, I felt that for me to write something was to write something that was already done and said, so why add my mantra?

It took a while for me to realize that this wasn't who I was. I've always added my mantra, or opinion, or two cents (accumulating to over a quarters worth as the years continue).

And writing made me happy. It has been a part of who I am since I can ever remember. Books fascinated me. As a child, my father would read to me before bed, books such as The Big Orange Splot, or The Contests at Cowlick, using voices to create characters I now remember even at the age of 23. My father can still recite Yertle the Turtle when I ask him (which, when I do, he shakes his head and tells me that I "can't be serious". But then he does when I start off and ask how the rest goes).

During my elementary years, I was told to be a good student, but wasn't always paying attention because I would be reading while the teachers gave their speech about addition and subtraction (In my defense, I already knew and figured my time would be better used in an imaginary world rather than blankly staring at a person and waiting for the five students who weren't fully understanding the process to lie and say they got it so we could all move on to the next subject.) My favorite time in elementary was when we could make our own books. We'd write a story, pictures and all. The library would help us make covers out of fabric pasted on cardboard, then would help us to bind the book. I would have made fifty by the end of the day, had the teacher not insisted on moving onto the next subject, and that they also didn't have enough supplies.

When our computer was upgraded from the silly floppy disk hangman game to an internet dial-up machine just before my teens began, I quickly discovered I could use a program to type up what I was thinking, which was much faster than writing down my million-a-minute thought process (my parents always said my brain was going much faster than my mouth could speak). I began my first "novels", which consisted of taking ideas from my most liked subjects and trying my hand at creating it myself.

I'm happy to announce the probably lawsuit material cannot be seen as the computer crashed and broke (thank God, as I'm sure it could be used as proper blackmail, the stuff was so horrid).

Hours were spent on that computer. I'd write before I went to school, after I came home from school until dinner, and then after dinner until my father would tell me that , yes, I had to go to bed, as it was two in the morning.

College changed that.

Despite my love for writing, I originally thought my career would take me into an acting path. I loved theatre, and even spent my junior and senior years devoted at an arts high school. After writing as I normally do for a class, a teacher came to me and asked if I considered taking a few more classes on writing, as I had a unique and fun style. One semester in and I changed my major.

Theatre is like a mask, I found. Everybody works together, and the show can't go on without everybody doing their part. And yet, the other side is like a competition, where, behind the scenes, there was more drama than what was on stage.

Writing was different. I found that most of what I liked about theatre was the story being told, and where an actor couldn't get across a character, a book could. And so went the next four years after my first year writing. I added on film, so I could direct and create visually as well.

Frankly, I got burnt out. Toward the end of that path, I began to really look at myself in comparison to others. I had chosen a career path that went distinctly on a person's whim. I could write my whole life and have people say, "You're all very good, but we're looking for something with more vampires, and possibly zombies. Yes, zombies would be good." or "We love how you phrase things, but we aren't looking for someone with a sarcastic and quip-like writing." And I noticed other people's writing, where they got such great ideas for short stories.

I stopped writing because I decided it was easier to not even try rather than set myself up for disappointment.

Except it became hard, difficult even, for me to not write. I would constantly think about writing, but would never write. I would think up lines and wish I would just write them down for later use. I would smile after a conversation as I thought of how it would be in a paragraph, or how it could become a short story. But after not writing for a good few months, I couldn't grab the pen to write because that would be giving in and accepting a defeat I didn't even have yet.

People say they found themselves in college; I lost myself. It took graduating for me to begin to find myself again.

When I'm asked what I do, I say I write. I make films, and I write. My job isn't writing, which is what it became in school. My job is something I have on the side to make money so I can continue to do what I love, the way I love it, until somebody's whim says they like what I have to offer.

Slowly, but surely, I have become okay with this.

Random Fact: Plants can suffer from jet lag.

Paper For Class

2009-08-07T08:42:00.000-07:00

“Shouldn’t I have all of this and passionate kisses.”
-Mary Chapin Carpenter

I deserve the world.

A lot of people say this. In fact, I’m sure they pray for it every night, though they may not say it in those exact words. They will say them as, “Please let me win the lottery,” or “Make that dick who just passed me speed his way into a cop.” However, they do not deserve the world.

I do.

And, in a nicely fashioned numerical order, I’ll tell you why.

1. I work hard.

This isn’t to say that other’s don’t. In fact, I know plenty of people who work just as hard as me, if not harder. However, I am a college student, with student loans that I will probably not be able to afford to pay off later due to the fact that I have chosen a career that, unless someone finds it amusing enough to print, and others find it amusing still and buy it, I am completely fucked. Yet, despite this hardship, I keep right at it. I continue down the path of writing and making film because, in my heart, I am doing what I truly what I want to do.

And that is what separates me from the other hard workers. How many people can say that they are not only working hard, but they are working hard on their dream? Most are working hard, but hating their job every moment, as their dreams lie in being a fire fighter, or a painter, perhaps even a person who does voiceovers for silly commercials. I, against many who tell me I should be doing otherwise, am doing what I love.

Just in the middle of Spring Semester, I applied to have my tuition paid for by the Minnesota Rural CEP, a workforce center. Two weeks later, in which I had called and fervently tried to get an interview, I received a letter that said I was perfect in every eligible way to have this grant--but, they said, “we are not looking for someone in your field right now.” Imagine feeling as if you’ve spent four years doing something, paying for something, that you were so proud of, only to have someone say that it was a waste of time (at least, in so many words). I spent the better of a good two weeks wondering what I was doing with my life, if I was making right decisions on where I was going to be. However, every single time I made a list of other possibilities, or sat down to contemplate, all I could think of was how unhappy I would be, and that, though I may not be making extreme money, or that no one “needs” my special talents, they wouldn’t have to answer to me at the end of the day. They wouldn’t have to go to bed at night sad, or wake up and realize they weren’t doing what they were truly meant to be doing with their hearts.

Plus, there is also the fact that I hold three jobs. I work as a Resident Assistant, which accumulates up to being not only having your own drama and emotions, but everyone else’s as well. I also work at Gamestop, a retail job that, though may have better scenery than other places, in the end is just selling things to people, and trying to keep them happy. The last is working at as a secretary on campus, where people call wanting all sorts of information, and if you don’t know it, then one is ridiculed via phone, as it is much easier to tell someone what terrible people they are when you don’t have to see them face-to-face. But I persevere, doing my best to remain calm, and do what needs to be done. I even manage to have some free time, taken with even more appreciation than another.

2. I have a great balance between being compassionate and having my needs taken care of as well.

You may be thinking, “That’s great that you have a healthy balance for that and all, but the people who are always compassionate no matter what are the one’s who deserve the world!” And I ask you to take care to read my reasoning before jumping to conclusions.

Think about it. Someone who is always putting someone else first is the greatest kindness of all, but how long can they go on doing such before there is a breaking point? Would someone who had the entire world do well if they were out of business just as often as they were in because they were breaking down? Plus, other’s would just take advantage of the poor soul, and then where would we be? In a world where everyone but that person deserving it having it.

No, I deserve to have the world because I can handle what is given to me. I’m not saying that having three jobs, plus always having great work ethics, doesn’t put a strain on things. This is why I take vacations, volunteer, write, and make film. Work hard, play hard. Plus, always doing what one loves is never work, so the stresses that are involved with my job are the good kinds of stress, the ones that make you work harder, and make you feel better at the end of the day when achieving success. Even a failure seems somewhat fantastic, as it means that one learns from the mistake.

3. I’m not too bad to look at, with smarts and a sense of humor to boot.

So, I’m not a model. However, I do have a great smile, glasses with personality, and really long hair that’s healthy. In fact, I’m overall a pretty healthy person. I eat what’s proper, and some that’s not (can’t help the brownie loving, or the fact that I love ice cream). I’m human, and I understand that I am.

Besides the looks, I am a pretty smart girl, definitely above average if not closer to the top. I’ve got on the Dean’s list the past few semesters, in fact. And the fact that I’m smart doesn’t get in the way with social skills, but instead embellishes my witty charm. Sometimes, beauty doesn’t give the boon of a good brain, and whether this is because the person doesn’t have the IQ, or because being beautiful never demanded them of using their brain in anything besides smiling and looking pretty, this hasn’t affected the way I live or work in the least. If it helps, I didn’t even consider myself a beauty until much later in my life, as I was a “late bloomer.” According to Hollywood, this means I am perfect in deserving the world, and the boy. And the only thing Hollywood lies about is the fact that when you shoot something, that doesn’t deem it worthy of blowing up.

In addition, having a sense of humor means that I love to laugh. “Laughter is the best medicine.” Though this may not be so true for curing, it’s definitely the best for having a healthy mind and heart. I even laugh at myself, which is the most important laughter of all. After all, it is said to never “take yourself seriously. No one else does.” And, yet again, I find myself with a niche for seriousness and humor. With as much stress, though positive, this is a much needed aspect in someone who deserves the world.

Now, I understand that everyone has their own definition of what “the world” entails. That some will still, regardless of my reasoning, declare me unworthy of the world. But this does not take away from my deserving it. It also doesn’t take away from me trying to have it. After all, with such deductions as I have said above, one would expect nothing less.

And that's why I deserve the world.

Ideally...

2009-06-17T13:25:00.000-07:00

I would normally try to make an excuse here of how busy I am as a why I have not updated in many weeks.

But I'm not really that busy. I actually have Monday's, Thursday's, and Saturday's off, in which I should probably be writing and sending off papers to my individual study I'm taking, but, instead, I replay old video games I haven't had the chance to beat for some time, watch an old video, sleep... The things I used to do every day when I was a teen.

Ah, to be a teen again. I find it humorous that so long ago, I thought I knew the world, and now that I realize I didn't, I now feel that I know the world. A lesson learned is to be learned over and over again.

But enough about those silly things. I've hashed those principles over and over again, and the only thing they lead me to doing is to enjoy the now and prepare only slightly for the future (because, we all need to be flexible, non?).

But it's that flexibility matter. Throughout my entire life, it will always be. Never mind the need to stretch your muscles, but mind the flexibility of our minds and morals. Of what we choose is correct, and what is not.

Sometimes, I feel like I'm making a list inside of my head in what I feel is okay for me, and for others, to do. I could come up with these graphs, put them on display within my perimeter, allow people to read them before deciding to approach me. Or not to.

I feel at the moment that this would waste less time in my future. Perhaps speed dating isn't all that bad of an idea, if one thinks about having to place everything on the table. Two minutes to interest someone, or get out.

But then, that's just depressing, isn't it?

Instead, we flounder ourselves about, filling out applications via body language and spoken word, hoping and wishing for what we want most out of life. This could be a lover, a friend, to be left alone, to laugh, to smile, or even to kill (in those bad cases).

I've often looked down upon those who put on a facade. Why pretend something you could care less about? But then, there are rules to these unknown games people play daily.

Many of these things can be chalked up to just being polite. For instance: Don't like someone? Don't talk to them. Unless, of course, they talk to you, in which case, be polite, but not too short, because then they'll know something is up. Just as being bored in a conversation--try to listen, but fade out a little to think of something you'd rather be talking about or doing; then, when they seem to be asking you a question, don't bother telling them they weren't interesting enough to keep your attention, but have a non-committed noise come from your mouth, such as "Uh-huh," or "Oh," and possibly "Perhaps," which just indicates that you have your own opinion on the matter, but it's too complicated to really get into at the moment.

That's the blessing of friends, I suppose. Whereas everyone else in the world judges you by a simple look, a friend (a real friend, mind you), is one that only judges at rare times, and does everything else without a question. Yes, they may laugh when you don't want them to, but, in the end, all that matters is that they're still there. A true friend is one that will help hide the body.

I sometimes wonder about my commitment toward these things. Amber, who is more busy than I am, has managed to see me and come bearing gifts (which, by the way, couldn't have held much more of the spirit of who I am--a crocheted blanket, my very own teapot, and The Prince of Dreams, all about Neil Gaiman? I'm so pleased, I could hug you forever!).

I sometimes feel as if I find myself only to lose it as I continue to question my way of living. As I become older, I realize things I wish weren't true. Like giving up certain hobbies because I suddenly only have time for some. Or that you have to do many things you don't like in order to get where you want to be in life, such as a shitty job, or giving up one goal to achieve another.

You can't always get what you want.

Random Fact; But if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need.

Possible Satan Spawn

2009-05-27T07:37:00.001-07:00

Anyone who thinks that Poison Sumac is an act of God, THEY'RE WRONG.

I have summer after summer of proof of this.

Between the tea tree oil, the Ivarest, the having it on your hands and arms and face to make one look like a mid-transformed dragon, and also making usual tasks a difficult feat, I can safely say that this creation was not God. God would never want this suffering upon someone.

I have been thankful that this case of sumac (or ivy, or oak... who the hell cares, it's THERE) hasn't been exactly itchy. The scale is on a low 1-2. However, on the annoying scale, it has received a high 15, over the thought highest peak of 10.

This morning, just as I was about to do a dance because I noticed my face has been becoming normal, I took notice that my hand was worse, and that I had an addition to that arm. My other arm wasn't looking any different, and I realized that my neck portion was probably going to take the longest, as my long hair and sleeping methods don't work as well.

Speaking of sleeping, it has been HELL.

The doctor said that I should sleep with a towel so I don't have to wash my sheets so often. This has proved so uncomfortable that I don't think I'm ever really sleeping. It's uncomfortable on my face, so I move to my back, but I never sleep on my back, so I can't sleep. It's like I'm sleeping on an airplane.

To make matters worse, I still have some scenes to shoot for my documentary, but I look like some raw blow fish. I can barely even edit my movies because moving the mouse and typing will either cause my sumac to become irritated because I'm moving against it, or my arms become sore since I'm holding them up very strategically so nothing gets touched.

Between these, I clean my dorm every day, freaked that something still holds the oils from the plant that did this to me.

I just want to have this over with.

But, per usual, this is only so much in my control.

Random Fact: Urushiol oil (the stuff that gives you a rash) stays active on any surface, including dead plants, for up to 5 years.

Adoration

2009-05-02T23:14:00.000-07:00

I have an unfathomable love for certain men I've chosen to adore throughout my life. Some left as soon as they entered (teenage years had me loving people whom I later realized were for looks, not anything else). But, these are some that I will never shake.

David Bowie

As a friend once said, "David Bowie is like wine... he gets even better with age." I suppose the future will really tell true, but, until then, I will always get goosebumps when I think of his concert (best I've been to so far, hands down). I don't know what else to say. I understand that he's not the greatest actor, but, damn his music just touches my soul. I cannot ever place how much I adore him.

I also think he has a great sense of humor (see Extras).

Jeff Goldblum

He's funny, Jewish, and likes the environment. Whenever I talk about the guy I want in a relationship, my guy friends always use his name to pick on me, saying we were a match made in heaven.

I wish.

Neil Gaiman

This love is a little different. This love started with creativity, where I read a book by him, saw a film based on a book of his, and perked interest. I then found out that he did comics. And I read more of his books. And saw more of his movies.

I would love to shake this man's hand in hopes of ever creating such wonder. He'd be an awesometastic uncle.

Jon Stewart

I don't think I need to explain this.

Well Liked:
Christian Bale - Oddly enough, this was because of Howl's Moving Castle. I respect him now.
Tim Curry - Great actor. Love most of his work.
Dustin Hoffman - Wonderful everything. He makes me want to be an actoress.
Johnny Depp - He made me want to be an actress. Though he started doing films quite regularly now, slightly ruining the effect he once had on me, he still has my heart.
Shigeru Miyamoto - He created Legend of Zelda.
Owen Pallett - Most recent love. His music...
Paul Rudd - It started with Clueless. It's continued with the fact that he was on Friends, and then he appeared in "Wainy Days" in The Pickup. Also, props for Role Models.

Random Fact: These were the only ones I could think of at this time. And the only reason why John Krasinski wasn't on the list was because I've yet to like a movie he is in (but, hot damn, I'd totally date him).

/edit: I forgot to put Will Smith. I don't even know why. I've loved him since the day I saw him on TV.

It's Real

2009-04-27T23:10:00.000-07:00

Today, while I was in the car with Russell, I confided in him that I sometimes think of my car, and how, even after I put on the brake, though it is fully stopped, when I let it go, I know that it would still creep forward at a speed to smack the back end of another car, and leave a nice good mark. "It's weird," I said.

Yet, I feel like I do this with life all the time. I forget to keep a hold on my brake, and so I creep forward, then smack into something, making a dent. Sometimes, I can't afford the repairs. And I move on, hoping that the dents will be fixed, or maybe replaced with a new body.

And I look around and see the damage on everyone else. A dent here. Some paint scratched there. And the price that has to be paid in order to fix it.

In most cases, seeing what everyone else has to repair is when we look at ourselves to manage what we've got.

I see mine.

I see one that is on my right pointer finger. The paint is scuffed where I judge others. Where I compare values. Where I gossip.

Another is a spot on the bottom of my foot, only exposed when I choose so. A little bent out of shape because of being self conscious, about weight, thoughts, situations... This fender bender is fixed most often, just as often as it's re-bent.

At the nape of my neck is a sputtering engine, where I think too much. Two lines from being keyed, from where I put my hands in too deep. Behind my right ear is where I won't listen, the radio that only receives static.

I see a small dent, near my left knee, where I can't love like I once did.

I also see the good things.

My right shoulder, a windshield wiper, holding my sense of humor. The fluid to wash it is my awkwardness.

My left elbow, the door that only shuts if you slam it hard enough, is my ability to give a great hug.

All of my toes hold my intuition (door locks, of course).

My wrists hold my inner beauty, just like a wheel, how it drives the course.

I love my car. Sometimes, I get frustrated; but I wouldn't trade it in for anything. It can still be fixed up, but it's definitely not broken. I'll keep tuning it until I get it right.

Random Fact: No, Mom and Dad, this is not my way of telling you I got in a car accident. It's all a metaphor. Except for the remark on keeping my car--I love my Jeep (I'd totally still pimp it out though).

Summer's Here

2009-04-24T10:36:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, while leaving a driveway, Alex and I saw our first mosquito of the year.

Before I could really say anything much about the fragile being bouncing against the inside of his car, he smacked his hand, and the thing was dead.

He then proceeded to wipe his hand on a hat he had on the dashboard.

"I am never wearing that hat again," I said, looking out the window at my side.

"Whatever, I wash it, like, every time I do laundry," he said, and looked at his fingers to see if there were any more guts. He wiped them on the hat a few more times, then his pants.

I'm never wearing his pants, either.

Random Fact: "Bookkeeper" is the only word in the english language that has 3 letters that consecutively repeat.

This Is The Dream Of Mallory

2009-04-22T15:03:00.000-07:00

Here I am again, weighing the positives against the negatives.

I guess the main question is, am I continuing to be an RA for the right reasons?

With school as it is, things are becoming chores. Things are becoming obligations, rather than "fun ways to build a community."

And my residents deserve someone who will work hard at creating the life they so crave. Where they can throw garbage and not have repercussions. Where mandatory meetings are dreams. Where respect is optional.

Actually, they deserve an RA that causes them to not even want to do any of those things.

I think it may be because I'm twenty-two years old now, and more than half of my floor is nineteen or under. It's not necessarily a wisdom thing, but I'm focusing on myself right now (rightfully so, as I'm graduating next fall).

But it's also the knowledge that I don't get to do what I want to anymore. I can't visit my parents as often as I'd like, I can't make any money, can't go out as often as I'd like (and if I do, I feel guilty because I'm not on my floor), there's the constant worry of how I'm doing academically, physically, emotionally, and how the floor and I are working. All the time.

And every time I look at the pros, I think, "Free room and board. Social atmosphere. Possibly, resume."

I've just lost my passion for it. This summer looks promising, fun, even... But next year? I could go back and forth on what I actually want to do for days on end.

And the freedom.

But I also know that you get out of the job what you put into the job. It is now whether or not I want to continue to put in. I already feel as if I've dissipated--it's the end of the year, again, so I'm working hard on projects, getting sleep, and studying, just like the other students. Perhaps they forget that I am a person, too?

However, next year will have me in an entirely different building.

What I want is to work on my projects, and have other time to do what I love as well. I'd like to be able to help others, but know that I can help me when the time needs it as well. I want to be the person I love all of the time, not most of it.

I need to know what's right.

I need to think this out all over again...

Random Facts: Being an RA, whether you enjoy the job or not, is a huge challenge in-of itself.

What I'd Rather Do

2009-04-04T21:57:00.000-07:00

Despite the happenstances I've been in the recent, I am fairly happy. I'll blame it on the great atmosphere I've been blessed with.

It's a tough thing, being positive. I remember a specific time in my life when I didn't think anything could be harder. I didn't get it. I'd forgotten my entire past of being able to manage, and the future seemed unbearable. The people who were positive either had better luck than me, or were fake.

It's amazing what a mindset can do to alter one's perceptions.

A few days ago, I found out I wasn't eligible for a free tuition/room/board program. Not because I had too much money, not because I wasn't getting good grades, not because I was anything. Except that the profession I decided to go into wasn't "needed." Other people who aren't financially in debt, or already hurting in money as it is, are getting this program, but because I am going into a writing industry, and working with film, I am not needed within our workforce.

My last four years at college rushed to me. My love of what I'm going for suddenly seemed like a hobby. My worst fears about what I wanted to do with my life were right in front of my face.

What if I don't get the job I need and I end up a waitress/video game seller for life? What if I do get a job with what I love, but I can't ever make ends meet, and I'm forever working and never having a life? What the fuck am I going to do after college if even a workforce won't take the time to deal with me?

I allowed myself about ten minutes to mope. I called my father and chatted with him for awhile, and, as usual, he helped me open my eyes at how blessed I was--at least this wasn't a dire situation, where I was dependent on it in order to finish college. At least I will be happy with what I've accomplished.

I remember in Jr. High, we were talking in class and had an extra ten minutes. We were told to take out a piece of paper and answer a few questions. One was "Where will you be in ten years?" I put, "Happy." I wasn't stupid. I get the question. It's supposed to be a time when you write out your dreams of where you hope to be. But I figure that I can cheat the system. If I put happy, then it doesn't matter what I'm doing, because I'll be glad at where I am.

Back in those days, I thought of how easy it was to be happy. I had a great family, home, friends... And after adding more of what life has to offer to the equation, it was easy to forget all of those things and get lost. I'm not going to lie, I was lost for a while.

New Zealand helped me find myself again.

My parents and brother helped me (probably without their knowledge), and I have never felt as close to them all as I do now, and it keeps getting better.

New friends, new experiences, new thoughts and ideas...

I could have allowed so many things ruin my chances. I've always bounced back. A workforce that says I'm not "needed" isn't going to change anything. All that means is that everyone else is going to have to watch out, because I'm great at what I do.

And after college, I'm going to prove that.

Random Fact: A snail can crawl across a razor blade without getting injured. This is possible because they excrete a slime that protects them.

Hopes, Dreams, Elephants...

2009-03-30T09:05:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, I am overwhelmed by music and the written word. I feel such an emotion that I can't even begin to explain to someone without feeling embarrassed, or stupid. The emotion bubbles up inside, my eyes stinging.

Songs I had heard my entire life, I'm suddenly listening.

Words I have seen, I'm reading, comprehending.

Later, I go back to these things, in search of why. But they are simply words again, song again.

Instead, they are memories. I listen to or read them over and over again, in hopes to have that same connection I had for those few precious moments. And I think back to the time when I was one with that moment.

In fear of being too sensitive, I'll never mention these moments to anyone. Just acknowledge that it happened.

My own personal secret for each book and song.

Random Fact: Los Angeles’ full name is “El Pueblo de Nuestra Senora la Reina de los Angeles de Porciuncula.”

In Lieu of My Brother's Blog

2009-03-29T21:15:00.000-07:00

As many of you know, I work at Gamestop. Since my freshman year of college. I didn't expect to leave and come back so many times, but I've come to terms. I like the people I work with, I enjoy the atmosphere (most of the time), and I also like the perks (video games everywhere, playing video games when it's not busy, swag, and getting to talk about video games).

However, the above image is a close image to what type of cheap-ass-shit-eating-piece-of-metal-that-actually-spreads-dirt-for-a-business vacuum we use. It is also the bane of my existence at Gamestop.

The fights we've had. There's no doubt, either--it always wins.

And so, this is how I win. By grading it via like my brother.

Appearance

I will admit that there are some slight differences from this vacuum to the one I use at Gamestop. First, the one at Gamestop sucks my soul from me as well as air. However, it also has a bag instead of that hard plastic, and is black. The only other difference is that the plug is, amazingly, 21st century.

The convenience of it is that after you bend multiple times to unwrap the ungodly cord, then plug it in, you don't have to bend again to turn in on. Instead, you place your foot on a large, round black button, then press with nice pressure to turn on.

Though vintage looking, it looks hardy, ready for work. The grip of the handle says, "You won't want to let go." The mouth of the vacuum seems to be all action. It has attitude.

With all it's simplicity, even a zombie brought to life could understand how to make this baby purr. Me-ow.

Performance

This is where I say that looks are deceiving. Very deceiving. Deceiving in a way that has you look at a guy across the way whilst it's raining, your glasses fogged and wet. You think, "Gosh, look at his hair! And the way he holds himself! Even John Krasinski can't compare!" Then you decide to get closer, let him see you. Perhaps this is the moment! The one every woman has waited for, the proof that true, instant love exists!

And you get this.

If that's true love, I'm a nun. Well, converting to one, anyway.

Everything plugs in just fine. Never a shock, and always smooth. And when you turn the piece-of-degrading-manure-as-it-lives machine, it doesn't even pause, as if to give you hope.

It's the movements that really confuse it, as it would any vacuum. They really should come up with something that doesn't spit out the dirt it just picked up when moving forward and back. Oh, wait? Is that the definition of a vacuum? Then I wonder what the definition of this would be? A lying-air-befouling-slice-of-hell? On wheels? Sounds about right.

As it moves forward and around, it picks up the salt crystals customers brought in. The dirt and dust that's collected for the past week, even month at times. You smile as you look at the small area of carpet, void of the pesky lint that collects from people emptying their pockets of money to buy an over-priced video game. And as you step forward, you hear a small crunch under your feet.

Looking at your shoes, you realize that every time that pus-gurgling-boil moved back, all of the dirt shot back at you as if it were confetti at a surprise birthday party. Only the party was a bad act at a talent show. And the confetti was the black paint someone threw on you in order to embarrass you off the stage so the world would never see your interpretation of "My Humps" by Fergie (as if it weren't terrible enough as it is).

This vacuum couldn't pick up ass if it were a donkey.

Durability/Re-usability

I at first thought that this piece-of-shit vacuum was the same one from my earlier days at Gamestop. It looked the same, felt the same, cleaned the same... When I mentioned to a co-worker a few months back about us investing in a new one, he laughed and said they'd replaced it just that year.

After much consideration, this is my conclusion, the only concept that must be correct: many years ago, in the creation of a corporation that would not only make millions of dollars, but help some gamers save a few bucks in the process, the leader of the shop saw an ad in the paper for a vacuum. "New!" it said, in a "Pow!" "Smack!" kinda way. "It's the best! The only vacuum that is not only fashionable, but says 'I know how to vacuum!'!" The GM of the organization about fainted from those words and thought, "I won't buy just one, but a whole shop filled with them. Nay! I'll buy the company itself!"

After the company crashed, as the vacuums turned out to be total crap, the penny-pincher corporation we know Gamestop to be couldn't bare to toss what he spent so much money on in the past.

Thus, every time a vacuum sputters to its death (because we're forced to continue to use them, despite it not working otherwise), the replacement comes from a warehouse, far away. Probably in Area-51, next to an arc.

The Bottom Line

Buy a freaking new vacuum, Mike.

Random Fact: Today, Hoover is probably best known for its Wind Tunnel line of vacuums, which includes uprights, bagless and steam extractors. Sounds fancy. (Hint, hint).

Where's The Adventure?

2009-03-18T22:36:00.000-07:00

I've often wondered why my life couldn't be more exciting like a fantasy novel, or even sci-fi.

I feel as if God hears these thoughts as prayers and says, "Exciting?", forgetting the most important part about dragons and vampires and magic and a land of Narnia.

Instead, he complicates my life by allowing me to go through it with a sore throat and sleepless nights. I then think, "You forgot my dragons and vampires and magic and a land of Narnia."

Then I realize God has selective hearing.

Figures.

Information

2009-03-18T19:50:00.000-07:00

When I'm given information, at times, I sit back and take in what is said and how it's received. I start to contemplate how I should go about things, and if it makes a difference in my life. Like a ripple on water, how far away am I that I should feel the nudge?

I started Impact of Technology today. I don't know why I decided to take it, now that I've taken notes and realized that the whole class will be of us looking in the past, then looking in the future, and, in my opinion, fucking it up traditionally and taking away our appreciation for what is around us.

I think it only hit home because we were talking about books, which I have found to be a sacred commodity. It started with my parents reading to me. My father, never to be outdone by another (my thoughts, not his), used to read us every book with great character; The Contests at Cowlick; Yertle the Turtle; and, a personal favorite (my dad can do voices quite well) There's a Monster at the End of This Book.

When I first heard about reading books on the internet, I thought, LAME. Then, WOWIO came into my life, and I thought it was grand, since they were free. However, I didn't like to read them on the net. I loved getting the webcomics and other comics in general. However, actually getting Jane Austen books and other such things, I wasn't too impressed. My eyes would hurt, and I couldn't cuddle my computer in bed. A computer gets hot. A book, I can read at all angles, too.

So, when the Kindle came out, I was mightily unimpressed.

Then, I realized how impressed everyone else was with it. Whether people actually are, or the people are getting paid to talk great about it, the idea of an electronic book is becoming an even greater idea to others than I thought possible.

My first instinct is to think, "Well, at least people are reading and becoming more literate! Lord knows we need it!"

But people aren't. Instead, they listen to the books, if they ever decide to read it. As we discussed in class today, I heard more than once the whispers of people saying how they'd like the book so they could say they read it, but really have fallen asleep to it.

I suddenly saw the future: We sit at our tables for class, scan a fingerprint, and all of our books, notes, everything is brought forth on the table, a large scale Kindle. They already have talked about the technology for a while now.

But doesn't that take away from the tradition and beauty of a book? They both have their bad sides. Just to name a few...

Kindle: Runs out of battery, fragile, no personality.

Book: Need a light to read, pages rip.

But there's just so much more to a book! The smell, the feel, the look... I love to read books that have creases, as it means it's been read over and over... A Kindle gets scratched and smudged. You don't have to wait for the page to load with a book--you just turn it. There's nothing like it.

I've always dreamed of having my own library like in Beauty and the Beast. I love putting my things on display, having people get caught up in the knowledge they portray. I could lose myself in a used book store for days, much less an actual book company. Most people read a book and they're finished--I've read so many of my books multiple times, I could write my own trivia games. You could say this is a passion of mine.

Instead, I find myself alone with this passion with many people--instead of wanting to feel the page, they feel screens. Or not even--many just listen to it, opting that reading is "too hard."

Literacy is becoming like math. Math is to using a calculator as reading is to never seeing the word, but listening to it. I'd like to say "At least their reading a book." But are they?

My intuition says to stay as far away from this as possible. I feel old, all of a sudden. It's a pure refusal to want to give in. Perhaps it's a fear of what else may happen if it kicks off well. Let's face it--nothing else stopped, and now we're dealing with so many other issues because of technology-without-thought.

"The most elegant feature of a physical book is that it disappears while you're reading. Immersed in the author's world and ideas, you don't notic a book's glue, the stitching, or ink. Our top design objective was to make Kindle disappear--just like a physical book--so you can get lost in your reading, not the technology." Amazon.com.

But it does get lost in the technology. Kindle doesn't have the paintings on the front cover. Kindle can't have signatures from the author. And, despite the pictures, you wouldn't bring your Kindle to the beach. That's like bringing sand and dumping it on your laptop--just wrong.

Maybe I'm more angry at the fact that not only tradition but appreciation for the things in our lives are so easily taken away without my generation really questioning the word. It's whatever is easy and out of our eyes now.

All I know is that Kindle will never compare to the undownloadable physical book. Not with style or personal touch.

Ever.

Random Fact: In medieval days, paper was made from animal skin. I'd kill to touch one of those books.

Lay Back, Relax

2009-03-17T20:52:00.000-07:00

On a Tuesday night, I will never starve.

By starve, I mean with meals. By starve, I mean with friendship. By starve, I mean with laughter. By starve, I mean with contentment.

I love being spontaneous.

But Tuesday is my night. It's our night. A night with specifics as to meal, relaxation, and nothing more. The only expectations are to be there by 6:30p.m.

I've never had something become dependable so quickly.

And the food is always good.

Random Fact: Aya is having a baby! How exciting!!!

Text Messaging...

2008-12-11T09:11:00.000-08:00

...can die.

I know this is supposed to be our little generations "thing" and all, but, to be honest, I really just dislike how impersonal it is. I mean, there was a small amount of personal feelings gone when email came out, but I can look over that thought of people not being able to write with their own two hands and instead type because, let's face it, some people just don't have good handwriting.

But texting has caused the worst in people--starting with literacy. If you don't believe me, go to the Writing Center at your nearest college, or type your text into your nearest computer's note pad and click "check spelling," which will, apparently tell you of grammar.

Maybe it's the whole time factor I've been tugging against since the day my mother told me, "Congratulations! You're now a woman!" when I didn't want to grow up (wait... I still don't...). People want to save those extra two seconds by pressing 'u' rather than typing out 'you.' I get ya! I mean, in those spare half-seconds, way longer down the road, when they've all collaborated... Ah, yes. Two more extra minutes to... what? Appreciate the world around us for what it is? If that were the case, texting wouldn't be so popular, much less have been invented.

In order to have a more positive outlook on texting, I did my best to at least make the sound a happy perk--the sound of Link taking out a treasure from a chest.

It didn't work.

Instead, I feel as if I'm constantly reminded that people would rather show me their inability to spell skills than talk to me face-to-face (or at least voice to voice... Though they cannot spell a word, I'm assuming as much that they can say the word, or else they wouldn't even try to mutilate it).

And, can I just say this right now? I hate when people write one worded questions/answers in text. All I can think about is, "Did that just cost me ten cents? I think that just cost me ten cents. Those bastards!"

But what I think I really hate most is when I'm talking to a person who can't seem to stop checking their phone to see if they have any texts. The social life in front of them isn't as important as the fake one through phones and Facebook, I guess. A world where no one has to see anyone, unless it's in a video or picture. I guess it's great for me, for the business I'm pursuing. But a bit sucky for relationships.

Sorry, boys. I'm interested in a man who's confident in his ability to see me face on. Tough luck, for most of you.

I suppose I'm being a little harsh on the subject. I mean, this gives so many people different ways to communicate, whether they're deaf or just have a hard time socializing. It also allows people to multitask, talking to three people at once, just like instant messaging, but on the go! And I guess I'm just a hypocrite, seeing as I use the internet consistently, even updating a blog and twitter.

But, seriously? Really? If I get texted 'k' one more time...

Random Fact: Giraffes have no vocal chords

For Super Cereal

2008-12-01T20:43:00.000-08:00

Relationships have always seemed to deem more important to me than much else in the world--sad, but true, no matter how I place it. I can try to explain that I can honestly tell you what I find more important and less important, what distracts me or not, during a time of me needing to study or do what I need to do in life. However, no matter how I try to describe it, I will come off as someone who seems to find what others do more important than what I do.

When I realized this factor only matters in what I've decided to do since that moment, and whether I have done any progress to better fine tune myself so I may live my own life, whilst also caring for what I care for.

Never have I felt so swept away with emotion than of the late, at least to a point of not knowing what to do and finally deciding that all I can really do is to not do anything until I come up with a better plan.

Despite what the above writing leans toward, I don't like drama. I try to avoid it at all costs. However, this semester finds me inexplicably, practically, married to it. If I choose the path of gossip, I am apart of a crowd, constantly falling over myself as I find words leaving my mouth before I can stop myself, which I end up hating later. If I go the path I have chosen more my past, I do a lot more fake smiling, nodding and being more myself, yet not as close with the staff.

I've been going toward the more studious path (secret number 3), which not only includes being alone more often, but trying to do things that will at least further me in my career. As I should be. But, I'm willing to face it--I let these things concern me for distraction. Else wise, I'm sure things would be so boring, such as over summer, that I'd find something else to complain about.

And the dances I swore not to dance? Suddenly, I find myself within a whole new realm of dancing I hadn't thought possible. It's as if I deleted a folder on my desktop, only to realize that the main hardware has yet to be completely uninstalled. Or perhaps this metaphor should go towards more of a virus that, when you think it's gone, it's really still lurking behind every icon you click on.

I guess I just wish that I could make my decisions at the moment, rather than a good few hours later. Amber says that it's something that no one has actually mastered. I beg to differ, but who am I to say the word?

Random Fact: The number one fear of Americans is public speaking. Number two is death.

Can't Give Me What I Want

2008-11-24T13:23:00.001-08:00

As some of you may know, someone stepped on my MP3 player last week, causing the screen to crack. The player still works, but I can't see where I'm going. I usually end up just listening to my playlists, which is great, but I dislike because I have so much more music to listen to.

Curious, I went to the Philip's GoGear site to see if they continued to make my MP3. Though I've had it since Freshman year of college, I thought that perhaps they had an upgraded version, or perhaps some kind of cool policy of trading in my old one for a new. If it had 30G for memory, I didn't really care. I have a lot of music I wanna listen to. I love shuffling through my old music.

Did you know that you can't just get a normal MP3 anymore? At least, not through the internet. It has playing video, talking on the phone, playing video games...

I've decided.

I just want a freaking 50G MP3 Player. I don't need a video player. I don't need it to play video games. I don't need it to make phone calls. I need a freaking MP3 Player right freaking now.

I already have things that do all of the above. Just because it has more doesn't mean it's better.

So, I've gone through some looking. And I think that, through process of elimination, Creative Zen is my best bet for being happy. I know they're good, they have the gigabyte quality, I don't hafta use freaking ITunes, and a little birdie told me that I can actually use an SD card to have even more memory, if I need it. I don't want pictures on my MP3, but maybe if I could just swap the SD card from my camera to that... possibilities.

However, this year doesn't consist of that for gift possibilities. I'm looking at HDR-SR11 60GB High Definition Handycam® Camcorder. Or maybe Sony's 5.0MP Handycam High-Definition Camcorder. I'm really liking that it will record straight to the device, rather than me investing even more money into something. Perhaps I'll just go get a 5.0MP Handycam High-Definition Camcorder.

If only I could afford it all...

As for other aspects, I have to learn that patience is key. I can't control the universe. But, for fuck's sake, I certainly wish I could.

A life of bad timing is the worst. At least that of which couldn't happen won't have the bad twist in it's entirety--being home will be a blessing of it's own.

Random Fact: The only word in English with three consequtive S's is "godessship".

Half-Gallon O' Pop

2008-11-20T00:10:00.000-08:00

On Saturday, Amber allowed me to join her on her way to her home-town, in which we were to make 12 batches of candy from scratch.

We wore fancy smocks. We sang all types of music. We laughed and had a great time. We topped the night off, as well.

What you are staring at is a half-gallon of A&W Root Beer.

Allow me to explain.

After our long day of sweets, we had our pizza and pasta, then we went along our way back home, as I couldn't be staying past a certain hour--I have a job to come back to. Thus, we were driving past an A&W around the mark of closing. We were thirsty.

Making our way into the building, we stared at what they had. We were stuffed to the bone, but still really thirsty.

Regular: 1.50
Large: 1.99
Half-Gallon: 2.99
Gallon: 3.99

A gallon would have been too much to hold onto. A large soda felt pretty cheap next to a half-gallon.

So, we put two straws together, stuck them in the container and drank the nectar of the Gods.

I still have some in my fridge.

Random Fact: There are 66 million different possible pizza combinations on the Domino's pizza menu. Which one do I want to choose?

Still Busy

2008-11-06T09:04:00.001-08:00

The past couple of days has found me... rather happy. Despite the crap that happens, when I stare off into space, I'll come back to Earth and realize there's a smile smacked on my face. For no reason to explain except that I am in the true, honest-to-God Happiness that hasn't been here for ages.

It's almost as if I'm in love.

I just can't wait to see this wonderful change that is going to be happening. I am apart of our change, and it's the best feeling in the world.

I am surprised about the ban on Gay Marriage in California, Arizona and Florida, however. I never thought it would actually go through. And if we're banning that, does this mean we have to make sure gay people can still vote? All of it is ridiculous in my eyes--two people in love deserve just as much as the next. During a time when we should all be coming together, we're struggling to make sure we aren't--at least, that's how it feels at times.

The rain we've been having these days has just been a thought to me as if we're cleansing. Since the night of the election, it's been thunderstorms, then cool rain pouring upon our heads, but the weather initially warm. I feel so calm, despite the wariness surrounding me. I hadn't realized how much the election was affecting me.

And now that it's over, I feel as if there's been a great lift on my shoulders, from all around. There's no class next Tuesday, no homework for over the weekend really, Thanksgiving is coming up... And though I'm On Duty for Friday and Saturday, I'm just looking at it as time to catch up on some hardcore gaming. I rented Prince of Persia: Sands of Time from Gamestop, but I didn't finish it--but I want to get Warrior Within, next.

I'm even caught up on sleep. For the Gods' sake, I am actually sleeping well.

I have time to catch up on things I couldn't. I have some True Blood to watch (which I will get Amber on, since she's reading my Vampire series), an episode of The Office to watch (since there was an event I had to go to, and missed half of it)... and the stupid nerdy/love for vampire me is getting sadly excited for Twilight. I can't help it. What is it about things that can't possibly exist that rise my curiosity? Blah.

In other news, it has been set that I will graduate next Fall. After setting the classes and figuring out what's what, I'll finally be done. It's the most exhilarating feeling... I'm scared out of my wits, yet so relieved to finally be done... And there's so much to think about. Where to live next year, what to do with my life, whether to go for my MFA, internships... I still have my senior project to finish, too, which I'm starting next semester. Plus, my minor in Mass Comm (or will I make it a major if I'm getting my MFA somewhere else?).

There is so much to consider, thinking all at once can overwhelm--but I know that the next few weeks will have me searching for new places to go whilst remembering our new president and what else is being held for me in the future.

It's interesting. I spent so much of my life trying to prove to myself that I can do this, that I can be on my own without any guidance... yet, I'm afraid to let go of the hands that are pushing me to do so as well. So much opportunity, and with all the travel I want to do, now that we're starting new in America, I don't want to leave--I want to be apart of what happens. History, the thing I once hated, now is something that almost consumes me, as I'm apart of it.

There's a lot to think about--and all of it is actually in the positive. Who can say they have too many good choices to choose from?

Random Fact: On average, 12 newborns will be given to the wrong parents every day. I hope not to take home.

Finally Good

2008-11-06T07:37:00.000-08:00

After the election. After the stogie. After the party. After the hugs and screams.

After that feeling inside of me, and the realization that I was proud, and things were going to change.

I went back to my room, sat and wondered what was next.

Then, I placed a CD in my player, hit play, and lay back to lavish in the idea that, yes, things were going to finally be okay.

Random Fact: President Barack Obama is the elected 44th president.

Write

2008-11-03T12:41:00.001-08:00

Last night, on a whim of wondering, I took a few of my old notebooks to bed from last year, two of random, one for a writing class.

This is the first time that I have looked back at myself as a writer and was impressed. Some of you out there have told me over and over about how good of a writer I am, but I disagree--there are many out there who do this same thing, and I never really see how I have something better.

But I was impressed. I see how I've changed, but not necessarily for the better or worse. I look at the things from two years ago and realize that I used to write everything down. I'd get an idea for an opening line, a scene that crossed my mind for no reason, a character that I had to write a synopsis for, then later would go back and really describe my thoughts.

And now I can barely find time to write a blog, much less write those passing thoughts. Except that I don't have any less time than I once did. So, what happened?

The passion isn't lost. That's for sure. As soon as I read a book or have that extra time, I start thinking as if I'm writing. I start describing things in my head, finding new ways to tell the way a curtain is swaying, or the way I clutter my desk.

I just stopped writing it down, which is a terrible thing for me as a writer to do. I somehow decided that the importance to get those thoughts out for someone else to read wasn't.

And I started reading old material left on my computer, too.

It all really started getting me excited for the next semester--more writing classes. And, hopefully, that means more posting on my part.

Random Facts: The name hippopotamus comes from the Greek words "hippos," meaning horse, and "potamus," meaning river.

Later Than Never

2008-10-22T23:27:00.001-07:00

There are specific reasons why I don't post as often as I should. To be completely honest, it's mostly to do with being a Negative Nancy--you may thank my Mass Media & Society class, most of the time.

There's no wonder people would rather be entertained during this day and age--things are so depressing in our world, it's hard to tell where to begin to make it better. But, the fact of the matter is, it won't be getting better without us paying attention. I'm just afraid of my life being overtaken. Or, should I say, my life being about that, rather than enjoying what life has to offer. God knows how difficult it is to try and do both.

It's actually pretty sad, but a lot of my time isn't spent on the computer too often anymore--at least not for the purposes you'd think. My Tuesdays and Thursdays consist of me on a computer from 8am to 1:30pm... plus, two hours of homework through Dreamweaver. By the time I'm done, I don't have the want to stare into a screen for another how long to write a post, much less see anything else. But, I've also realized how important this thing is, as it keeps me writing and keeps people up-to-date on my life.

And it keeps me up-to-date as well.

I've been having weird dreams in the recent. One was about my mother and I having a huge fight, so bad that every time I passed her in the dream, a few seconds later I'd burst out into tears. I woke up feeling as if I'd spent the entire night crying. The other had me over at Mandikat's house, both me and her mother. I remember showering and getting ready for something, and there was something about books, painting and being depressed about... something. Ha. Interesting dream to all of you, I'm sure.

In the end, I stoked it all up to stress. Between school, being an RA and constant reminders of me being alone in the love department (livable, but it's still there), my dreams are beginning to become more vivid, as I don't get good enough sleep to be normal and not remember them as much. My subconcious sucks, sometimes--I need more dreams with lovely things.

I find that my saving grace in these negative times (shit economy, bad media, terrible democracy, etc.) are the smallest of positive factors. Video games. Good friends and family. Quick hugs. Small things do count. If you don't let them count, what would you have?

I've been watching Extras, as I just bought the two seasons and season finale with the gift cards I realized I had. I'll just place this out as a fact so the rest of the world may know: Ricky Gervais is a fucking genius. If you haven't watched Extras, The Office BBC... even Stardust (best surprise for me ever). He's epic. Brilliant.

On the side news, I've started making scarves for friends this Christmas early, as the cold days have already come. I've finished two of them, and will continue onward, some being hats or mittens depending on request. Amber and I decided to make things for each other out of what we do best, so I'm making her a scarf with leg warmers to match. She's going to use her bead-work to make me something, but I haven't a clue what. She's really good at making earrings, necklaces... spicing up a headband or making a dress for a pow-wow. She had the epiphany today what she was creating, and poked at me a little since I won't know for ages.

I'm excited for the holidays. Friends and family, all together for meals and sharing--Thanksgiving and Christmas have become my favorite holidays because of that.

When I was a child, I absolutely hated having those parties, when practically every person we knew would be over, "celebrating". Destroying what we'd just cleaned up was more how I liked to describe it. I remember cleaning my room for the occasion one year, and two other girls, the destruction crew as I remember them every year, went up into my loft bed and began throwing my books around like candy at some sort of parade. Perhaps that was the moment when I realized I hated people my own age. Maybe just people in general. I'll never really know.

what I do know is that the time was mostly spent with me feeling awkward with adults around, whom only had male children my brother's age. I'd finally yank on my snow gear and grab my sled to go off the jump we'd made earlier. Right next to the snowperson I'd made angry at sexism one year by giving it breasts. And my brother later placed a penis on.

Now, instead of gender confused snowpeople, we gather round because we're all so spread apart by distance. The day is spent creating the meal. The night is spent eating and playing Nintendo Wii. Today, I count my gifts at hearing my parents' voices, Michelle's laughter and stories, Deb's crazy antics and my brother's sense of humor. My favorite Thanksgiving was spending the holiday with my Auntie Egg and Uncle Mike.

I hope that we can all still enjoy the holidays coming up as we used to. The older I get, the more important I find my friends and family to be. To lose any of that... I wouldn't dare think.

Random Fact: About 90% of Americans view themselves as being shy. HA.

Bad Timing

2008-10-08T23:13:00.001-07:00

When I mentioned that being an RA tests my multitasking skills, I certainly meant it. Though I have managed to keep up with going to classes and getting assignments done, I haven't managed to keep some time to myself until this week.

Being around people can really wear you out.

It has been a very filled week. I sometimes feel as if I have different lives at the same time, doing so many things, and I get lost in what I'm doing until I finally take a break and set myself aside to do other matters to get lost in.

A wistful me wonders what it would be like to not have such worries. One that has enough money at all times, that studying wasn't needful and had the social grace to keep up with friends, rather than chat with for thirty minute intervals once every three months. It's an interesting concept, a parallel universe in which that is probably happening. Would I be happier or more depressed? With someone? Liked?

And then I begin to wonder why I even start to think of things as such--I'm here, now, who I am supposed to be. I'm rather sick of thinking of how things could/should be. I want things happening. Now.

This is the time in which I tell you I already know that I'm an impatient person who wants to control what happens. All this really ends up doing is making me anxious and unhappy with the turn of events. What a cycle.

The only worst aspect of this is that I'm getting worse and worse with my sleeping cycle. I'll stay up late and get up early, but I can't seem to get tired enough to just collapse on the bed and sleep early, even with exercise added to the equation.

Instead, I lay and think for a while. I don't actually dream, but "day"dream in my head. I go through conversations I've had and think of odd jokes I've heard throughout the years. I cuddle my pillows, shut my eyes and think of my favorite dreams.

So, I'm being a little melodramatic. It's just that, the longer I'm around this Earth, I begin to realize that normal doesn't exist--not really. Anything we consider to be normal, if you were to take that second look...

From a child, we are told how things are. From parents, from teachers, from friends, from peers, from media... and they're all distorted, because they've all got they're own agenda, and they're not the same as anybody else. Parents, teachers, friends, peers, media... depending where you are, it's all different. And every person will have it differently as well. Complicated system, it is.

But, what I wouldn't do for a deep, fulfilled sleep.

I swear, I will be writing more frequently and about more interesting things in the soon--I just had to write the awkward entry of "I haven't written in a while" to get me started.

Random Fact: Mamihlapinatapai--a look shared by two people with each wishing that the other will initiate something that both desire but which neither one wants to start

To Siblings

2008-09-14T21:19:00.000-07:00

That is a montage my brother and one of his friends made in around 2004 with Halo 2.

My brother and I never had the best of all relationships when I was younger. I mean, it was a typical relationship of brother/sister. Fighting, but still loving.

When I think back, I automatically think to video games. They've always been something we have in common, whether we agree or not about if it's good. I can't even begin to count the number of times I started to play a game and he stormed down the stairs and forced me off the console so he could play instead.

But I never really minded watching him play. Everything was silent, then, except for the noises from the game. The lights were turned off, us cuddled in blankets against pillows (me usually on top of the pool table), eyes focused on the screen--you know, the typical healthy American way. He'd play GoldenEye, Eternal Darkness, Jet Force Gemini... It wasn't until he changed his room to the basement that these moments drifted from my life. At times, I'd make my way down to find him playing in his room, and I'd crawl next to him on his bed and just watch him play his SNES, which I still to this day have never touched (his SNES, anyway).

Xbox came out, he went to college and I to my arts high school... We grew up a lot then, I think.

It was Halo that brought it back. He was always leaving and playing, but he one day suddenly asked me, "Don't you know the plot of Halo?" Thus, the weekend was dedicated to me watching Halo, the first and second. I'm not a first-person-shooter-kinda-gal, so I watched most of it after the first few "chapters," but we played almost all the way through. It wouldn't be until Halo 3 was almost out that I'd get to see that ending.

And now I'm in college while he's down in the cities, making his business. I don't think we've played a game together since before I went to New Zealand, when Mario Party 8 came out. He's out in the big world, making money whilst living in his new home...

I sometimes wonder what I'll do. I'm 21 and not even close to being in his status, as far as I'm concerned. I have no clue about where my job could take me--it seems so random, as I usually am. I'm worried about growing up and what it may entail. I'm worried that what I've chosen to do isn't really "growing up" and that, 10 years down the road, I'll realize that what I'm doing doesn't entail being an adult and I should do something else. Because I won't make enough money. I'll either be doing something in wait to do what I want or I'll be in the job struggling to get to a point where I can be satisfied.

I look at my brother and see success in all aspects, even if he doesn't see it. He's managed to keep friends and not have those stupid huge fights I had. He always got good grades, did a lot of social events, managed money well, now has a well paying job, his own house, travels for business... I mean, I'm not saying he's perfect (fucking far from), but he always had those good points I never managed to grasp. Points I feel I need to make it in the world I feel I'll never fit into.

A few days ago, I gave in and made myself a more professional email. I've never felt so normal, or like a sheep, in my life.

I really miss my brother. I feel that I appreciate him so much more now than I did when I was a kid. His humor, his attributes, his way of thinking... Yet again, due to the force of becoming an adult, whether we want to or not, we're wedged apart by time and money, at least in my aspect. I can't even find time/money to visit Mandikat, let alone my family.

I sometimes feel as if every day takes away a small part of my childhood. It says, "Here's what you can't have anymore. It's time for you to be on your own and make things happen!" But I feel like I can't. Why in the hell would I want to work so hard in life at something I don't want to do if the only real reason why I want to live is so I can be with my friends and family? That's why I work so hard in college for what I want to do. But what if I can't get what I want in my job? I don't want to spend the rest of my life trying to get to that success point, forgetting the great things in life to get there. I'd much rather just have the great things.

Being an RA has tested my skills of multitasking. I love being an RA, yes, but there's no time left to be intimate with anyone, whether that be friends, family, lovers... It's like having a million hobbies, but never having any true time to become the master I want to be. A jack-of-all-trades. At one time, I wanted to be that--but I always wanted to be the best at it all, too.

I probably won't see my brother until October. Then, I'll be seeing my grandparents as well. But I hope I can get in some quality time. Because I wouldn't trade him for anything.

Random Fact: Three years of a person's life is spent on the toilet. Shit.

Never Think For A Second

2008-09-05T22:50:00.000-07:00

I sometimes wonder where the disappointment starts and ends... with me or what I feel the disappointment is coming from?

Most of the time, when I can get away from myself, I can see what I am really disappointed/frustrated/angry/gut-wrenchingly-anxious about. And it's me.

And it works with anything. I'll be angry that a friend is having a great time because I wish I were having a great time, not because they didn't invite me.

We're selfish like that. As selfless as we wish to be, we all want to be included, marveled about and something unique and interesting.

And we're not. Individualism is such a joke. Myspace/Facebook pages? How many people have one that's just so individualized? I'm not the first, or last, person to wear black. To have bangs that get in my eyes. To have cat-eye glasses. To like comedians, watch a youtube clip or read an obscure book.

But I still like to think I have something no one else has. It's hard to believe it, but I try. It'd be depressing to think of how useless things are consistently.

However, I must say, there is a comfort in knowing we aren't alone. Feeling that someone knows where you're coming from. Saying something and having someone agree. Even the most unique person in the world needs someone to agree with.

It's been an oddly tough week for emotions. For everyone. The first few weeks of school is so hopped on wanting to be liked, testing boundaries and balancing out the semester... I'm blessed with being able to not only handle it, but also having the support around me to do so (that includes my residents).

All I hope for this semester is less drama. Especially between staff.

Oh, and sleep. Love sleep.

Random Fact: the average person laughs 13 times a day.

Fwah-bam!

2008-09-02T21:13:00.000-07:00

Do you see that? That, my friends, is General Grievous. And check this out.

You're seeing right. His light sabers glow in the dark.

I'm pretty certain I'm placing this piece of art on my Jeep's dashboard somehow. Seriously. Epic.

You can thank my ARHD, Josh, for the beauty. When he left with Nathan to get some food, I begged them both to get kid's meals so I could have a toy. I was half kidding, which means that I was half serious. But that didn't mean I thought I'd get one. Who knew I'd be lucky enough to get my favorite character from Star Wars?

The desk worker got Boba Fett (though a friend and I argued over dinner about whether it was Jango Fett. I said that the helmet was more Boba, but he pointed out that he took his father's helmet... We never did agree on who he was).

It was a rather good day! I had been slightly worried over Cornelius, the best beta fish on the planet, as he wasn't swimming in his normal sporadic motions, but he perked up after I cleaned his tank and murmured words of love.

The Office season 4 came out today, so we all watched it in the Hall Director's apartment. Though I've watched it several times on the web, there's nothing like being able to actually watch it on television with friends. We all (or maybe it was just me) sighed over Jim and Pam, laughed at Dwight and concurred that Michael makes us all anxious inside whenever he talks.

As for my Jeep, I took all of the towels out of it, washed them, dried them, then placed them back in. I know that the best thing to do is wait for the next sunny day and take the top down, but I can't stand the fact of having a mildewy smelling Jeep in the meantime. I turned it on, and it works, so I've got that going for me, which is nice.

I just can't stop laughing at myself over the matter. Apparently, the conversation went something like this.

Phone rings.

Me: Hello?

Alex: Did you put the top back on your Jeep?

Me: Shit fucker, no!

Hangs up.

I don't remember saying that, but Alex swears to it. My residents then said I ran to the elevators, pressed the button, then ran to the stairs and ran down them instead. All I really remember myself is that the thing was filled with water, the seats only saved because of the covers (which had mini puddles). I laughed when I told Mandikat.

I'm surprised my parents haven't called me about it yet.

As I'm too tired to get into anything more "meaningful," I leave you with this:

Since I don't have kids, I brag about my pets. Mocha and Ellie, the best damn puppies I could ask for. I can't wait to see them again...

Random Fact: Any month that starts on a Sunday will have a Friday the 13th. I was born of Friday the 13th!

Achy-Breaky Heart

2008-09-01T22:06:00.000-07:00

Me: So, I left the top off my Jeep today, and it rained like crazy.

Jesse: Suck.

Me: It's not as bad as I thought it would be. I think some towels and time will make it okay. I just feel dumb.

Jesse: Heh. That's what happens when you take your top off.

Me: ...oh, you're hilarious.

I could see the smirk through the interweb.

Besides me being cocky and leaving the top off the Jeep in a state of non-paying attention, I also get to add to my list forgetting to open the front desk today. My credit is building so high, I can feel it (total sarcasm for those who can't read).

There is no defense, but a slight explanation of being dumb by staying up until the 4am mark the night before. It started as just possibly watching a movie and turned into long conversation/hotseat. I encouraged it, as I don't particularly like horror films/lame thrillers, and it turned out to be a lot of fun, asking questions and learning more about each other. By the time it came to me, it was almost 4, so I squeezed out of the questions because everyone was so tired. I got up thinking it was Sunday, as we didn't have school, and took my time taking a shower, dressing, eating some breakfast with some residents... By 1:00, one of my residents came to me and asked if the front desk would ever open today, and I realized what had happened.

I wasn't the only one who forgot, which makes me feel a smidgen better... but I still wish I had convinced Josh to place me for a couple of hours somewhere. I'd feel less guilty, and more like I was doing the job I'm meant to. Josh is just such a nice guy, though--or maybe he's that mean, letting the guilt lie in so I'll never do it again. Hm.

As it is, I wrote down my schedule yet again to make sure there wouldn't be any more screw ups. I also don't think I'll do anything much else as an apology--I love making scarves or writing letters or making a drawing, but I sometimes don't realize that some people aren't as personable as me. My relationship with Josh reminds me of a boy I met at Perpich my senior year of high school. My huggy personality had me wrapping my arms around him, but the tenseness told me it was too much too soon. That was the moment, the second day in the dorms as a senior, that I realized I needed to take a closer look into other people's personal space. I'd been so used to people being so carefree about it, I forgot that there were people who still had their boundaries. I still do.

As for classes, I have to admit, I'm adoring my Mass Media and Society class. It's particularly fun because of all of the freshmen. For a first class, we've read The Media is the Massage by Marshall McLuhan, whom I adore as well.

I could listen to my teacher all day. His way with words, sense of humor and philosophies are enthralling. I love hearing his concepts, and if I ever find myself disagreeing, I find myself still wanting to hear his reasoning. In the few classes we've had, I've already got high regards.

The just-under-an-hour-class (way too short) has us going on technological determinism, understanding our system so we can survive it and thinking of the terms that Harry Potter isn't magic, but science fiction (best surprise of my life).

I smile so much in the class as I hear people speak their minds, questioning everything. They are looking at themselves and their environments, and the feeling I get when they suddenly look around is amazing. I can literally feel the air crackling with the brains working, between confusion and understanding.

It's classes like these that make things worthwhile.

As for anything else, it's been an intuition kind of week. Mandikat's sister-in-law's water broke, which I couldn't stop squealing over him via phone when I heard the news. However, the next morning, I suddenly woke up, feeling very uncomfortable and heavy hearted. It slowly ebbed, but when I talked to Mandikat later that morning, I found that Jamie had had to have a C-section, and it was a scary moment of whether things were actually going to be alright for both mother and child. Thank the lord, things were fine, but then other emotional things began to happen with my best friend, with some members on staff that I had become close with and myself in general.

I get nervous when I feel anxious for no reason now-a-days. I thought I had come to some great terms with my intuition, but I don't like feeling something when I don't know what's going on. And it sounds dumb when I talk about it, so I tend to keep my mouth shut until I hear something.

I am a firm believer in intuition. We all have that gut instinct that, for some reason, our society doesn't put enough belief on. How many times have you, in general, thought about something for some unknown reason, such as perhaps taking a short cut to work, but then decided the long way was just as fine, only to find out that there's a traffic jam and you're an hour late? The simplicity of, "Oh, I should charge my phone tonight!" but then figuring nothing will matter enough to need it... until you realize that you got stuck in the middle of nowhere, or it dies in the middle of an important conversation.

I've gotten used to taking upon my whims. If I see a pen laying on a table just before I leave for class and think "Oh, I should bring that," I bring it, even if I already have a pen. My chances prove that my neighbor needs to borrow it.

But I think the most underestimated type on intuition is about people.

People talk about how important first impressions are because people aren't dumb. And, sorry, but no matter how well you dress or seem, there is that sense of knowing. It's so easy to pay attention to other's. The soft expression of someone when they think no one is looking, the look behind someone's eyes when they smile... I, personally, can tell in a hug how someone is feeling, and I'm sure it's not that hard if you really pay attention.

Attention. The span really is quite short. I sometimes wonder if reading is now skimming, listening is hearing and looking at is now staring (you know, the glazed look of boredom).

I guess the point is, attention and intuition go hand-in-hand. Looking around at your surroundings, paying attention to not just the skim of what's on the surface, but the more. It's actually a lot more interesting as well.

Random Fact: It’s estimated that at any one time around 0.7% of the world’s population is drunk.

I Forgive

2008-08-28T20:12:00.000-07:00

Today was an achieving day, much better in the comparison to the others this week. For one, I'm down to an annoying cough and maybe some nose blowing, rather than not being able to speak and being utterly weak just walking to and from class. I feel much healthier!

Russell and I finally met up after not seeing each other forever, and it was nice. There's nothing like the comfort of friendship. We made curry whilst singing to Dr. Horrible, then sat and watched the first episode of True Blood.

What can I say about it? It was... different. Seeing something completely from Sookie's point of view, and then going to watching other graphic scenes not within the novel... and then a few changed plot points... It's very different, and not just from the novel sense. The music, the camera work... It's perked my interest, for sure. Though I feel bad for anyone who watches it with me.

I found myself saying, "Whoa, that wasn't in the book!" And it wasn't because of what you would think...

Let's just say there are quite a few graphic scenes I never would have thought of... Russell would say, "Mallory!" and I'd say, "It wasn't in the book, I swear!" The door had to be closed and the volume turned down. Between the scenes that actually happened, and what Sookie would pick out of people's minds (she's telepathic), it was rather.... I'll go with intense.

That's HBO for you.

Of course, scoping out the site I've found them making comic books, merchandise of drink and shirts... I do wish Charlaine Harris were getting more out of the deal. I could just want more for the writers, but, then again, I'm a writer myself.

It looks slightly promising. Since it wasn't what I expected, I'm not ready to praise or degrade it. I'll have to wait for more to come.

I just can't wait to see who they've got for Eric... Bubba will be interesting. I'm also curious at what they'll be mixing all together, since they automatically put in that Katrina already happened (which, in the novels, doesn't happen until one of her more latest in the series, All Together Dead... I'm sure I'll bitch about it later).

As it is, I'm going to catch an early sleep. One class tomorrow, which means I'm going to work my arse off cleaning room, homework and getting my mind organized as well.

Random Fact: On average, 12 newborns will be given to the wrong parents every day. That makes me a little nervous...

All I Really Want...

2008-08-26T18:29:00.000-07:00

...is some sleep, some cuddles, a massage, some hugs, some undemanding friend-time, fixed glasses, clean room & laundry, some money, less stress, more smiles, less clutter and always a little love.

Also, not being sick would be great.

Random Fact: The word “lethologica” describes the state of not being able to remember the word you want. Can you remember that?

New Community

2008-08-25T21:27:00.001-07:00

What a hefty few days that have been going on. I've barely even talked to my parents, let alone my fellow RAs, to show how busy I've been.

A lot of what's been going on has been developing community. Community within the floor, the hall, the classes, the school... Building a community takes freaking forever. Which is amazing, considering it's all so much common sense.

To be honest, I've never considered myself to be really good at making the whole friend thing. I love to laugh, learn about people and hang out, but, for some reason, I'm weary about getting too close. And I think that people can feel that weariness, because I see that when I pull away, they pull away, too. Though intuition can be lost, this small part of our human selves has stuck around.

I do find it sad that I pull away. Perhaps it's the easy way out. It's always easier to just do something else rather than take the time to forge and become someone's friend.

But I don't like forced friendships. I like being real and letting things develop as they should. I hate bouncing in on things uninvited (I take invitations seriously, not only showing that you care for their presence, but you took the time to think about them because the time would be better with them included in on the event). I don't like gossip matters, mostly because if I have anything to say about someone, I'll either say to their face or would tell only one other person in complete confidence because the matter isn't big enough for me to bring to the surface.

And I have the weirdest quirks.

When I watch a movie/show, I like to sit and watch. Sometimes, I'll comment, but, when I do something, I focus.

When I play video games or read a book, I completely blank out anything else around me to a point of, if you ask me a question, don't be surprised to get an answer five-twenty minutes later than when you asked. This also plans into wanting to finish projects when I start them so they actually get done (I don't do that whole slowly-but-surely-work-on-that-paper).

On that note, I also forget very easily. My parents can vouch for the whole Talk-And-Work I can't do. It can be a positive feature to focus on things, but probably not as intent as I can be. I typically will stay on task... with whatever priority I suddenly decide to have.

And I hate interruptions, like a plague. Especially when I can tell that your interrupting to talk more about yourself and aren't hearing anything of what the other person is saying. It's such a respect factor, like showing up on time--are you worth their time or not?

The analyzer I am (the kind that over-thinks and comes to crazy conclusions), it's hard to not take things personally as well. It's sometimes a little too late that I realize not everyone as the same expectations as me. That their common sense meter is different, or lacking. But, even if I were to see the other side, come up with logical reasoning for actions and try to emotionally rationalize myself accordingly, I still find myself relaxing by myself, unwinding without the need of others.

There are very few people in any of my relationships that I feel completely at ease with. I find it a compliment to know that with Mandikat, all I need is to be around her. In high school, I'd go to her room, then we'd do completely different things. She'd play Final Fantasy while I crochet. I'd play Legend of Zelda while she practiced her music or drew. Sometimes, we wouldn't talk for hours. We'd just do our own thing, loving the fact that we didn't have to always be talking or doing something to impress the other. She's just as much my family as my family is, in that sense.

It's times like these that I know I'm blessed with what I have. With my quirks, I've still managed to find some people that I can officially say are with me for the rest of my life.

And it sucks, because those people aren't in close proximity to me in the least. Besides my immediate family, Mandikat's at home, Russell is busy with his hall, Ashley is all the way in Minneapolis, Matt's in another state, Spooner left for the West Coast... What's great is knowing that, when I see them again, nothing will have changed. But it sucks because I wish I had that connection with everybody.

How wonderful would it be to know that being yourself is okay in any situation? No stress over what you say, because everything will be understood. No need to worry about doing something for one another because you know in your soul that whatever you do for them, they would do back, tenfold. And what a feeling to know that a mistake on your end isn't the end of the world with them. The respect is mutual. Comfort is constant. No hard feelings. Nobody left behind.

When I look at most of those relationships, I can say that they are the most effortless. It's no breath on my part to keep those alive, though there can be some bumpy areas. Those special relationships really were sent from above, because we clicked. The understanding, the appreciation, the respect, the comfort... All such different people, and yet we found peace with each other.

What is it within me that can't do this with everyone? Whether it be a lack of quality or feature, on either part, I find it interesting, if not hurtful, not being able to discover this. What a process to know that, not only do you not feel the connection, but neither does the other. And that perhaps you're trying, but the other isn't.

I just love connections. I love sharing ideas, thoughts, stories... those flickers of life really make my day. It's not the need to impress, the forceful shove of information down my throat or how attractive you are... It's the unexpected, with sincerity, laughter... The beauty in the eyes that burst forth the fondness of life they have. That's the spark people talk about.

I hope I can rise out of my own insecurities enough to really become comfortable with people. As much as I claim/feel wonderful with myself, I think there are still a few more things to work on. And I hope that, during that time, I can connect with some more people who can stay in my life forever as well.

Random Fact: A female ferret will die if it goes into heat and cannot find a mate.

Only A Dream?

2008-08-17T20:56:00.000-07:00

Russ-L: So, I had a dream last night that you got a boyfriend.

Me: Sure it wasn't a nightmare?

Russ-L: Well, there was a part where I was being stabbed by a guy, and then I stabbed him back. But you were just in there somewhere. You said, "At first, I went to college not wanting a boyfriend because I was too busy, but now that I have one, it's great!"

Me: You sound like a PSA.... What'd he look like?

Russ-L: I didn't get a good look at him.

Me: This is my possible future husband and you don't remember?!

Russ-L: I remember that I approved.

I then said something to the effect of being happy he approved, then wondering what he did look like (I'd like to know what one of my best guy friends sees me with), and then saying, "Wait, I am to busy for a boyfriend. Like I should even be wondering."

Thinking back over this morning's conversation really did get me wondering. They always say, if you really want something, you'll get it. And it's not that I never wanted a boyfriend--I've obviously tried the route of liking someone, and it just doesn't work for me. At all.

This "season" has me going into it without a care. I want to laugh and not even see the possibilities. My mother, the ever-wanting-her-daughter-to-at-least-go-on-a-date mom, has already asked me if there are any possibilities out there, after catching my twitter comment of being happier single the more I think about it. Though Unrequited Love sucks face, I figure that if I just don't fall in love, nothing will happen, especially when the guy turns out to be a shithead.

I've still yet to be proven wrong, by the way. Just pointing it out.

However, when I replied to her as being sick of the whole scene, and that I don't even wanna test the waters until I'm for sure (which, in all honesty, is a total loop hole for myself--are we ever sure?), and that "they're just people," she had to say:

Mom: I'll take that as a yes.

Me: Nope.

Mom: Yep.

Me: No!

It's not that I'm denying anything. I'm sure my parents wonder about that every day. I've just gone through so much of that filing system, and nothing good comes from it. And I'm sick of wasting my time on something that doesn't work. It's like an expensive video game that sucks--if it breaks, I'm not going to be putting any time/effort into buying another. It sucked. And was expensive. And, even if it were in the clearance aisle, I'm pretty certain I'd just chuckle and say, "We all knew it'd be there someday," and walk on past.

My cynics come from the idea that someone should be confident enough to not give up on me if they really liked me. Not fair, but I stick by it. I do have enough on my plate to choke an incredible hulk. RA, training, classes, residents, writing, video gaming, friends and family... The stress in the air is pretty palpable at times. Adding a boyfriend to the mix... ever seen fireworks explode at a gas station? Neither have I, but I can imagine it would be pretty horrible.

Some would call this giving up. But I seriously am sick of going through the process. Thinking of someone as a constant, like some math problem gone wrong. Double checking, thinking, wondering situations. It becomes such an engrossed, disgusting love novel-esque Lifetime drama that I can only see that I begin to wish I'd never thought of liking a person in the first place. I don't know how my parents did it, or continue to do so. I don't know how anyone does it.

I hope it's like what I always say when someone says they dislike something. "You just haven't found the right one, then." It works for anime, video games, books, art, TV shows, computers, dishes, pets, lotion... even cities. Couldn't Love fall under that category?

I'm just not willing to waste my time. Not anymore. I don't waste my time on bad food, bad video games, bad TV shows or anything else... It's just that, in order to even get to the point of getting the good one, you do have to keep checking it out. I'm just lucky with video games because Gamestop allows me to rent for a few days.

I'm sure people, especially my parents, hate my unthriving luster for a love-life. And you'd figure I'd know by now how "it all works." Freaking everyone is doing it around me. Friends, co-workers, teachers... I'm certain even the freaking leeches in our lake are finding what I can't seem to grasp. It's quite a battle, debating on whether you want a relationship because you want what everyone else has.

And I mean, Jesus, I hate seeing people who absolutely adore another person to the point of looking like a dumbass. I mean, there's a reason why I don't get drunk. I think that's why I don't want to fall in love, either.

I don't want to be:

*the girl always looking around for the guy she likes
*spewing impressive material to... well, impress
*thinking about if I look good or not (it's dramatically time consuming--those five-fifteen minutes could be used for perfectly good Dr. Mario or crocheting or something)
*thinking about a boy when I could be contemplating more on my future, career and creativeness towards what I want that to entail
*trapped

I also don't want to be alone forever.

I think it's kind of like swimming for me. It's all fun and joy until I realize that the real reason why I took the lessons was so then I wouldn't drown when/if I fall from a cruise ship at sea.

I talked to Mandikat after supper today, too. I was almost on the verge of tears, I've missed her so much. Hearing about her yearly trip made me happy, as we talked about the talent show, her family and what we'll do the next time I manage to get to come.

I've always envied how willing she was to put herself out there for hurt, when it comes to love. She dated someone for seven years, is now with another, and has dated a few when she was on breaks with said seven-year-guy, and even had some not-so-good ones before him. with as many tries, like so many of my other friends, I just can't see how it all comes about. What is it inside of a person that makes the bold move to initiate something that could mean forever? And after that heartache is gone, what the hell happens to make you think that you should go through it again?

Inexperience kills me. And I limit myself. But I still haven't found a reason to jump off the bridge. I really can't trust enough, myself or that other person, whomever it may be, to get that close. If I screw up, I'm fine with it--it's me, myself and I. I'll take the blame. But another?

I've always hated the person who screwed up a part of a project for class. A heart is a bit more delicate than a grade for class.

And yet, I can't stop watching it happen. The Office, Disney flicks... I sometimes feel as if I'm making myself watch what I won't allow to happen. Torture via subconcious. We are our own worst enemies.

Random Fact: 53% of women in America would dump their boyfriend if they did not get them anything for Valentine's Day. I also don't want to be that girl.

Fainting Optional

2008-08-13T08:35:00.000-07:00

Anyone like Coheed & Cambria? Anyone understand how wonderfultistic they happen to be, between their lyrics, storytelling and fantabulous riffs? Anyone understand why it's a need to see this?

How freaking awesome. Seriously. I would be blessed if I could not only get the time off, but to use that time for the good of my soul to see that concert. Four days. All four albums. I'd be on a music high for ages.

If-in you need to hear they're stuff, try their Myspace, their website (it plays near the bottom of the page) or, as I always say, buy their album. It's so good, you'll finally realize what your soul was missing.

It's Rock Opera. And they've also got comic books out (with other apparel). It's just... so good. Even my fish, Cornelius, loves when I play the CDs for his little fishy fins to hear.

Cornelius doesn't lie.

Go. Watch goodness unfold.

Guess you know what Mallory will be listening to for the next weeks times twelve. To the billionth power.

Random Fact: The strongest muscle in the human body is the tongue.

New Status

2008-08-11T12:54:00.001-07:00

So, Fall Training starts soon, and I'm pretty excited for it. I'm kind of disappointed at the fact that I can't do as much as I want to because people are cleaning and fixing my floor, but I look at it as a challenge--and the fact that my floor will be nice and pretty by the time people move in.

There's another Mallory in my building, and, to be honest, at first, I was a little apprehensive. The snob inside of me doesn't like the girls with my name. But this Mallory is different, nice even. She's nothing like me, which is a blessing inof itself. If she'd been the tall redhead with glasses like people had been claiming her to be, I would have been worried. As it is, she never wears her glasses and she dyed her hair brownish black.

But besides the RAs moving it, it's been a very subtle week. My car's steering gear was replaced, so it's not acting up anymore, and everything else has been great since then. Nathan and Josh, our new ARHD, have been hanging out and getting things ready, with their great senses of humor.

Our theme is The Office, so everyone got characters. I'm Karen, which I tried to not think of as an insult, but thought I'm probably a lot like and that's probably why I didn't like her character that much. We all wish we were someone else. But I'm okay with it, as it's just a theme.

As long as I don't have someone as a boyfriend who is actually in love with someone else. That'd suck.

Yesterday was my last day at Gamestop for a good week and a half, and then I go strictly to Sundays. It was an odd feeling, though, when a kid handed me seventy bucks for a video game he'd wanted for some time. I'd just gotten groceries for myself, sixty bucks worth, for the next two weeks. One video game is worth my eating for two weeks.

I suddenly could see the worth of my vital needs.

=

And since I've got my studies where they should be, I'm contemplating what to do next. Since screen printing seems to be out of the question (I'm still determined to see if I can get involved), my next step is getting back into choir. I've looked into personal lessons, and also to see if I can join Varsity--but that all depends on when they meet. Since this is an outside thing, my classes are more important. In the irony of going back to roots, here goes for having some extra fun (and getting credits while I'm at it).

Random Fact: The amount of time going into classes and being an RA is proportional to how much of a social life you won't have.

Also

2008-08-05T09:24:00.000-07:00

I had a dream last night about Las Vegas, me and John Corbett. He was nude. Because, for some reason, the hotel I was staying at's pool was nude only.

Awkward?

Just a little.

Random Fact: Swimming or floating in a pool can represent:

* Freedom from your usual limitations, or a desire for it
* Taking a break, or a desire to escape from your responsibilities for a while
* The lifting of a burden
* Recreation, play, or fun

Here I Go Mumbling

2008-08-05T07:51:00.000-07:00

So, I didn't die. My car is good. The radiator is in and working, though it took a day and a morning. My dad, the amazing man he is, made it work. Maybe that's why I enjoy watching Project Runway so much--I've spent my life watching my dad or mom make things happen with what we have, making it work.

So, between car insurance, radiator, tires, gas money and time... I'd hoped to say that it's worth it, but what is worth? I didn't look at any of that as an investment for money. I looked at it as making my car safe, and me whilst driving it.

I've been thinking about "worth" a lot lately. In anything in general. Even last night, I was talking to a friend last night, and we toppled over the topic of how different people are when there's a large group of people, how you can see the change. I clearly can tell when "impress mode" comes into play. But I think that what I hate most about group gatherings is the fact that everybody talks and nobody listens. I'm not talking about four or five friends sitting around and having a good conversation. I mean those party times, where the reason why everything is so loud is because everyone is screaming to let people hear their own voice over another.

And I never really trust how someone is in a group setting. When there is so many people, the want to please is almost unbearable. You can't really find the real person.

The hope is that you meet someone in a group setting, thus creating you to want to speak with them more, then, BAM!, friendship.

I'm just not glamored by the whole event anymore. What once held the prospect of great relationships now holds an annoying sense of falsehood. People in large groups do stupid things, whether it comes to firing off fireworks while drunk or being loud enough to disturb anyone else that isn't within the group.

It's times like these that I wonder where my optimistic behavior went. There was a change from my last year in high school to college, whether it be a disappointment of what I'd hoped would come to be or maybe just so many unexpected things happened that I've become cynical. But at least I'm cynical with a sense of humor.

It just really makes you think. Even the simplest things of what I find to be worth watching a moving in the theatre for. Am I willing to put seven-fifty in your hands to watch, let's say, X-Files or something? Meh. Not really. Maybe I'll wait until Tuesday, when it's only 5 bucks a pop, but, otherwise, no. I'm a starving college student. Unless your graphics/epic-ity will amaze me to no end, I'm sorry, but to the illegal watching through some internet access will be my choice. Otherwise, I won't even bother watching it.

But it's always the better things that aren't on the big screen. It's funny, but even independent films are taking their toll. Remember when Sundance was something that meant Indie/rare? Which usually meant it was good (sometimes, I do wonder why people out there are allowed to hold a camera, and yet here I am, having time limits to have one myself). I should be happy that my little blessed places are becoming bigger, so I don't have to wait for that big film, and so the people who are making those films are getting the credit they deserve. But it's kind of like the cute little tea shop on the corner. Suddenly, everyone realizes how big they are and it's so popular that the charm has left the building since they have to change things to accommodate for the amount of people/status.

And then there's the other side--if there aren't enough people, then they go out of business.

It's a weeding process, really. I put more worth on things, such as good movies, video games, books... If they want me to pay the price, then they should start coming out with things worth what price they want me to pay. I'm not going to pay the price of a cruise when it's a paddle boat.

Random Fact: There are 318,979,564,000 possible combinations of the first four moves in Chess

Here, Fishy Fish!

2008-07-30T23:44:00.000-07:00

Cornelius is pretty much the best damn fish there could ever be.

A beta fish, you'd think he was pretty dumb. But from the first moment I saw him, I knew we were meant to be. He was singled out in that crowd, not paired with another beta and not in a proper container.

And, I don't like to brag, but I can definitely tell he likes me. Besides his normal sights, of staring off from the 7th floor of a dorm, or deciding whether or not the plants I've placed within his bowl are fake, he sees me and follows my every move. Moving my finger around, he follows it, and he trusts that when I point to the top of his bowl, there will be food.

I clean his bowl about once a week, just rinsing it and giving fresh water, and he glub glubs along, but I can tell he appreciates my efforts to make him as comfortable as I can. His fins glow, now.

Is it odd to have such a relationship with a fish? Because I have a small connection, and it will be a sad day when/if he will be no more.

Random Fact: 3% of pet owners give Valentine's gifts to their pets on Valentine's Day. I wonder what I'll be getting Cornelius this year...

Adult And Mature

2008-07-29T14:09:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I know that this will probably negate anything that I have worked towards for the effect of becoming an adult, that I've matured or that I'm, what, a higher up status than most 21-year-olds?

But yesterday, I was shopping for some food for the rest of the week and I started to pass the isle where you get toothbrushes and shampoos and conditioners and lotions and all that jazz, and I thought, "Why not? I need a new toothbrush."

It was an embark for a journey I never knew I'd take.

Do you know how many toothbrushes there are out there? I mean, I thought it would be hard to find a toothpaste, but that was easy when I read the ingredients on the back and just chose the cheapest that was the exact same as the good brand I liked. But a toothbrush? They make these things like they're grails, and if you choose the wrong one--BAM! Crooked, disgusting teeth for life.

Now, I take my teeth seriously. I try to floss, though it usually comes out to once or twice a week (or when I remember...). I brush twice a day, though, and whenever I go to the dentist, I feel like I'm taking a test. They go through my mouth, scraping, cleaning and rinsing, and when they're through, I ask them how I can improve. I ask them all kinds of questions, to the such of 'do whiteners really work' or 'do I need to focus on a part of my teeth for next time'. I'm serious. I like knowing that I have a great smile. It's my favorite feature.

So, walking down this basically full aisle of toothbrushes made me pause. There is an amazing amount of different toothbrushes. And they all want your attention. And they all do different things. Focus on gums or molars or tongue or extra attention for in between the teeth. If these are such a concern, why not put them all on one toothbrush.

And they're expensive. Try finding a good toothbrush under three bucks. The same price as toothpaste, which lasts me a year. A toothbrush I change every few months. I know where the market is.

So, I pulled my knowledge together from the questions I'd asked over the years. Everyone is so worried about keeping clean teeth, yet they don't realize how harsh they are when they have certain brushes. I needed a brush that was in the soft category, something that wouldn't stimulate the gums because it would make them recede... and something fancy, so when I brushed my teeth, I would not only feel accomplished, but in style as well.

I can't begin to really describe how many different shapes and sizes there are of toothbrushes. I remember when there was only one type of electrical toothbrush, and it was white and boring and was basically a mammoth to hold onto. Now there are ones that look like cellphones. But they're too harsh on the mouth, too. I mean, we're a culture that is so worried about saving time, we can't spend a full minute scrubbing our teeth? I want to know how you people take showers (I actually brush my teeth in the shower).

As I was debating on whether or not a wave in the bristles or a criss-cross was better, it caught my attention that at the end of the aisle were more colors, so I sauntered over to see what they had for choice. Power Rangers? Pft. Dora the Explorer? Baby. I searched and searched for a Transformers or Batman, but to no avail (I'm assuming, the small town we are, limited choice). The closest thing I found was a Godzilla/dinosaur, but it wasn't that impressive, as the bristles were smaller than the end of my pinky.

And I thought, 'Why aren't they amusing us adults anymore?' as I made my way back over to the "my size" section. What was wrong with wanting some flash in my toothbrush? Damn straight it's childish, but I think I'd spend more time rubbing those bristles against the enamel of my teeth if I had a grip on, let's say, Link from Legend of Zelda? Or even a Darth Vader. In fact, I'd probably stand in the dorm bathroom brushing for ages just to show off my new bling. It's just as much of an incentive as it is when we were younger. Except we're told to change our tastes from bubblegum to mint. From the tasty Flinstones vitamins to the boring horse pill that will pump us up with the every day minerals we're supposed to be getting from the food we choose not to eat because it's not "tasty" or "appealing". Anything remotely adult-like isn't fun anymore.

Even our shampoo and conditioner. I don't think I've had something to clean my hair with a rubber ducky on top of the cap since the second grade. People wouldn't be so ashamed of having Head & Shoulders or T-Gel or Selsun Blue or anything else scalp related if it had Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles slapped on the cover. In fact, I could see a few co-workers being jealous.

And I'm not talking about stuff that's sold/bought at some specialty store, like the lame lotions at Hot Topic. I want my cocoa butter to have The Little Mermaid, not some brand that doesn't do the job properly and smells like ass. I'm talking good quality shit here.

I ended up getting a purple toothbrush (since I'd had hot pink before), and it had a fancy wavy handle, as well as a slight wave to the bristles.

All of the children ones had too small size of bristles anyway.

Random Fact: Don't brush your tongue

Blissfull Sunshine

2008-07-29T07:32:00.000-07:00

In case anyone is wondering where I've left off, I'll answer that easily--out having an awesome time in the sun.

I've finally managed to run away from my so-called responsibilities for a weekend and spent literally every second I could in the sun. It got hot there, but then I lay out in the sun on the lake to cool off. Seriously. I can still feel the UV rays radiating off my skin, and I swear that doesn't mean I'm crazy-burnt. Or that I have cancer.

But it was a great weekend. When I wasn't in the sun, Tanya and I battled on Guitar Hero III or tried to see who could rock more out on 80's Encore. And then I got to hear family stories, the best kind of stories there are. There is nothing better than hanging with the family for a weekend for the first time. Absolutely nothing can compare to the adventures that come forth from their mouths during these times. Epic tales of stupidity, embarrassment and hilarity. If they were in the form of a type of Pokemon card, I would be collecting them (and I don't even collect anything besides my video games or my sad obsession with scarves).

Of course, all good things must come to and end. As soon as I got back, people were moving in on my floor, including the one below me and the four above me. And by people, I mean Jr. High annoyances. Who think packing the elevator to the max is hilarious, while jumping up and down because, and I quote, "it won't get stuck".

I guess things aren't so bad when it comes to the little ingrates. I guess my greatest hope is that I wasn't that annoying when I was their age.

Though I probably was.

And probably still am.

But it was rather cool yesterday, because they're a marching band. They all set up their practice outside, tapping their drums and brass... The sounds echoed around the residence halls, bouncing and all off beat of each other, but still creating rather omniscient, yet playful, music. When I hear it, I almost forget how loud they are whilst taking showers in the bathrooms, yelling and talking over each other (girls take a while to understand how to listen and take turns talking... some are never cured of this disease). Almost.

However, I'm already having a great week. Plans to float down the Mississippi River on Wednesday with friends, and I'm going home to replace the radiator in my car whilst helping with a bachelor-ette party. And I also will quickly go through some things I want to sell at our Labor Day garage sale. It always makes me nervous when I know my mother is going through my old things. I know that what she decides to sell, I can live without. I'm getting better at deciding those things. But I have this odd feeling of "I never said goodbye!" if she discards it, rather than me. Ah, my sick in-adamant object... thing. Whatever it is that means I respect them as if they are alive.

I also found out that there won't be a show room on my floor next year! It's exciting as hell. I have complained and complained about that thing since the first few weeks of ever getting my job, mostly because we're an all girls floor. I personally like to just wear my towel back and forth from the bathroom, and if there are a few boyfriends around of the girls, I don't mind, especially since I normally know them and they know the whole ordeal of giving a respectful space for those few seconds of walking back to my room.

Tours don't. They gawk, stare, giggle and sometimes make comments. Especially the male population. Which the tour guides don't do anything to discourage. In fact, they completely ignore the situation.

Between many embarrassing situations my girls have gotten into, and getting only half of the times that they have a tour (which are completely inconvenient), I'd mention it every few meetings to see if there was anything else I could do to warn my girls, or to change the tour times. As soon as Nathan became my Hall Director, he asked me about it and I passionately told him my dislike for the whole ordeal. And he changed it.

I told him I'd have a shrine dedicated to him ready by the end of the week.

There have been many items I wanted to comment on, for things I've noticed/observed. Such as bratty little Jr. High kids wonder why they "get no respect" (incident at the movie theatre whilst waiting for Dark Knight movie). But I figure I've already touched on that. So, I'll go instead to pictures.

I love pictures that unintentionally show the true person behind them. I was tickled pink when I saw Ctrl+Alt+Del's Tim Buckley's picture of the original art for his new poster... that had "A Tale of Batman", Red Bull, Warhammer figurines, a couple of bucks and... was that a strategy guide for Metal Gear Solid 4 there? Possibly. Could have been something like a GameInformer, too.

Then again, it's the exact reason why people make fun of you others for always taking pictures of yourself, the same, over and over while making it seem different/new. We're not just making fun of the fact that they are, indeed, the same picture, but that you have the lame-ass posters of Fall Out Boy, unicorns and the "cool" IPhone so strategically placed in every photo you have.

To be honest, a photo could make or break you. There's a reason why there's such a huge deal with the job hunting business and your Myspace/Facebook profile. You could be forty-years-old, charming, wonderful with keeping on task and people skills... but if you've got a picture of you and a friend having a beer, or smoking a cigarette, you could not be hired. Or fired.

I say pay attention more. The prospect of learning something new about someone is much greater than seeing mundane photos of the same thing over and over again. Weed through them and see what you can find. And, if it so deems, feel free to make fun of them, too. No need to feel bashful--they're the ones that posted them on the internet. Lessons can be taught and learned every day.

Random Fact: The only 15 letter word that can be spelled without repeating a letter is uncopyrightable. Though it comes up underlined red through my computer.

You'll Never Catch Me Doing This Again

2008-07-15T20:59:00.000-07:00

Elaborate on your default icon.
A friend wanted a picture of me with my glasses. Whenever I comply, it usually won't be in the way you hoped. I thought it was funny, and I joked that it was supposed to be a head shot for Cosmopolitan, but they hadn't called back to let me know if I'm in. Ha, ha. I am so funny. Seriously.

What's your current relationship status?
Single, and currently loving it. It gets lonely at times, wanting the whole cuddling and someone waiting for you, but it's nice to not have that sort of drama, too. When it comes, it'll come.

Ever have a near-death experience?
Yes, but it'll just worry the parentals to know of it ^_~

Name an obvious quality you have.
I ask questions constantly. The good friends I have not only put up with this, but they always have an answer, no matter how random the question may be.

What's the name of the song that's stuck in your head right now?
I have multiple songs in my head, as I've been playing the same playlist over and over in the past week. I usually keep the songs on the right side of this page up-to-date on my music-in-my-head status.

Any celeb you would marry?
Huh, that's a toughie. I have plenty of celebs I adore (John Krasinski, Dane Cook... sometimes even Orlando Bloom, but that usually means I've had an overload of his romantic looks). I suppose if this were a shotgun wedding, and I had to chose now, John Krasinski. Subject to change, of course.

Who will cut and paste this first?
? You're assuming people read this!

Has anyone ever said you look like a celebrity?
Yes, actually! I've had many people say I look like Kate Winslet, from friends to strangers. Though I've yet to see how I can compare to her, I'll take the compliment--she's amazing!

Do you wear a watch? What kind?
I've tried and always failed--time and I aren't friends. Let's leave it at that.

Do you have anything pierced?
My lobes and top left ear.

Do you have any tattoos?
Two on my left inner ankle. I plan on getting more as I travel.

Do you like pain?
Not saying I like it, but I'm good to go if it happens. I just 'suck it up' because there's always something worse that could happen. And whining about it doesn't help.

Do you like to shop?
I like to shop for things when it's something I really want. Video games, electronics, books, yarn, tea...

What was the last thing you paid for with cash?
Tea tree oil, Lindenflower spray and a fancy white spice grinder (yet still cheap--I'll hopefully get one o' them marble ones, as well as a fancy rice cooker)

What was the last thing you paid for with your credit card?
Part of the present for my mother--the frame for the poem I wrote, and the handmade paper to print it on

What is your desktop background?
It's a black and white photo of Death Valley at night. I sometimes find another picture to put on as a background, but I really like looking at this one.

What is the background on your cell phone?
All in shades of orange, a man break dancing (moving, too) with the background being a bike, helicopter and a boat driving by what I think is the Statue of Liberty. It came with the phone, and whenever I open it, there's a break dance beat for two seconds. My friends and I like to get down before making a call.

Do you like redheads?
Sure! I am half one, myself! In that sense, I mean that I use henna to dye my bangs, for three years now. I've always wanted to be one since I was little (Ah, The Little Mermaid).

Do you know any twins?
Actually, I know quite a few. And though they look alike, they're always completely different.

Do you have any weird relatives?
I think everyone is weird. We're all fucked up in our own ways (and the more you learn, the more fucked up you realize we all are. I love it.)

What was the last movie you watched?
Myster Science Theater 3000: The Movie with my father. "NORMAL VIEW! NORMAL VIIEEEEW!"

What was the last book you read?
Um, I guess that would be Dead to the World. I'm re-reading the series again, though I should be finishing Eclipse or For a Few Demon's More or House of Leaves or Fantasy Gone Wrong...

Is there such a thing as love at first sight, or is it more likely to be "lust at first sight"?
I believe we can feel connections at first sight, whether that be lust or friendship, but real love comes later.

What's your favorite novel?
Favorite series is Southern Vampire by Charlaine Harris right now. Who knows when I'll leave this vampire phase?

When was the last time you visited the street where you first lived?
Um, if we're talking baby, not since we left (my parents don't want to go back to the 'trailer from hell'). If you're talking truly lived, like where I considered I grew up, about a year ago, perhaps. I stopped passing by it because it officially doesn't look like anything I remember.

Do you read your horoscope?
When I remember and am curious, sure! I don't think of it as a way of life, but as a reminder/advice on how to look at a situation. Most of that stuff is the common sense thing we forget to do, as it's staring us in the face every day.

Who's your favourite of the seven dwarves?
I always liked Grumpy--a jerk, but a softy at heart (what does that tell you about my choice of guys, I wonder O.o)

When was the last time you googled your own name?
Phew... two years ago? I think we were told to do it for a class to see what we could come up with on ourselves--all of it was old High School/Jr. High accomplishments. BORING.

What was your favourite subject at school?
I really like my writing classes or anything that has to do with video editing

What was your least favorite subject at school?
Probably math--it's not that I'm not good at it, I just got consistently bored and I usually didn't like my teachers. They'd always go over and over the same problems. I usually got my homework done while we were supposed to be listening to the stupid theories.

Do you like having your photograph taken?
I enjoy making a memory, I suppose. But I'm usually apt to just living in the moment rather than pulling myself away. I'll never be the photojournalist.

What time were you born?
9pm? Later? My mom said it was on a full moon, so it musta been at night sometime.

Ever seriously questioned your sanity?
If you haven't, you may just be insane.

How many phone numbers do you have remembered and can say off the top of your head?
Too many to want to go through right now. When you're an RA, it's easier to have most of them memorized for 'in case' matters.

Can you Limbo?
Fuck no! Limbo is for wimps and communists!!

Have you ever killed your own dinner?
Fish, yes (rule to clean your own fish at a friends' place). Otherwise, I've yet to kill my own deer or cow. Or buffalo.

How long have you been living at your current residence?
Dorms as an RA, seven months about. Where my parents are, three years this summer, I think.

What phobias do you have?
The biggest is losing my parents, brother or someone else close--I've yet to have someone close to me die (besides a pet). Otherwise, I sometimes get claustrophobic. I also think I have a fear of love.

What's your ideal breakfast?
Without thought to food, I love big breakfasts at home. Dad cooking, all of us sauntering over to eat at one table... a great way to start my day!

Food wise? I love anything breakfast food (would have it three times a day!), but I guess French Toast is my favorite. With pomegranate juice, peaches, pineapple, banana, strawberry, raspberry mixed in with muesli... Yum!

Where are you right now?
In my dorm room, looking out at the moon with my peach tea. Practically a nirvana

If you could suddenly get the skill to play any single musical instrument, which would you choose?
Drums. I've already got some guitar and piano. I would totally conquer that hands and feet coordination!

Why do you blog?
To keep myself writing. I sometimes think I don't have anything great to write, but, every once in a while, I'll suddenly realize I wrote something really fantastic, and it keeps me going. I also write so my parents can easily "check up" on me--ah, my faithful readers.

Do you have any prejudices you're willing to acknowledge?
I pretty much think I'm sexist against my own gender. I have a over-love for Jewish people. And if I see an Emo person, god-forbid, I probably don't look impressed.

What's the longest time you've stayed out of the country/where?
Six months in New Zealand.

Do you use ICQ, AOL Buddy list etc...?
Just my GTalk. AOL got boring, MSN never worked... I figure if someone needs to get my attention, I've got a phone to call or an email. I don't even text.

Do you have nightmares frequently?
Not anymore. I haven't had a nightmare since last summer, and those are rare. They usually include the said above fears, but my subconcious gets a little too creative for my likings at times.

If you were another person, would you be friends with you?
I have no fucking clue. Sometimes, I meet someone who I feel is like me and I dislike it, but that's because I feel that my originality is threatened. I usually have no qualms with close friends tacking on traits, but I hate when I've done things for years and the credit goes to someone I've talked to for a week. Sounds pathetic and lame (that's because it is), but flattery can be shown by telling someone you like something about them, not taking it. With that comment, maybe I wouldn't be.

Extra Side Note

2008-07-15T10:54:00.000-07:00

I'm very sad! I forgot to mention that one of my favorite webcomics, Kiwis By Beat: Minus is ending! I have so many favorites of that comic, including Valentine's Day, the start of one of the saddest stories, the ones that shed new light, and the one that thrust the name of this blog (do you see it?).

It makes me sad when such a great comic ends, especially such a creative one. It was cute, tricky, and just plain wonderful. The child in me would have loved to see this in everyday life. Though it's over, I'd highly suggest checking it out for the experience. You'll be a better person because of it.

Bears. Beets. Battlestar Galactica.

2008-07-15T07:58:00.000-07:00

It always happens to me.

The day that I have to get up early to get to work on time is the day I have a fantastic dream about John Krasinski.

I'm not quite sure where it all came from, though I have an idea. I've been recently reading all these crazed shojo-romancy-type manga through the interweb, so my brain must have been on a wavelength of fantastic cuddly love.

That immediately ended with my alarm singing out the theme of the field in Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask.

However, I don't know why John Krasinski made the appearance out of all my celeb choices. Not that I'm complaining; he's adoreable, and, if anything like his character Jim Halpert, I'd gladly date. I'm even more interested in him than Dane Cook at the moment (but that's because his comedy was dropped for me when it was all about sex, rather than actual humor... we know what happens in the bedroom. Stop name dropping old school hits and get on with some actual jokes.) But I guess that's just how the subconcious works.

After taking ten minutes to convince myself that it wasn't worth trying to fall asleep for another half hour to see where my relationship was going to go with Mr. Krasinski (knowing my other dreams, I'm sure he'd break up with me due to my being too young or that we're just too far away from each other to make it work or something to that depressing effect), I made my way to the bathroom and re-dyed my bangs. I had wanted to henna them again last night, but I forgot/got too lazy to remember. So, the rest of the day today, I smell like henna. Or, in other words, like a hippy. Not that I mind. I love that I smell like it for a good week right after my showers. It's become a calming smell.

On the past notes I haven't updated with due to time (i.e. catching up on sleep), Moondance Jam was a lot of fun! Tanya and I danced a lot, and she fell in love with Black Valentine (mainly the bassist). I fell in love with the music I heard, except for Led Zepagain. Sorry, but I can't respect someone "trying to keep the music alive" when they're pretending to actually be the band, rather than actually being the band. Ah, the disappointment.

And my mother's bash was a great success. It was awesome (and a little tiring) to see everyone and chat up. People I hadn't seen for years showed up, and some that I see ever-so-often. My elementary music teacher, Mrs. Johnson, was there, and it was really odd to see her. She stayed the same, but I obviously looked different. When I asked her how she was doing, she said, "I'm good. What's your name?" And when I said, "Mallory," she said, "What's your last name?" I had to explain that I was my mom's daughter (in which they usually guess because we look alike, but not so much since I've gotten the glasses). She looked not only astonished at who I was, but very pleased, especially at what I was doing with my life. I always feel embarrassed when I see an old teacher; they always say, "You'll always do good at whatever you do, you always have." It's a pleased embarrassment, but I'm happy to know that I wasn't a little shit at all times (HA, mom ^_~).

I was a little disappointed at not being able to hang out with my brother more, since he had other work to do (and gas prices are a little much for him to keep trekking up and around the map). My first summer away, and it just feels weird to not be around my family consistently. Though they claim it to be just "same old, same old," there's a sense of homecoming in that. Plus, I've missed my puppies! Ellie has gotten so adorable (I love when she howls!), and Mocha is still my pup of comfort (though it seems as if Ellie takes up my time with wanting to always play).

In news of my return to my university, it's been hectic. Yesterday, I get to my shift in one of the dorms to find out they've re-cored the front door. I was okay to get in with my card, but anyone with a hard key couldn't get into the building, which meant a lot of getting up and going to the door on my part for a while (we can't hold the doors open), and then a lot of apologizing and dealing with unhappy residents. Apparently, the On Duty cell phone wasn't being answered by the patrons who've been holding onto it, and people have been standing outside the doors for more than a half hour, waiting to get into the building. I ended up sending out a mass email for people to be more aware, which, this morning, I was massively thanked by one of the staff, who said she was seeing voice mails every time she'd get the cell phone, and they were getting angry people who were chewing out the wrong people. I had been apprehensive about sending it, as I didn't want people to think about me slacking off since I'd taken the weekend off. Not to brag, but I've seem to have proven my worthy with this working industry, and they really take my opinion into account on matters, which really touches me. I'm one of the few members on staff that the Hall Directors allow me to do more "classified" things that involve privacy, and am one of the first called to do something because they know I do my part.

I just finally feel glad that I'm being noted for my work. Any corporation I've worked with doesn't take the time, and if they do, it's very business-like, as if it's the obvious thing to go above and beyond their minimum work with minimum wage (as if. I will go above and beyond when I know that your company will go above and beyond--which Res Life does). Res Life certainly has some issues with communication, and some in the construction common sense zone, but they certainly don't have any issues will telling their staff how great they are at the job they do. Plus, it's not just a business--it's all friendship.

It'll be a tough day when I finally decide to go out on my own, if only because I would rather eat my own shoe than work my way up a corporate ladder only to be kicked down for "financial reasons." Fuck that shit.

Random Fact: Lightning strikes men about seven times more often than it does women. Suckers.

All I Ever Wanted

2008-07-12T00:02:00.000-07:00

There's something that I learn repeatedly every day, and every time that I learn it, I'm surprised.

Life & Love is never how you expect it to be.

And I mean never.

I'd love to blame movies and all that jazz that blindsides us whilst we're young, to be honest.

But, it's true. People lie, steal, cheat--we all know this, but don't we all still have that exasperation in our voices as we explain how the situation went down? People aren't always what they seem, either. No matter how well you will know a person, there will always be something that will ripple the waters. If you can, you can see that it's a beauty, really.

But, every day, I feel as if I'm learning something about life that I will forever need to hold dear and make sure to use for the rest of it, but then something else comes that negates it and I have to re-learn... The cycle shall continue.

It's really just how I decide to deal with the situation. I find I spend many times in my room, relaxing after working from 6pm until I go to bed. I'll sometimes feel bad, that I'm doing as such, rather than being the social bumblebee that I could be, but I sometimes like it better, to lock my door, get in my comf-ies and be myself. None of that constant chatter, need to pay attention to others or thinking of how others look at me (which, I've become to realize is either too much or not at all). It's just me and what I feel like doing. A control rarely found. Goodness in the role of solitude.

But then there's boredom. I sometimes think that nothing can please me. And when video games seem the same old, I realize that I need to get out more. Such as watching a television show and finding something else to do to release the boredom of watching the show. If I'm finding something to do out of something I decided to do...

My current view on the world isn't necessarily a great one. I hate our corporate, money, selfish behavior... And I feel that this mundane work, sleep, eat will never satisfy me completely. The thrill of travel and not knowing what's next is much more appealing than slowly waiting for age to creep.

But I'm much too tired to really delve into this... I have a Birthday Bash to attend tomorrow!!

Random Fact: My mom is 50!! Woot, woot!

Mon-ey, Mon-ey

2008-07-04T17:34:00.000-07:00

I saw an extremely expensive car today, whilst biking back from Gamestop. And I thought, "Why do they make these things so expensive?"

I meant in the sense that what is the real point of having things expensive besides the want of money? What do I get out of the deal besides a nice shiny new car? It would be nice to have that. A bright red convertible. But what makes us so willing to pay so much for it? The feeling of earning enough money to get it? The hard work involved to get to it?

And I thought of how easy animals get it. They don't pay for a thing and seem completely happy. Is that a positive to being unable to have the capacity to understand these things? Not having to pay for anything and living life basically stress free? They live there lives, doing what they're made to do as nature intended and die. You may think, "Yeah, but it's boring..." But then, aren't we always wondering what our purpose of life is? What we're meant to do? And here are those animals, doing what they're meant to do. They may not be aware of it, but I don't see a sparrow digging around the ground like a mole. Or a fish fixing vacuuming a carpet.

Does this mean we get rewarded if we realize what we're meant to do and continue doing it to the best we can?

I just can't see why things need to be as expensive as they are. Four hundred dollars for a gaming device. Thousands for laptops. Everything is just money, money, money. You'd figure everyone would just get sick of it. It's paper for God's sake. Especially American money--burnable and easily ripped. With such delicate things, you'd figure we'd respect it more and really see the value. And it's so complicated. Values all over the world going up and down. The value of a piece of paper that already has an initial value.

I don't know all of the things of money, so I probably shouldn't have such a strong opinion... But simple is usually best. And here's the simplicity: money only exists because we put such importance on it, and we have problems with giving things to each other/sharing. We're so worried about who gets what and why and when... Even when we're on top of everything, our big noses pop in to see how everyone else is doing, and whether they deserve what they get. Does there need to be reason?

Besides the point, it's 4th of July. The fireworks I saw were epic--though very short, Nathan, my hall director, and I were right under them, looking up in such a way that I felt I was at the IMAX of fireworks. I've never been so close, or felt that I was going to be rained upon with their aftermath. It was a lot of fun.

Afterward, Matt, an old friend, came and played Rock Band with us, all of us wanting to avoid the singing, as we only had one guitar, a drum set and mic to grab for. We all took turns. Though we didn't get to talk much, it was great to see him again. I've always thought that Matt had a fantabulous vocabulary, and I could listen to him tell stories all day. He's "grown" since I've last seen him, which is funny to say, but it's been a year, and he is some years younger than me. We set a lunch date to see each other for sure, just in case we couldn't hang out at other times.

Groups are fun, but it also means that there's very little actual talk time. I'm excited for the prospect to chat.

In lesser news, I am frustrated with my Nintendo Wi-Fi USB Connector, which consistently goes in and out of connection. I don't know if it's my computer or what, but I'm ready to smother something, and soon! I have Dr. Mario to play!

Random Fact: About 18% of Animal owners share their bed with their pet

Wonder No More

2008-07-01T07:09:00.000-07:00

I can't believe I was actually wondering why I wasn't getting good enough sleep. Set aside the fact of hot, groggy weather with no AC, but also add in getting woken up around 6:30-7am thanks to student workers who think that, because they have to get up and do work, they should wake everyone up with slamming beds one floor above me. For crying out loud, I get enough to keep me from sleeping, I don't need the sound of bricks slamming against my door, too.

I'm a twinge crabby, as I'm not feeling 100% up-to-par, and I think it may have to do with the fact of getting small sleep, but also feeling as if I'm being slowly roasted in an oven, my innards boiling in this godforsaken heat with no AC while I'm on the 7th floor. Last night, Tanya, her sister and I jumped in the lake to cool off. And I keep wanting to do fancy stuff with my long hair, but most of that means the hair is on my neck, as I don't want to have my hair up all the time.

I also got a little miffed at Gamestop while talking with my boss. Not so much at him, but just in general. We were talking about how the actors guilds may or may not go on strike, which led to the why, which led to the how, which led to the sales of DVDs, to how "actors need to eat, too", to, inevitably, how they were handling the interweb, with people watching the television shows for free, some people even downloading them.

My boss said that there were a "team of scientists trying to come up with an Internet 2.0" where they could have laws and make people unable to do some of the things they were doing now. I argued that it's the 'world wide web' for a reason, and if they took that away, that'd just be ridiculous, and shouldn't we be more concerned about other things, rather than the idea of getting those few million dollars in their pockets, where they're already rich enough as it is? I didn't say this, but I was thinking "we've got wars, hunger and people going into debt every day, yet we're worrying about how to control everyone on the internet?"

I finally said, "Why do we always do this? Put up laws and stop people from doing things? I mean, it never really works, does it? We made marijuana illegal, and did that stop anyone? I'm pretty sure I smell or see it at least once a week (especially working in retail). It reminds me of Megan, the girl who committed suicide when a fake friend on Myspace belittled her." I've written before on that matter, but I still have to wonder why it's so hard for people to see...

I went on to explain how it's not just supervising your children, but think about it. Every single time something bad happens, we immediately put up a law or barrier to stop it, and we all nod our heads in agreement that that is the right decision--how else would be stop someone from doing something?

Is it really that hard to pay attention? To raise our children with knowledge of what's right and wrong, rather than placing rules and assuming that the rules will have people abide by them? Just because it's a rules doesn't mean that it doesn't need explanation. I mean, if it were enough, we wouldn't have the bible, which explains (I haven't read it, but from what people keep throwing at me) why we should believe in God, and why the ten commandments are so important to live by. And even then, some people don't truly understand, or try to understand.

A silly argument, as this is why I believe it worked so well for me, but my parents didn't just say, "No drugs or alcohol before you're of age! You can't do this and this and this because I said so!" I mean, they used the "I said so" phrase a lot, but that was only when we didn't really listen to their explanations. Besides the point. What I'm trying to say is that they instead said, "Listen, we've had our experiences with drugs and alcohol, and, believe us, you don't want to be involved." Condensed version of what they said, anyway.

And you know what? I believed them. I still do. We have a (forever thankful for this) trusting relationship. Remember that word? Trust? How often can you say you put trust in your kid? Isn't the old saying, "Treat others the way you want to be treated"? That applies to everything. Respect. Trust. Love. If you only give out so much, people aren't stupid--they're going to see through. And it works for the positive aspect, as well. When a teacher decides to drop formalities and be casual, a student is more likely to do the same.

I still stand by the fact that everyone will always be a bit fucked up--it's inevitable, and, to be honest, it gives a sense of interesting life. But you can still be fucked up and have good morals--what do you think Lifetime is?

After I explained my thoughts to my boss (in less words), he didn't really reply, or say much else on the matter. I'm not sure if he agreed or didn't know what to say. I mean, what else can you say? It's a little hard to refute the fact that we could put as much effort that goes into making these "rules" into actually raising our children and making ourselves and society better, making a real difference. And I do believe on some subjects that by making things simpler, we've just made things harder for us in the long run.

Random Facts: non dairy creamer is flammable

Oh, Freaking A, Gross!

2008-06-25T23:46:00.000-07:00

So, tonight, Tanya and I saw how gorgeous the moon looked, and, since I had my camera, we thought, What better time to go to the lake and take some pictures.

As we got closer, the moon looked like a painting, unreal and almost pasted into place. The water was smooth, gentle. Only the slightest ripple showed in the perfect reflection of light.

Following Tanya, as she'd seen some ducks, we went out on the dock and cooed over how cute they were, then marveled at how perfect a scene the moon made.

And then...

Me: Tanya, look over there!
Tanya: What?
Me: That long streaky thing. Is that a fish?
Tanya: I don't see anything.
Me: Seriously, it's out by that shadowy thing... Is it an eel? It's all quivery.
Tanya: We don't have eels.
Me: ...

I shrugged it off since she couldn't see it, and then we turned around to look at the shallower waters by the landing dock--it was filled with them.

Leeches. Stretching out to be half a foot long, at least, quivering along as they swam among the crayfish. Tons of them, grouped together, like some sort of jelly-like colony. Swimming to the surface and flexing along the bottom. They were huge.

I suddenly began describing my old film of Attack of the Giant Leeches, where it was such an old film that the leeches were very obvious in the fact that it was humans dressed up in rubbery costumes that left huge marks on these people's bodies after they'd dragged them off from land and placed them in an underwater cave to feed from later. The not even scary movie placed among not even comparison sized leeches freaked us out.

As we left the docks, me feeling the beautiful moon spoiled by creatures that creep my shit (ugh), I said, "God, I'm going to have nightmares. I mean, I'm all for the sucky blood thing when it comes to the whole vampire thing, but leeches?" I shivered all over, feeling grotesque. "I'm going to have this nightmare where I'll be all lovey-dovey with a vamp, and he'll turn into a leech."

"Yeah, watch," Tanya said, laughing a bit. "He'll lean right into your neck, but when he latches on, you'll realize he's a leech and he'll be all wrapped around your neck and stuff."

And now, I will have nightmares about this. Ugh, seriously. Gross.

I will never swim in this lake. Ever!.

Random Fact: The leech has 32 brains - 31 more than a human. I.E. We're fucked.

La La, How The Life Goes On

2008-06-25T13:11:00.000-07:00

A lot has happened, and yet, it's nothing really out of the ordinary. I've often wondered what makes me type anything out at all, as, though it's fun to go back and see what I did write, it's nothing particularly needful for anyone else.

I saw my brother's new place, helping him move in some items (though I didn't do much). Seeing his house made me excited to get my own, someday. Decorating and making it your own... very appealing. Of course, my mother thought differently:

Mom: I hope you're out of your crazy phase when you get your own home.
Me: Crazy phase?
Mom: Yeah, funky-crazy phase.
Me: I'm... funky-crazy?
Mom: You don't think so?
Me: You do?
Mom: You don't?
Me: ...I guess I thought I'd calmed down since I'm 21.
Mom: Nope.
Me: Apparently not.

Our own perspective of ourselves is always disproportionate to what we really are. I think I've always found things to be different and weird, and I always figured that there were weirder/funkier/crazier people than me.

But then I thought about it. If I did get a home, what would I end up doing? Given, this will be many years down the road (along with marriage and all that other grown-up crap I don't intend to involve myself with until way in the future), but it was an interesting thought to me.

I know I want vivid colors, considering I have to look at it every day. Violet for my room, probably. Blues in the master bath. It'd be nice to have a nice brown with light pink for the regular bathroom everyone else could use (depends on if I decide that's too girly, though). I would like a deep red for the living room, and probably black accents, or maybe to make it more of a country home, a turquoise with all natural wood. The kitchen would really be the hardest. It seems all too easy to say "Let's go with yellow." I really don't want yellow. Any type of it. Maybe orange, or a sunset red (oooo, with dark stained wood!).

Anyway, it just made me excited for the part of the future that scares me--the eventuality that I will, indeed, be on my own and "grown up." Out in the world, putting to use, hopefully, what I'm going to school for now.

On a side note, I saw an Ice Cream truck and became extremely excited, deciding immediately to get a Teenage-Mutant-Ninja-Turtle-with-bubblegum-eyes-cicle, only to find out that whomever bought it was too lazy to take off the pictures and was using it as a moving furniture truck. How disappointing.

Childhood changed so quickly, I feel. Those moments in Richfield seem a whole different universe from now, when Ice Cream trucks would often enough pass by. I think the closest thing I've seen to one is a Swan's truck, which really doesn't count, though you could say it's an Ice Cream truck for adults. Actually, I lied--New Zealand had quite a few, but they held actual ice cream, rather than cartoon characters.

Those days, filled with my then-best-friend Josh, whom I last saw at my brother's graduation party (what, five years ago?), walking across the street to make things out of old toilet paper roles and run away from the wiener dog (scar on my right hand next to my wrist). I barely remember much. I don't even remember the day that I suddenly didn't talk to him, or my gal-pal. I don't think I even spared a thought until my mom said we'd be seeing him and his family for his sister's grad party. I've dismissed so much of my small childhood, when that's really when the real stuff happens. Creativity was never so unabashed, never having to color in the lines, worry about glue in my hair or whether or not my clothes could handle whatever trouble I got into. Everything seemed so much more durable then, particularly my heart.

And, of course, things have changed. Things that were harmless then aren't quite so now. Half the fear of having children is knowing what I have to worry about.

And I can't even take care of myself! In the past three weeks, I've knelt on broken glass, gotten five cardboard paper cuts, smacked myself into a fence via bike and ripped part of my nail on my pinky toe. For heaven's sake, as soon as one heals, it's sure to be quick that I'll have another injury within the day.

I stick around for the amusement. Yesterday, I was told a dream (nightmare?) by a friend: Freddy Kruger put her and her cousin on an all liquid diet and forced them to do paint by numbers in their spare time (I plan on getting her to enter this in here).

Random Fact: Fresh water from the River Amazon can be found up to 180 km out to sea.

Writing

2008-06-17T09:45:00.000-07:00

Last night, I ended up talking with Miss Tanya, a good friendship that started all randomly when I needed to find a place to stay and her cousin offered her place, where they were roomies.

I think what I like best about Tanya, besides her sense of humor and her wonderfulness, is that we can talk forever. And we listen to each other. She talks like me, where we get off topic and we end up having conversations within conversations, and then we remember the original topic and get back on track, talking some more. I don't feel stupid around her in that sense. I've never really felt socially inept, but I usually feel that my mouth could be better if it were sewn shut, rather than allowed to open whenever I forget (it's not always when I please). I should talk to Thumper's parents to get better advice on the subject.

So, after randomly calling her and asking about whether I should order Domino's online (I was starving, having not eaten since morning, and it was 8pm), we ended up getting together with the pizza. It was easy to get on the subject of writing because we're currently having a writer's conference at our school. We talked about teachers, how we don't feel that we write how we used to and what the best ways to get back on track of writing were.

My latest writing teacher said that the best way to write when you have a busy schedule is to write when you least expect yourself to. When you think you shouldn't write, write anyway. Tanya and I both realized we felt the same way, where, once we start writing, it's hard to stop, thus we hesitate to start. Back in my days of two-in-the-morning-writing-until-parents-kicked-me-off, I didn't have to worry so much. I didn't have writing classes, school was kind of a boring thing I didn't fully feel the need to concentrate on, and gaining sleep was easy as. Now, in college, I feel that I do have to concentrate on school, losing sleep not by choice and never having much time to gain it back, and my two-in-the-morning would be pushed longer if I chose to write what I truly want to write.

I keep telling myself that the only way to really get it all out is that I just do it. Suck it up, as I usually do. Life sucks, you move on, and you enjoy what you can. And what I could enjoy is finally writing something like I used to.

It was either before college started or the summer just after my first year, everything I'd originally written on a computer got crapped out. For some unknown reason, beside the idea of age, the computer wouldn't turn on, and all of my young creative ideas haven't been touched since then. I've thought about maybe this being a reason why I don't write like I should anymore. Given, if I ever re-read what I wrote, I'm sure it'd be obvious I was some 13-year-old trying to write a story much like another story I liked, but I know I had some good original ideas I could pull out somewhere--or so I feel.

It's so easy to lose originality, anyway. Whether it be that I thought up a line and didn't write it down (multiple schemes have been lost to the wind because I thought the idea could wait until morning or that I was in a rush) or the fact that we're all just pulling off of Shakespeare's strings. I think of something and realize it's already been done. The hot air that rose the balloon is let out. There are many ways to tell a story; I just want to make sure I do it well.

So, in the mix of things, I already know the best way to get started. You read. I think that's one of the reasons why I started writing so much during that age, anyway. My parents can vouch for how often I read, even to the point of my teachers saying that I wasn't paying attention in class, but reading a book (to be honest, it was always much more interesting anyway... I don't seem myself putting my knowledge of what president got stuck in his bathtub to use, recently. Taft, by the way.)

Even playing certain video games make me want to write.

Music has been on the list since I was born (particularly, Pirates of the Caribbean makes me want to write, for some reason).

So, here's the real debate. Do I end up writing all over again, or does the cycle start again? I always promise myself something, and it never really turns out to be, especially with a schedule like mine. A day turns to a week, month... before I know it, the promise a few years back and I've got some other ones added to the list. I don't like picking and choosing what I'll get into and leave behind. I like it all and want it all (something my mother taught me ^_~).

The night ended with Tanya and I whining about jobs and how money sucks. Though her boss promised her hours, he ended up taking six hours a week from her because he hired someone new. We bitched about how anyone (mostly college students) were supposed to get money at a job where the pay is low and they keep taking hours away from us and ultimately won't be able to afford getting to the job in the first price thanks to the gas prices.

My view? The prices to everything is rising, thus they have to move minimum wage up, right? In all reality, we keep talking about ratios of the past. We're technically paying the same prices to things, they just want more green going around in the exchanges. Now, it's changed, because they rose the prices to where we're so poor, we're scraping every pot. Even if we do get a raise of money, we were already on the scale of just making ends meet. There's no way to come back.

It's official. There's the rich. There's the poor. And instead of trying to make the change ourselves, we're so worried about putting it into someone else's hands so we can go about our own lives, worrying about what color shirt will best bring out my eyes for a date. Even I, myself, get caught up in the game at times. But isn't it easier to just... I donno, think before we do things?

Since bike riding to work, it really takes about the same amount of time (with a car, there are multiple stop lights) and saves gas money... and overall helps the earth.

Buying locally not only helps the town, but is usually organic. So, I get myself healthy, no chemicals hitting earth and, since I rode my bike to get my meals, double whammy.

It all seems so small. But doesn't everything start out that way?

It all really even starts out with respect, even if it is an "inanimate" object. Place the pen in its place, rather than shoving it in. I find that when I feel in tune with what's around me, I'm kinder all around anyway.

But, that's the beauty of America and people in general, I guess. "Individuality." Having a mind of your own, even if it means not agreeing with someone. Oh, and having that Hummer. Tres importante.

I just fully believe that there's a way to have what you want and still make a difference for the better. Is it really a sacrifice to ride a bike if able? Live with only one high-def television (come on, does your 1st grader really need a small one for their room?)? Use public transportation or car pool? Eat well and think of others for once?

To me, it seems simple and easy. I can give up a little here and there. And if everyone did, it'd make all the difference. I mean, when did sacrificing become such a huge commodity? In the end, it really helps you.

My goal for the end of the summer: get at least one other person to suck it up and use their car only when really needful (hopefully, Russell.)

Random Fact: The USA uses 29% of the world's petrol and 33% of the world's electricity. The World's.

The Girl With The Sun In Head

2008-06-15T11:21:00.000-07:00

I just walked into my room and thought to myself "I like it here."

To be honest, I didn't think I'd end up here. An RA, living in a dorm room, possibly staying a year past what I ought because I'm double majoring in two things that I'll have to work my ass off to get money in. Spending a summer at my school with two jobs. Being a part of my community and getting involved in things that could really change the world.

When I first came to college, it was with the knowledge that there would be someone here who I wouldn't quite want to see and with a best friend who I thought we'd be together forever. Though, in a sense, since I do randomly think of her when I run into Danielle (such as today) or a certain song comes on the radio, perhaps she'll always be there. Without the turn of events, perhaps in some parallel universe, we'd be living together, Jason would still be at the university and I wouldn't be an RA, but spending my time doing more video editing and getting the go on the dream I've had written down since I lived in my apartment last year. But, then again, maybe if I hadn't lived with my other roommates, I wouldn't have had my stroke of hopeful peace in our world.

As it is, through all that has happened these past few years in college, as mundane as I continue to make them seem, a lot has happened. I've realized I use this mostly as a way to write down my thoughts that are too depressing to air to most people, which just makes my mother worry, but between the good and the bad, I'm doing pretty dang well.

I've managed to have my heart broken and survive (like the millions of others), been to New Zealand and back with many friendships and memories, read many books, accomplished classes (started my own television show, for crazy-sake!)... My brother is graduated, bought a house and is starting a successful life that I couldn't be more proud of. My parents have created their own house of happiness and love and I can't stay away from too long (yes, this means I'll always be apart of your lives, parentals ^_~). Mocha and Ellie, the puppies I couldn't adore more... I have money, food, friends, entertainment, two jobs I love that have me working with wonderful people... I even have Cornelius, my ever abiding fish of amusement, calmness and making my room feel less alone.

I'm also, thank god, not getting married or pregnant like the rest of my generation seems to be doing. I'm not saying "good riddance" or "they're messed up" (though I'm sure my tone implies it), but I really feel that I have so much more I want to do with my life before being tied down as such. Having a boyfriend would be all nice and fine, but what I really hope for is more travel and time for my video editing. Make my difference through that way. With my nice external hard drive, hopeful superior knowledge by the time I get out of this university and nothing on my plate, I hope to hit the road and create something beautiful with my words and video footage. My interest lies in having the best life of my life whilst making a difference!

I don't think I'm too far off, with the wonderful encouragement I'm getting from everyone else.

What a happy Sunday!

Random Fact: Chuck Norris can kill two stones with one bird.

Tired Is An Understatement

2008-06-15T08:14:00.000-07:00

It's not that I haven't had the time to write--it's more to the effect that I've been literally too bored to. It's a hard time to convince myself that something is worth writing, especially that when you actually speak it, no one is really listening. Or perhaps, in this case, reading.

I got to thinking about listening quite some time ago. Since the years of elementary, I've known I hear only what I want to hear, but don't we all? If we think that someone is angry at us, we not only get all defensive whenever anything is said, but we start to analyze the every move, trying to prove that our subconcious is right, until, finally, it becomes truth--we create what we initially thought.

Of course, I always hope that this changes for the better, too. Focus the energy on winning the lottery, or finding the love of your life... But then it makes us impatient, too.

Instead of focusing on any of these things, as I have too much time on my hands, I've been keeping up with renting games from Gamestop (personal plus of working there), reading or working on my room. It seems lame, but I keep organizing, cleaning and finding other ways for me to have it. Simplify can't happen so much, but making everything have a place does keep it nice. And it gives me something to do, as it's been raining every day. The sun shines for a moment, and then downpour. Between not wanting to spend money and gas, I've really got nothing much else to do.

Spooner and Emily came to visit a few days ago. I was surprised to get a call from Emily after I got off work. I don't know why, but I have such an odd idea of how things work with relationships. It sounds depressing, but I do get surprised when people invite me to do things. I feel as if I take things in stride--I do what I do, other's do the same. I'm so used to people making such a big deal out of keeping things secret, like people purposefully not inviting others to events, the childish junior high schemes that seem to have followed me to college... When I hopped on board the STLF, I thought it'd be an event and we'd go back to school, nothing changing. But it kept up.

It's like when we moved to our now house, and the neighbors kept coming over to introduce themselves, bringing brownies and breads and kind words. I was confused, and a little wary--I've never lived in a neighborhood that cares so much about each other. I think I actually know the people's names on our street.

I even got a letter from STLF yesterday, a hand written card that said thank you for helping out to give dreams to others. Though I've always considered to think nothing of it, as it's really a small nothing compared to what else I could do, I just keep getting reminded of how easy it is to change things for the better. Even today, my parents asked me about why there was a letter to my "future self." I'd forgotten about the letter I wrote myself on the trip (everyone did). I vaguely remember what I wrote, but I know that it was all words of encouragement, of trying to not let myself forget how easy it is to make things for the better.

How easy it is to forget, though. That we can't make a difference, that what we do can't be used for the future good. How can we get so discouraged by one little comment when the rest of them are all telling us how wonderful we are? The state of our minds say that the percentages are all way off--the small 1% of bad things people say out weighs the other 99% which consists of the warm, fuzzy feelings we enjoy so much. We say it's so rare, but are we ever really listening? If I had a tally, the love would greatly overcome what my mind thinks is really going on.

It really goes to show what one gesture can make through a ripple effect. And wouldn't it be great to make that ripple effect start with a smile instead of a gruff, non-committal noise? I will be the first to admit that it does take work to be consistently grateful--especially when those around you are all too quick to make sure you keep your feet on the ground, sometimes gluing your shoes to the spot to make it even harder to move forward. One's happiness isn't always another's. And, to be honest, I'd rather just live my life and have someone else worry about those things--life is too short to waste time on details when we can all go off and have a good time. And true friendship doesn't let minuscule things get in the way.

Meh, enough of the "deep thoughts." I finally gave my brother his gifts, which I am so happy to say he liked. The first was a shirt I made.

Front: "Fact: Bears eat beets."
Back: "Bears. Beets. Battlestar Galactica."

It took me all of five seconds to decide to make it, a good few days to make sure it looked right. Not only will he be an original, but it's from The Office.

My second gift was Scene It for the Xbox 360. I was really glad he hadn't bought it already, and also glad that he was still interested in it. While we're both wondering if the makers will just have updates to download in bundles, or if they'll just try to make as much money as possible by having more games to buy instead. To be honest, they'd make more on the add-on bundles, and the customers would be happier.

And it's Father's Day. Called my papa to tell him I love him, and found he'd already used some of the Wii points I'd given him. I've come to the realization that we have three Wiis in our family. It's a good realization. I wish I could be there for Father's Day, as I miss last years due to the fact that I was working graveyard and day shifts at two different jobs, but I was happy to see both my parentals last Wednesday.

Every time I visit, it gets harder and harder to leave. I miss how relaxing it is there. Unconditional love has that effect on you. Between the cutest puppies in the world and the best parents... I couldn't ask for much more.

I'm off to be "productive." Slash unproductive. Depends on what comes first.

Random Fact: American Roy Sullivan has been struck by lighting a record seven times. I wonder if he's won the lottery.

....?

2008-06-04T12:54:00.000-07:00

There are these huge crows/ravens that live in our park, much bigger than the normal size, to me. Apparently, this is new to many of the staff here. They talk to each other quite often, and whenever I'm in the park, they scare the bah-geezes out of me by being completely silent, then squawking loudly and staring directly at me. With the dreary weather, I am beginning to feel like I'm in some Edgar Allen Poe poem.

Random Fact: Adding to the mystery surrounding Poe's death (he was found wearing someone else's clothes and kept saying the name "Reynolds"), an unknown visitor affectionately referred to as the "Poe Toaster" has paid homage to Poe's grave every year since 1949. As the tradition has been carried on for more than 50 years, it is likely that the "Poe Toaster" is actually several individuals; however, the tribute is always the same. Every January 19, in the early hours of the morning, the man makes a toast of cognac to Poe's original grave marker and leaves three roses. Members of the Edgar Allan Poe Society in Baltimore have helped in protecting this tradition for decades.

Sunshine, Come Back!

2008-06-04T10:07:00.001-07:00

The past couple of days have been particularly dreary in the weather department, making my fingers tap. I'll find myself thinking I have some sort of mind power because I'll stare outside and just keep chanting "sun" in my head in hopes that it'll come forth. Perhaps a Sun Dance would be appropriate.

The real only bad point to bad weather, besides not being able to sit on the ground and enjoy the sun, is that they've decided to put in the new sidewalk for the dorm next door, which means everyone has to walk all the way around to get in. This wouldn't be so bad if they hadn't had that place torn and ready for that to be a sidewalk, too. Which means that we play hop scotch with mud puddles to get to the door. So far (knock on wood), my clumsy behavior hasn't found me face down in the mud. To be safe, I've been wearing clothes I don't care as much for. And make sure no one else is around to see.

On the good side of things, Cornelius, my fish, I think has taken a liking to my presence. I don't know if I've mentioned the new beta fish in my life. Before one of my residents left, she had seven items left to carry down with her, all fish. Six of them were in these fancy small containers whilst yet to be my fish was still in his small vase. She asked if I wanted him, since she didn't have a place to put him in the car, and I accepted. Thus, Cornelius was adopted. He didn't have a name, so I came up with one, with the help of Mandikat, and I got lucky because someone left their bigger fish bowl in one of the floors kitchens. I invested in two plants, a locally made rock with a hole and some fish food. Every morning, I say hello, mention the weather and, every other day, I give him his food. Now, when I lean over his bowl, instead of acting like I don't exist, he comes over and looks up, puffing his lips. I'm sure he's just waiting to see if it's food day, but I like to think that he enjoys my company, too.

Funny thought I had before I went to sleep: wouldn't it be interesting that, if indeed vampires did exist, it wasn't crucifixes that had them burn and go crazy but some other religious artifact? Like a menorah, or even a Tibetan prayer bead? That would put us through some spins.

Anyway, I'm going to steal away because I think the construction workers on my floor are gone for the day, which means I can take a shower without them coming in or having the awkwardness of me coming out in a towel.

I do, however, hope that people are actually cleaning my bathroom, rather than just splashing a bit of bleach on the floor to make it smell nice. I can't stand that smell, anymore. It brings tears to my eyes. I guess that's my crucifix.

Random Fact: The Ten Paramita:
1. Giving or generosity
2. Virtue, ethics, morality
3. Renunciation, letting go, not grasping
4. Wisdom and insight
5. Energy, vigour, vitality, diligence
6. Patience or forbearance
7. Truthfulness
8. Resolution, determination, intention
9. Kindness, love, friendliness
10. Equanimity

My Virtue Of Patience Wavers

2008-06-03T09:23:00.000-07:00

Apparently, vampires wasn't only on my mind. Yesterday, Russell rented Interview with the Vampire, and Martha had never seen it. It'd been a small while since I'd seen it, though I knew that Tom Cruise did a little to well creeping the bah-geezes out of me as the little-too-enthusiastic-to-be-a-vampire vampire. So, while I wasn't trying to not fall asleep (it's a long movie and it was past midnight), I payed attention to Martha's reactions, which are always a movie in themselves. I ended up being giggly most of the night, a cuddly.

I blame the whole experiences on Tanya and Jessica, who decided it was time for me to read a favorite series of theirs about vampires, though, to tell the truth, it's young adult and very much so romance. Sickeningly so. Apparently, four books worth of sickeningly so.

And, now, going to be a movie. The trailer looks cheesy, the characters don't look anything like I read and it makes everything so much more creepy than the books actually seem... And, yet, here's me, the girl who read the book and feels slightly excited to see it in person. When will I ever learn?

Besides the point, since I've gotten back into my vampire fantasies, I've been struggling not to buy Charlaine Harris' newest part of her series as well, whist also freaking out because September is drawing near, with True Blood, something I wrote about before. It seems I'm not the only one who wants some vampires on screen more often. Though I'm still awaiting who they've chosen for Eric, I'm still excited to see my favorite series come to HBO. HBO. A series. I love when it's a series because they don't have to leave so much out. I hope that's hint enough.

As it is, reading Twilight was pretty fun, to say the least. Since reading All Together Dead, I've been on a fantasy hiatus, no books interesting me or just plain too lazy to trust a title. Since I'd forced my books on Jessica, I found it only fair to read something she recommended.

God, were they in love with each other! They were so in love that I began to actually start being optimistic about that true love gushy crap! And it ended on such a sour note, too! She wanted to become a vampire, but let's not get into that (as much as I love to read about them, I don't think I'd ever want to be one...). I actually enjoyed it, and finished the book in two days. Besides myself, and never wanting to admit to anyone that I was on a love-high, I started the second, amazed I was so entranced and that I wanted more.

Let me explain. A seventeen-year-old girl goes to school, meets a boy who frustrates her to no end and they end up getting together. Normal. Many love stories start out that way. But then said boy is a vampire, has girl find out, he stays in her room at night, throughout the entire night, and they have no troubles with her knowing anything until one random vampire decides that he wants to hunt her down and kill her? I have to keep reminding myself and Tanya and Jess told me: This was a love story, not just with it on the side. It just seemed wildly irrational for a 110-year-old vampire, though still the age of looking 17, wasn't to fall in love with an actual 17-year-old and... I donno, not control himself.

I think that's why I got the love-high. By the end of the book, I'd bought the fact that love has no boundaries. And it was blissful.

And then that damn second book. By the third chapter, they were broken up and I ended up being on an emotional roller coaster Stephenie Meyer left no detail out of how excruciating it was to not be around the one you love. And then, when she finally seemed over it, she wasn't and he came back and then there was another boy involved...

Ugh, the complications were endless, and I'm very sulky to start the third. True love or not, vampires and werewolves aside, I have to say, I hate that love complication crap. I didn't want to be caught up with it in the first place, and I realized that, while the story was interesting in all that, I'm adjusting to the form of writing. Everything is so normal, and I can guess most of everything before it happens, which gets boring. Jess told me that it was science fiction for people who didn't like science fiction. But the love thing still catches me off guard.

It's probably why I'll start my next novel when I finally get off my desk duty at five.

I just keep trying to think of what else life means, as these portray that it's love and nothing else. I mean, there's more. But what really keeps us all from going crazy? I mean, I am bored. Bored. And reading these books have made it perfectly clear how incredibly boring not only my love-life is, but just in general how quickly I made a nice little schedule for myself. How life purposefully makes that schedule with having to work two jobs, try not to use my car for gas purposes, keep up to date with friends and conserve money as best I can.

A few weeks ago, I found my glow-in-the-dark stars and quickly placed them above my head where I could star at them a few feet away from me before falling asleep. My father, when we decided to go from my frilly pink room to sky-blue with green grass and clouds, used glow-in-the-dark paint to put stars in my sky. Every night, I'd stare up at them, touch them. Last night, when looking at my own stars, I couldn't help but think how much closer they seemed when I was a child. Everything seemed so much closer, and now it's so far spread, like thinning butter. I keep wondering when it'll run out.

I look at my boring life and every day wonder how I can spice it up. And I begin to see that perhaps I'm the only one who has a problem with it, and if I want to add some spice, I'll be the only one wanting to do it. It's difficult to get my friends to go spend the day at the beach, or just bike past it in the least. I think that's why I've been so unwilling to really talk with Mandikat, as she's doing exactly what I want to do, and can, because she has no financial worries in the least, besides her loans. She has a new boy on the prowl with her, no worries of gas, car insurance (car maintenance or anything car related for that matter), food, living, jobs... It's embarrassing for me to explain to her how I can't do many things with her because I can't afford to do much after spending the gas to get to her. Even if I had a car with great gas mileage, I don't think it'd be much different.

I just don't like the idea of being stuck. It makes my insides squirm, especially when it's boring me. I sometimes love the tedious, the without-thought-work. But when that's how life begins to feel, I feel this itch to run. Start a water balloon fight or something. Something besides working and doing the mundane details of life.

Some people would say "Welcome to life. Better get used to it."

But I don't think I have to choose that. I don't think I have to "get used" to anything if I don't want to. I just need someone to agree and not hesitate so much. If we really want to do something, I've always believed that it will happen when the mind is set (mostly because I've done it every time).

I'm bored. Come play with me!

Random Fact: The first TV soap opera debuted in 1946. It's fascinated the rest of our population for ages thereafter. Whether you want to be or not.

Question!

2008-06-02T16:46:00.001-07:00

Can vampires get HIV? Or even an STD? Given, you'd figure that them sucking blood, they'd get something. But, then again, you'd figure they could easily just get some sort of blood transfusion and it'd be gone. Like, drain their entire body and give them new blood.

It seems that they shouldn't be killed by such an event. They're already dead anyway, and, if you go by "code," it'd be silver or sunlight or some other thing that would actually kill them. Lack of blood would just make them more thirsty.

Just a thought. If I ever meet a vampire, I'll ask and let you guys know.

Then again, if I meet a vampire and am writing some sort of blog about it, I'm sure I should be counting my blessing that I'm still alive. Maybe they aren't all killers or something (yet again something I'd have to ask a vampire to know), but they are powerful creatures. And, considering the mouth I've got, it would be amazing that I'd still be alive.

Random Fact: I read too many novels that make me think of mythological creatures as if they're real.

Reasons

2008-06-02T09:04:00.000-07:00

So, Ctrl+Alt+Del.

I've read this for a few years now, and I completely enjoy it. It makes me feel okay that I play games and lead a normal life, as people usually tend to freak out that I'm a girl and play video games consistently. To be honest, there's nothing to be said that a girl plays video games. I'm not special. A lot of girls play video games. There's actually two girls working at Gamestop at once. I know. I almost pissed myself, too.

I guess the fact of the matter is his post disturbed me a little. Not that he wasn't 100% correct in his thoughts. But the fact of the matter is, he's the writer. Not the millions of readers. A webcomic or novel or anything else isn't necessarily the product of something that is our choice (except for Tim's time of that awesome Adventure Novel for comics idea). I understand the frustration of buying a book and reading it to find out you wasted twenty bucks on shit. But a webcomic is free, and it's amazing to watch these people achieve their dreams and really take the readers into account. I mean, even as against how some people deal with their readers I am, at least he's recognizing. If there weren't such interest in a story being told, then writers wouldn't even exist.

And, believe me. We love a story. Some will take whatever they can get (which brings us to the shit television of American Idol, Big Brother and The Office.... ha ha, just kidding, American Idol is awesome... Ha ha, again, it's The Office! The Office is the real winner.) If you really pay attention to conversation (which I'm guessing only about 10% of us do about once a week), you'll see that 25% of it is jokes, 25% is story and the other 49% is both. The other 1% is miscellaneous things I'm sure you can slightly imagine don't make any sense in much other conversation (but it does make up some sort of story... bad, true, but they still manage to make films).

So, really, everything we say and do is a story. Small part of myself you may not know: I like to listen to my MP3 player while walking to school because it makes it seem as if I have a theme song, and it's cool to see what part of life syncs up with the rest.

I've gotten off topic. The fact of the matter is, as great of readers as we are, we can be little bitches. We whine and moan about characters and plots and anything else to see if we'll get our way, just like trying to get a chocolate bar when we're five years old by falling to the ground and pounding our fists in some Incredible Hulk-like motion, thinking this would somehow get what we want, rather than just some embarrassment for ourselves, family and the people watching (with a little added bonus of getting nothing else for the rest of the night, if we were lucky). And now, the writers are explaining themselves for their decisions. And, to be honest, an idea for a plot sometimes comes with the characters; if you put them in a situation, the characters write what happens, you just tell what it was.

In a sense, I can understand why Tim decided to say something on the matter of the latest story arc. It's tough situation, what happened to Lilah, yes, but it amazing me how many people were concerned about what Ctrl+Alt+Del was. It's amazing how many people band together to try to get someone to change something the way they feel it should be.

I like that Tim doesn't have the mundane gaming comic. If it were just another gaming comic, do you really think it would have gotten this far? There are plenty of other comics that only do jokes about gaming. And they're funny, sure. And many you have to have a taste for things like this, such as finding the right wine (don't tell me to buy wine unless you know the brand, year and have a Polaroid of every angle so I don't screw it up... My family knows that if I couldn't find it, I'd probably just come home with some grapes and say we could make our own).

Anywho, I get the idea of needing to please the reader. Obviously, as they're the ones who are enabling you to do what you love for a living (well, some of you webcomic-teers, anyway... You'll get your debut yet, if not). But we're writers. Artists. And, as cliche as it seems, I hope that at least 89% of it is their own free will to write what needs to get out. 10% of that is fooling around with different ideas and styles. The other 1% is miscellaneous.

I can see that the money invested can be like the time invested. But nothing has really changed, here. You think that Lilah and Ethan were never going to have a kid? Get married and that was it? Lilah may be a gamer, but we gamer girls, though not all the same, still have normal thoughts of kids and shit (the shit was stuff, not literal). I get frustrated with certain comics all the time, when drama gets involved. I don't need another OC in my life--my old roommate being obsessed was enough. When someone else starts getting so worried about a fictional character's life that it changes their own, there are two things at play: 1) The writer must be pretty good (or the person watching/reading is pretty dumb) and 2) The person being affected to such a degree is sad. There are certain things to be "touched" by. An angel, perhaps, or the way a puppy wags it's tail when you say it's name. But I'll be damned if it's by a soap opera for people who can't think for themselves. I mean, people were so worried about Harry Potter dying, there were therapists standing by because parents couldn't teach their children that, while the books were good, it wasn't real.

That was harsh. But I stand by it.

All in all, I suppose that it's what every writer decides to do. I'm a reader that reads to find out what will happen next and doesn't question any of it (unless it never explains anything... then it can go to hell). I'll get ideas of what may happen next, and hope I am pleasantly surprised (which I can be). But, when you buy a book or start to read something, understand that it won't do what you want. It shouldn't, in a lot of ways. A really good book never gives you want you want in a character. How many times have you opened a book and just been so distraught over what the author has written out? And then you can't put the book down for the rest of the night? You don't like what's going on, but the character just keeps enduring and you want to know what happens next. The reason why we love characters is for what they can endure and overcome. It makes them.

So, my advice? Get over it. Suck it up. And get a life. It's cool to dodge some of life with video games and books. But you still have your own to live. And if you remember that, you didn't have an issue with what I was talking about in the first place.

On a side note, lentils are the new rice. I could eat them for ages. But I sometimes wish it didn't look like I was eating baby food. It cramps my style.

Random Fact: The most used letters in the English language are E, T, A, O, I and N

My Fingers Hurt

2008-05-30T23:48:00.000-07:00

I've done it again. Apparently, what I consider right is over the ball park an into some alternate universe.

I spent four hours doing room inventories for twenty-two rooms. I did exactly what they told me to do: touch everything to make sure that it's all in order and that I don't miss a thing. Lines were quickly filled, and I found myself wondering if another friend of mine, who was doing the next floor up, was finished.

She'd finished two hours before me.

I thought I was doing what needed to be done, but when I finally made my way over to my friend and two other friends (around 1am), they looked through my papers and kept saying, "Oh, my god! Mallory!" I'm not easily embarrassed, but this did the trick, as usual. I mistook "look at everything and write it down" as "look at everything and write it down." Apparently, it actually means, "just write larger things down."

I don't like to half-ass things. I think that's why I get discouraged to do things in a sense, because I want to make sure that I have that extra energy to really get it done. Even relaxing has a technique for me. My ritual usually includes a warm shower, then sitting around in my undies whilst sipping some hot cocoa and watching The Office or something before taking a nap or going to bed for the night. If it's only going to be fifteen minutes or a half hour, it never works out; something will yank me away early.

I even missed my Wii Fit today. It's a slippery slope when I'm tired because I start to want it to be a priority. Soon, it'll be sitting in a corner, wishing it were even glanced at.

no, I wouldn't let that happen. I'm just trying to guilt-trip myself into doing it tomorrow. But even then I'm busy. A load of laundry, cleaning dishes and my counter space while also recycling and putting up door decks and hopefully printing out my On Duty board... Stopping at Gamestop to pick up my schedule (lord knows it has to be me, since Mike is terrible at telling me when I start for the summer). Finally, things are starting to pick up, and hopefully at a pace that I can handle, rather than the busy gross finals week. I already notice that I'm picking up hours for money, which is always good. I have a feeling I'll be over the 30 hour time limit, but I plan on keeping it on the D.L. I've managed to come up with a new time/money management plan. And I'm stickin' to it!

I haven't even driven my car in the forevers! Huzzah for not paying the 3.79 for gas, yet!

Lord, how will I afford anything?

On a brighter note, it was my brother's birthday yesterday, and my gift is really exciting--I hope he'll enjoy it as much as I did buying it. My Great Aunt and Uncle are visiting in a little over a week, which I took time off for. And summer has started. It'll be weird not being home, and I'm sure I'll miss my parentals dearly. But I'll be learning along the way.

Life, though completely in every which way at all times, is actually at least intriguing.

Random Fact: A duck can't walk without bobbing its head

The Answer Must Be Behind Door Number 2!

2008-05-28T17:50:00.000-07:00

I find myself in a hard position.

There is a certain air of hypocrite-crap when it comes down to not liking someone, yet still having to work with them and all that jazz.

Personally, I find it hard to do more than be polite and meet the standards of being a nice person without them noticing that I'm avoiding/ignoring them, even making it natural to do business with a quick hello and goodbye. My response to someone who, for some reason, isn't in my path of "friend," I guess isn't a great one. I'm sure that, if I looked past the odds and ends of reasons that first brought them to just "Yeah, I'm acquaintances," there would probably be something of a friendship.

But I think about what I would think if I found out that someone was really being my friend when, in all reality, talked behind my back, never truly liked me or something to that effect. Where is that line of "Polite" and "Liar"?

I seem to have defined it as I just don't hang out with them on my free time. I try not to offer my free time up to them, unless it happens to be somethings simple as "Have a cup of sugar." Anything past (such as a DVD or video game), I wouldn't give it to many other people either, so I feel as if I am in my rights. One of the worst things is giving someone the wrong impression, so when I see someone acting the friend, yet not to their face, I begin to wonder where anything lies, especially with the people I myself call friends (am I in that same position?). I am reminded of high school.

To be honest, why waste time around someone who doesn't make you happy? In any situation, unless dire to a job or something to equal value, there is simply no reason to give someone the wrong impression or lead them on in any way. But it's hard to do that without coming off as someone who's cold/a complete bitch. The balance is hard to find (unless being a complete bitch is appropriate, such as a cheating boyfriend, spouse or someone who uses their free time to make yours a living hell).

So, there's me, who doesn't like to give the wrong idea and just does pretty much the bare minimum, but then there are friends who, though they talk about only wanting to do the bare minimum, and do more. And I'm curious. The first presumption is that they are only doing this because, even though they dislike this person, they still care about their opinion and do the opposite of what they want to appease. Or, they are being nice because, beyond their judgment, they know that being nice is better than being curt-polite.

Either way, if I think they're doing it for caring about their opinion, I think, why? Why give the time of day to what they think?

Ah, the all tell-time question that is hard to figure out and keep the answer at ready hand. If we do give the time to an opinion, it's because we care about what at least someone thinks. Otherwise, there isn't a second thought. I don't know if I'm being awesome at not having a curb around what I do or if I'm just being a jerk. Because if I weren't being a jerk, wouldn't everyone else be doing what they've been saying they want to do, rather than skirting the issue and allowing their feelings be misunderstood? So, am I being difficult because I can't appease or because I'm not that better person to look beyond judgment?

The position I really find myself in is difficult because if I choose to not be around any person that makes me unhappy, it usually means me being the left-one-out. Typically, there would be others around so I wouldn't have the difficult decision, but since summer approached, there is literally no one but staff here to keep everyone interested. I'm not necessarily unhappy, but extremely awkward, for no particular reason except that this person is extremely awkward. I find myself strained for conversation besides the mundane, and I feel as if anything I say is sucked into his life form which is dying for some sort of human contact. Normally, I'm okay with this sort of thing, but, normally, the person hadn't at one point asked me out. Now, it's not just his socially awkwardness that adds to the situation, but the awkwardness of me saying, "Sorry, but no... I've just got too much on my plate."

And then that, not even knowing him for a month, or ever seeing him outside of a one hour class, he said, over the phone, "You can't hear it, but I'm pretty sure my room mate heard my heart break."

It's really a mix of everything. I don't know how to react to a sentence like that when I've never gotten any guy saying something even close to a romantic setting of watching a movie. I barely know the guy. And there's a kind of creepy, awkward feeling to him.

Plus, that's really a cheesy line. Would only work on, like, the tenth date. Seriously. I don't date and I know this.

So, really, the situation consists of this person now hanging out with my staff friends because he's now on staff. And since they don't know him, knowing only of what I've said (and because I'm not the type of person to come out and say "Don't hang out with him!" since I believe in other's getting their own opinion without me trying to manipulate their ideas), he's slowly making his way more and more into the daily activities I do.

I've decided to really take this as a time to work on taking the past person I knew and allowing myself to see that people do change. As my mother once said, "People change. This doesn't mean you have to go all out and be their friend, but you could see that something has changed to where you can be comfortable around them." And I know that my polite to someone I know is usually short, curt and to the point. Usually making me seem like I'm not as polite with want, but need. Which usually equals Bitch.

An opportunity to take, and we'll see how I do. It's almost a must, to be honest. We're a small staff, and there is that decision of looking beyond judgment and sucking it up. But I do have to look to my own securities. I simply do not want this person hanging in my room at this point. I really won't be able to handle certain situations, and rather than me be an immature adult (more of one, I should say), it's better to not even get into the point until I feel I can handle it.

And as for the friends who can't decide which side they are on, whether they even see a side, I have to realize that that is their choice. I can tell them my own insecurities, and hope they understand and can tell me theirs, but their decisions are something I can't control. And I don't want to control them. Trying to control myself is hard enough as it is.

A thought: Even if a person has changed, it's hard for me to get rid of the old image I once had of a person, as that's the one we're left with. We almost don't want to leave that image, in case we see a small inkling of that old person, so we can scream out that we're right or to at least save ourselves some hurt for the future. But if we had been there during that change, proof of what they'd been through, we're more likely to stick around. But, in this world of "It's everyone for themselves!" it's... well, it's everyone for themselves.

I hope that someday I can get past that and realize that, in order to cause change, we have to understand it and go through some ourselves. Because there is living life... and living it. The latter has always been my favorite and most memorable.

Random Fact: The lifespan of a taste bud is 10 days

Wii Bored?

2008-05-26T18:29:00.001-07:00

So, I've officially gone into the Wii Fit of awesomeness in the past few days. I was hesitant, not knowing everything to expect. I had no doubts that it would have something to be a great game--just the price made me nervous. Was this something that I could wait to buy? Or a must have?

For the past few days, I've been "working out" for an hour every morning, and I am completely sore. It may sound sad to say that a video game is making me sore, but these things are mostly things made for actual work out sessions. Aerobics, Yoga, Strength and Balance. I've basically got almost every mini unlocked, and the duration periods for many of the things to do are at their longest. So, my "hour" is slowly turning into almost two. Not that I'm complaining. There's not much to do around here if you don't want to spend money. Russell doesn't have a bike, and Martha, though she does, usually wants to go to a destination that spends money. And it's usually things that I don't need, whether it be items I choose to buy or added calories. I'm not counting, but when I realized I had ice cream three days in a row, the calories suddenly also added into my pocket for money.

So, without someone to really ride bike with, as other people's motivations aren't in sync with my own, I haven't biked for the past few days, and mostly spent the time in my room, playing Wii Fit, working slowly but surely on my bulletin board, duty board and door decks... I got so bored, I brought out my old Animal Crossing game, something I hadn't played in over a year! And if you don't know what that game is/means, know that it is a game that makes you care about pulling weeds, sending letters to computers and filling a museum up with the "world's wonders."

So, Wii Fit has been my main companion, a constant.

But, really?

I will pull the crap card on this a million times over. I understand where the parents are coming from, but, then again, I don't. I feel as if this could have been avoided by the obvious READING ABOUT THE FREAKING GAME thing. Which, parents never do. Having previously worked at Gamestop, and now doing so again this summer, I can hands down say that there are multiple parents who buy their child Grand Theft Auto, though we explain the reasons why it's a Mature game (some of them Adults Only): Prostitutes, shooting and killing people... If you're not a child, I think the game could be quite enjoyable, giving a different perspective to a life, especially movie-esque (if they're going to complain about the game, may as well stop the presses, movies, television... Why stop at a small population of things and go all the way?).

But out of all of this, you're going to complain that a game called Wii Fit is calling your child obese? Haven't you been noticing anything? I'm sorry, I am obese, but at least I know. My mother did tell me that I was overweight, if anything for concerns of wanting me to be healthy so I could live a good life of health.

But I digress. Let's look at the box, shall we? It says that it'll check your BMI (like a child is interested in that), making goals and tracking progress of daily workouts and getting fit with over forty activities. The box itself shows four participants doing Yoga, a Balance Game, Strength Training and Aerobics. The people are of different ages. So, from what I take, this is way of getting fit by also playing some games on the side. After playing it, it literally is doing Yoga and Strength training, with the fun stuff being Aerobics and Balance games. This, in all essence, is "working out."

The parents could have gone any direction on this. If my child had come up to me and said, "My video game called me fat!" and I knew all of the above information (which is easily displayed on the box, and before my child had gotten a hold of it, I think I could have had the decency to know what my children were playing before this question would even arise), I don't think I would have made a huge deal to a point of blaming a game to tell my child that she was fat. A doctor tell us that we are fat, and they're not getting sued (as soon as I typed that, I have to say, I'll bet they have gotten sued for something so stupid).

Instead of making another negative out of something that people already perceive as a negative thing, I would make a positive. "Yes, honey, you don't have the figure of a model, but let's make it into a daily activity with more healthy choices if you're really worried about it!"

When have we decided to stop taking our own blame for things? I am not blaming anyone for my fat. Though Martha may have asked me to go to an ice cream parlor, I did go and I did pay for my ice cream. I could have gone and not gotten anything. But, as choices go, I like ice cream. *shrugs*

Of course, who knows really how things should go? Wii Fit does say it's for everyone, but it was even said on Wii Sports that the Wii Fitness Age doesn't work for those under twenty because that's the lowest Wii Fit Age that it can go. Because, as most people know, that's when people have mostly stopped developing. Not even the machines at the Rec Center go under twenty. So, as the above link states, Nintendo did say that these things won't be entirely accurate if they're under the age limit.

But here goes: You don't have to check your BMI every time. You can just play the game, too. Think of the BMI check as an added bonus. And get over it.

Seriously.

For other news, here's my blanket I crocheted:

Yep. Took me five years. I'd get busy with something else, and by the time I'd get back, I'd see how many mistakes I'd made and start over. This time, I went all out and finished it. It's folded in half in that picture, so the length is about me, and the width, which is chopped in half, could be placed on my bed and have some room to spare on the sides. I really like my color scheme. So much chaos that works (at least, for me it does). One really easy blanket finished, a more complex to come... And, hopefully, after that, I'll get into the fancy zig-zag pattern! Depends on how bored I get.

I've been watching The Office, a few episodes every day, for the past week, starting over when this last season ended. So, The Office, crocheting, maybe some work on the side...

Man, my summer is easy.

Random Fact: The only food that does not spoil is honey

Forget Your Blessings

2008-05-21T07:18:00.000-07:00

I find that if I forget my blessings, I have such a greater gratitude when I remember them than if I were to go around counting them every second of my life.

Of course, when I think of blessings, I think immediately of hot water. At this point, the dorm I'm staying in for the summer doesn't have it, and I'm beginning to think that I'm not the prettiest of sights in the morning, namely because I'm too lazy to get up, get dressed, walk over to another dorm, shower, get dressed and walk back, where I then undress, do my business of lotion schemes and combing my long hair, then dress again for the day. I miss the days of just wrapping a towel around me, rather than carrying fifty items with me, making me look more ridiculous than usual. It's a shower, not some military mission for the next crusade.

It's also particularly lonely in the dorms, now that there are about five people living there, in comparison to the hundreds. And even those five people are far away on different floors, and we all have our own agenda. It's quiet, so I ended up "stealing" the radio from 11th floor to place on mine for the bathroom.

I'm beginning to feel like the stay-at-home pet, where you leave on the television for noise while you're away so they feel, I donno, loved? I'm sorry, but I think a pet knows the difference between a warm, fleshy person speaking with love than a cold, calculating machine that tries to sport these out, despite the knowledge of them possibly starting fires. Otherwise, we'd be fucked (as I'm sure they'd collaborate together to take over the world--robots will hate humans, not the animals in which we came from (unless you don't believe in the impossible to refute evolution, then God just found another way to get rid of us)).

So, I've seen Iron Man twice, Prince Caspian once. I've already expressed my adoration for Iron Man, but perhaps not in blog form, so let me tell you that it is possibly an epic movie of awesomeness. Never really had a thing for Robert Downey Jr, but it's kind of hard not to when you see the movie. There's just something about a man who knows what he wants, then gets it. And also is the smartest man alive. Of course, this is his character, but I stand my ground. Oh, and small spoiler: Tony Stark (his character in Iron Man) is in The Incredible Hulk (a movie I'm actually excitedly anticipating... Edward Norton? Hells yes!). Anywho, it's witty, action packed in a Transformers kind of way, but better, and I'm excited for the everything to come for it.

Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian is a small different story. It's much different from the first one, leaving no room for much explanation. It's as if they thought, "The movie is called Chronicles of Narnia, not let's dwaldle! Get these soldiers out there, move, move, move!!!" I do have to brag that the first scene of them coming back to Narnia is one of the places I visited in New Zealand--pretty cool. But, besides that point, I found many more parallels for religion in this movie, and it kind of depressed me. I'm more of a spiritual person, but it was the idea of believing that got me. When we believe something, what makes us pause to go the way we should?

I'm also almost finished with my afghan I started junior year of high school. I've started and re-started this blanket so many times, I can't even begin to explain. Now, it's almost done. I'll place a picture up of my crocheted masterpiece later. I'm pretty proud of it. When that one is done, I'll finish the circular afghan I started my senior year of high school. This one always took a bit extra as every ten stitches, I'd add one (elsewise, it would look more like a bowl, less like a blanket). They're both colorful experiences, and I love how much of my personality they have.

Tonight is the midnight showing of Indiana Jones! I already have my ticket, and it's another thing I'm stoked for! It's old school, with music, sound effects, Mr. Harrison Ford... It's been a while since I've had the "midnight experience," and it wasn't the latest Harry Potter. I can't even remember it.

So far, I think this summer will be nothing short of awesometastic.

Random Fact: A hummingbird weighs less than a penny

On Duty

2008-05-14T00:25:00.001-07:00

I know I haven't updated for ages, but I feel like I have a legitimate reason, which is the end of the year stresses. There is just too much going on for any body's health.

Technically, I was done with finals last Thursday. I was given an extra day in two of my classes to fix some smudges here and there for portfolios (everyone got it), and then I went home for the weekend to spend Mother's Day with family and friends. I then got back to a time of being on the brim of constant panic. I don't have anything to panic about, but I've gotten the bug just when I thought I'd puked it out.

Most of it is just nerves for summer. I want it to begin so bad, my brain hurts. I'm consistently in my room for check outs, when everything is happening for goodbyes at a different time. That's the thing about being an RA. When the fun is happening, you usually have to say no--it's what I've signed up to do, so I'll live with it, but most of my Senior friends are having get together times that I truly wish to be involved in. Who the hell knows when I'll officially see them again? They're going out into the real world. I've a few years before I can finally make that step in the forevers.

Of course, there are other stress-related things, for sure doing with the relationship statuses of the everyone. Mandikat broke up with her boyfriend of seven years, people are getting engaged like the plague whilst others are getting pregnant/married within the next months. Others are considering/have cheated on their "significant" others.

To be honest, it's a hard choice to say which disgusts me most. Seeing people kind of throw their lives away by marrying young and having kids, money lost on the college never well spent or the thought of people cheating. Probably the cheating. I get a little sick whenever I think of myself in any of those positions. For myself, I am too young to want myself to have a kid or get married; I have the dreams and goals for my future that includes the money I've invested.

But cheating? I don't care what it is. There is harm. Betrayal of trust. It embodies everything that... I hate? It's a hard thing for me to not be judgmental of. It's something that can be avoided by the choices we make. It never "just happens". Something has been leading up to it, and if it happens, then those choices from the beginning should not have been made.

I'm tired. Extremely so. I'm on a constant go. I can't even take precious naps, as there's always a phone ringing or a door knocking. You think I'm bragging, that I think of myself in popular demand. This is just the end of the year.

But I have my happy moments. I brought more things up from home to make my stay in the same room for the next year and a half more comfortable. I've been playing Mario Kart Wii in any non-working waking hour. I walk the puppies at the Humane Society, play Guitar Hero with friends and have some of the most memorable conversations with people I now consider to be best friends.

College really is some of the best years of my life. And I plan on continuing that factor, even after my education is finished.

Random Fact: The common belief that dogs are color blind is false. Dogs can see color, but it is not as vivid a color scheme as we see. They distinguish between blue, yellow, and gray, but probably do not see red and green. This is much like our vision at twilight.

Love, Etc.

2008-05-02T19:10:00.001-07:00

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Test of Trials

2008-04-21T23:13:00.001-07:00

The stress just keeps piling and making something of itself.

The end of the year is upon us. The part about being an RA is the ability to juggle what we hope we can handle. Usually, I end up doing something fantastic, like managing to pull off five balls at once--but I've found that those are usually flukes, and I've got to just pull myself together to keep the real tricks that I know well going.

I did my new bulletin board on the stresses of life and school, and the need to get a good balance. It basically made a list of how to make a schedule for yourself; how to study and then relax between study sessions.

I, myself, have too much on my plate. With the luck I've had, my tape got smashed with my footage, which my teacher understands and gave me another chance until Wednesday, but I have projects due, a paper I've put off way too long and even more so to keep up with my residents, who are also freaking out about school and life. But I have to remember the good things:

*I won $31 at our local co-op
*Ben Folds concert was epic
*My new glasses are working out perfect
*I still have money on my college ID
*I got a summer position and my Gamestop position
*Showers are still the best anythings ever
*I have great friends and family

There are so many more... And tonight is the night that I get everything back into it's own place. Where it's supposed to be.

Random Fact: 75% of the general population experiences at least "some stress" every two weeks (National Health Interview Survey). Half of those experience moderate or high levels of stress during the same two-week period. Stress contributes to heart disease, high blood pressure, strokes, and other illnesses in many individuals. Stress also affects the immune system, which protects us from many serious diseases.

Summer?

2008-04-20T09:20:00.000-07:00

I'm pretty sure I got sun burnt yesterday.

It was gorgeous, so I parked myself outside to do some homework. Joining me were Seth, Russell, Lisa, Angi, Laura, Nikki and some random come and goes. For about an hour, I worked, then the rest of the time was spent talking, laughing and enjoying the warm weather.

We then had the Festival of Nations, in which there are many booths set up with food we can buy for a dollar, a stage with performances to see traditional attire and song and then places where you can buy things. I tried almost every booth (I only had a certain amount of tickets), bought some fancy chopsticks (I keep forgetting mine at home), got my name in Chinese characters, made a God's Eye (memories of selling those at garage sales) and also got some henna on my hand.

It was really cool to talk to the people manning the booths, especially the foreign exchange students, as they talked about how they came about to Minnesota.

After the day spanned out, Martha and I then went to the pub to hang out with Traci and her parents. The next few hours were spent laughing at each other's stories. It's been a while, laughing that hard for that long. And it's nice to know that my family aren't the only one's crazy ^_~

In a few hours, I'll be on my way to seeing the Ben Folds concert. I'm not sure how it'll all pan out. This'll be the first time Dan and I will "hang out" since he decided I wasn't worth his time, and then I decided he wasn't worth mine. Emily and Corey for fantabulous people, but I haven't really done much with them besides the random hanging out and STLF trip, which is different in itself.

It's exciting, though.

I got a summer position at Residential Life, and the Gamestop is a good call. No school, friends and two jobs? Plus, the people who also got positions or will be around... This summer is going to be exactly what I need.

I just wanted to update--I always kind of feel bad when I leave my blog for a certain amount of time, as if it has feelings of some sort. I am busy, but there's always time for a quick blog lovin'.

I'm off to clip the ends of the flowers I received from Mandikat's recital, the one's that are happy to be around and make happy smells in my dorm room.

Random Fact: The characters Bert and Ernie on Sesame Street were named after Bert the cop and Ernie the taxi driver in Frank Capra’s “It’s a Wonderful Life.”

Tone It Down

2008-04-11T10:37:00.000-07:00

I had a dream last night about Rooster Teeth. I have no clue how this came about. I've never really seen a good picture of any of the crew, but I managed to take their comic form and create some idea in my head.

I think we went bowling.

Besides that point, the small road trip we had turned out to be a blast. We did so much! Corey was supposed to come with us, but he found that he couldn't skip one of his classes, so it was just Spooner, Amber and I. Turns out, Amber and I made a great team.

The Highlights:
*Went to Duluth to meet up with an STLF friend. We stayed for about an hour, watching Tim the Toolman Taylor and having root beer floats with Dad's Root Beer (I know, I pretty much freaked out knowing that she had the root beer of childhood memories!!!!!).
*Drove rest of way to Spooner
*Tiny notes around Spooner's house to remind us/welcome us to cute adorable home
*First Smirnoff drink
*Went to bed at 4:30amish
*Got up at 7:30am to shower
*Ate breakfast and left for Rice Lake
*Realized we left items at Spooner's house
*I stayed with Spoon during surgery whilst Amber drove to get said items
*Spooner hit on us multiple times, which totally made up for the blood and grossness
*Amber got, literally, a childhood friend's number from his father
*Saw Lynn, Spoon's mum, and met her husband at Culver's (St. Paul)
*Saw STLF headquarters and met Petey (Minneapolis)
*Drove up north and made a pit stop at my parents'
*Drove rest of way to university
*Dropped off Spooner after getting some eating supplies for him, as he couldn't have solid foods for some time
*Amber and I smoked a stogie while walking back to dorms

I look concerned because smoking a cigar means you're cool. Ever seen Independence Day? Will Smith is pretty Badass with that cigar.

Cigarettes? No.

Hookah? No.

Pipe? No, but still cool.

Cigar? Why not?

It's also blizzard week. Last weekend it was snow-crazed, now it's snow-crazed again. Normally, I'm all for this! I love snow like the dickens! However, I had plans to see Miss Mandikat for her senior recital. She had been on a voice hiatus, so it was hard enough that we weren't talking (I'm so sorry, parentals, for the text messages....). But we talked yesterday, and now I really want to see her more than usual!!! I'm praying and telling everyone else to pray, too. The thing is, during the day, it's all melty and no issue. At night, that could be the different story.

Whelp, I'm off to see what difference I can make in the day. Maybe get some lunch. We'll see.

Random Fact: More than 50% of the people in the world have never made or received a telephone call.

April Shower Treats

2008-04-08T00:19:00.001-07:00

Just before I go to bed, I sometimes like to just stand in a warm shower. For those minutes, I contemplate nothing. I stare and just let the water beat against my skin. I relax. And when I'm done, I look at the poster that says, "You can save blah-blah-blah amount of water if you cut your shower short by only two minutes!"

And I always think, "Totally worth it."

Over Achiever

2008-04-07T21:51:00.000-07:00

I spent a good quality of time on a self evaluation for my Resident Assistant position, taking it seriously and really writing about how I did and what I feel I should work on. About 5:30am last night, with only seven questions left, I decided I needed to get some sleep, though I had started the process at about 11pm.

I slept, got up and started working at the front desk at 10am-12pm, in which my time was spent talking with my next year Hall Director and our newest RA, who's been around less than a week.

I then spent another hour an a half finishing the questions up. When I picked up my printed copy from downstairs, the front desk worker had set it aside. "How'd you know?" I asked, basically teasing because that meant she had read what I'd printed out to see that it was more of an "RA's eyes only" material.

"Oh, Dan had printed his out just before you."

I picked mine up and saw that Dan's was significantly... shorter than mine. He had two pages. While I had six.

Thinking he had skirted the issue, I said, "Make fun of him when he picks it up!"

I met up with Russell and asked him how long his was. His was two pages.

When I got to the meeting, I found that I was the one who had gone over and above what I needed to do, and I was the one teased. People were wondering what the hell I had to say about myself, and all I could think about was how I had actually really wanted to make sure I got the questions right, looking up "Work Ethic" and wondered the full meaning of "Give a detailed example of how you have served as an advocate in resolving a conflict."

The more I think about it, the more I wondered. At first, I felt the fool. I was the only one really taking it seriously, a paragraph for each question and still wondering if that was enough. Yet most of the questions answered had perhaps two sentences. I had many for "Describe your administrative style. Specifically include completing check-in/out procedures, room transfer process, meeting deadlines, facilitating floor meetings, etc." I mean, it seemed tedious, but I wrote it all out. And the last question, I had three paragraphs.

It could be looking too far into things, but this is the point that I realize I look at things differently from people (and perhaps don't listen well enough for my own good). Out of nine other RAs, I was the only one to go that far. I'm not saying that the other's didn't evaluate themselves--I'm sure they did a fine job, especially since some of the RAs had done this multiple times before.

Maybe this means I'm too critical of myself.

Maybe this means I like talking about myself too much.

Maybe this means I find too many things meaningful and worthwhile.

Probably all of the above.

All I know is that I could have spent most of that time doing a different paper. Or at least some more sleep.

I'm re-reading Letters From A Skeptic. I only got halfway through last time. I don't agree with everything being said, but it's nice to see a good conversation about Christianity for a change. No one is as open-minded as we think we are--me especially.

Some good music:
Magic In The Air: Badly Drawn Boy
Parade of Punk Rock T-shirts: Maritime
3 Feet Tall: I Am Kloot
Cold As Minnesota: Math & Physics Club
Nights of the Living Dead: Tilly & The Wall
Postcards From Italy: Beirut
What Will You Do When Your Suntan Fades?: Beulah
Disposable Parts: Enon
You Wouldn't Like Me: Tegan & Sara

Random Fact: New Zealand is home to 4 million people and 70 million sheep.

Add To The List

2008-04-07T08:03:00.001-07:00

You know what sound can go in the "Punch A Baby" bin?

The sound that started around 6am, of a truck using his backup beep every five seconds for ten second increments. The sound makes me want to throw many things out a window.

A first born.

Crayons.

An HDTV.

Of course, this is only with the knowledge that it would be hitting said device, if only to get it to shut up. It's like someone picked out the most annoying alarm clock in the universe and couldn't figure out how to properly turn it off. And if he can't figure it out, I'll destroy it so it doesn't matter.

Of course, this could also be because I'm crazy tired from staying up late last night. I did get a lot done, but not half as much as I wanted. What I normally have to do is tedious, which is why I put it off... But the tedious work takes time. That's why it's defined as tedious.

The snow today, as expected, is melting like the face of Toht in Raiders of the Lost Arc. Every five seconds or so the snow falls from the roof and splats the ground in a pleasing way--meaning, I hope spring will finally start because I miss being outside and laying on the grass without freezing and getting wet.

We needed the snow, though. Apparently, a foot of snow is an inch of rain. And we need every inch we can get to really bring in the greenery. Maybe, by the end of the week, I can have a picnic. Here's hoping!

boomp3.com

Since Mandikat can't talk for at least another week, as requested, she had recorded some songs to send to me when I'm feeling down. Just click on the above or go here to listen to it. There's another called Red Red Robin that you can listen to on the "View More" portion. She may upload more, as well.

Some days, I can't explain how blessed I am to have her as my friend. I can't wait to see her this upcoming weekend. It'll be a relief and relaxing. I know it's selfish, but I've been craving a relationship that has no hardships at the moment, so I'm going to take the time for all it's worth!

Random Fact: Cats average 16 hours of sleep a day, more than any other mammal. I need more catnaps >^_^<

Still Snowing

2008-04-06T18:22:00.001-07:00

Everyone is talking about it, but the main fact is: it's been snowing since 10pm last night.

I've been enjoying every second of it, actually. Though I was a bit miffed last night (I went out in dry weather in flip-flops, had to leave trudging through snow back), I love it. It's perfect weather for snowball fights, snowpeople making and also a reason to stick around at friends' houses just to chat or play video games.

I finally got my door decks up:

I really went the distance, but I like how they turned out. Since I'd put so much work into them, I ended up laminating. No qualms, though.

I still have ages of work to do, that I amazingly am able to put off without mentally going crazy.

I helped out Traci on a project for class (easy 30 second commercial). I was just in the shots, but I called in Spooner and my old RA, Andy, as she wanted some more boys to be involved. I was just going to go home afterwards, but then we ended up talking and I went over to Spooner's with Andy to play some 64, then to Crap-mart to pick up some yarn (beer on their part).

I plan on making his mittens soon enough, but I really should stop procrastinating at some point to get done with Self-Evaluations for the RA position, writing a paper and thinking up my next bulletin board for my floor. I also want to double check my stuff for my summer RA position, talk with them and see how they like what I have to offer.

I hate the end of the year. There is always way too much stress, emotionally and physically. I lose sleep thinking and doing projects. And when I'm thinking, I usually refuse to do any other material of work on school because I'm too distracted anyway. Thus, my day hours increase whilst my sleep hours diminish.

If I don't get the summer RA/anything position, I'm on the debate of what to do. I've had more than enough offers to live. As much as I'd love to be home, I don't think I'd be happy with any job. I'm really pushing my egg basket at this double job at the dorms and Gamestop.

The snow is just amazing, though. Most of the time, when I look out my window, I can't see past two inches. A lot of people are hoping for school to be off tomorrow (ha!), but I think that it won't be so bad. Unless it's still snowing, warm weather will come in and melt it hardcore. Minnesota weather is just nuts.

Gotta love Motion City Soundtrack.

Random Fact: The first penny had the motto "Mind your own business"

Miss Mandikat

2008-04-06T09:40:00.001-07:00

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Miss Hugs-a-lot

2008-04-05T15:55:00.000-07:00

What is up with these wuss hugs lately?

I have to say, if you're going to give a hug, give a hug. A hug represents the warmth and happiness you have, so when I get a hug that feels like hugging a brick wall, a small part of myself feels put out.

Given, there are multiple hardships when hugs are concerned, but I believe we can work around this an create a world where this sort of affection isn't felt as mandatory or awkward (an certainly not expected), but... natural.

I'm completely sore, though. We had Relay for Life from 9pm-6am (no, those times are not screwed up). I was already tired, but I managed. I ended up rock climbing a round, something I haven't done since New Zealand, so I'm a bit sore form that, but my feet are sore from walking so much, and then just plain continuously being on the go. We raised a little over two hundred bucks, plus spent a good amount on helping the cause. Around 6:30am, I fell asleep (it was weird to see the glow of the sun starting to rise through my window), then woke up at 2pm, as I didn't set an alarm.

I didn't really do anything today (crap). I "downgraded" my AcneFree because it was cheaper and I figured I didn't need the full 10% of Benzoyl Peroxide to keep my face clean. Everything else was the same except the repairing lotion, so we'll see what happens.

I then reopened shop with Gamestore. It's wrong for me to assume, but I'm fairly positive I'll have a job with them this summer, as well as the job as an RA. Those are my hopes, and I'm sticking to 'em.

I also ate dinner with Mr. Andy, an RA I'm excited to work with next semester. I find that I never have to think of something to talk about when I'm around him. He's full of conversation pieces, and is always willing to include me, something I've found myself very thankful for. Since Russell being so busy, Dan and me on rare speaking terms and in general being on a different time schedule... though I'm surrounded by people, I find myself sometimes alone. I'm yet again at that spot of dealing with not hanging around someone I used to everything with. The hard part is that he's hanging out with everyone else around me, which just makes me feel like I'm constantly left out and unworthy.

From what I see and hear, he's cutting off anyone who knew him well by being a dick and ignoring. Then, he hangs out with people who don't know him that well so he can be who he wants to be (whether it's real or not).

I just wish that I, the person who he said brought out the best in him, could be the friend I should be, tossing aside all of the mixed emotions and bullshit, and confront him.

I must have really hit a number with that one.

Random Fact: The most sensitive parts of the body are the mouth and the fingertips

Daydream Believer

2008-04-03T08:34:00.000-07:00

Last night, I had the worst charlie horse in my right calf leg in the history of Mallory's Charlie Horses In Right Calf Legs. I'm still sore from it this morning!

It didn't surprise me, really. From 10-midnight, I was playing basketball with Martha, Josh, and Shiloh (with a taste of Jessica ever-so-often, but her left shoulder is hurt, so she couldn't play as much). It'd been a while, and it was a lot of fun. I was reminded of how me and my brother would play during the summer. We used to have a basketball net on our garage on our other house, but we can't really at our "new" one.

We played Lightning and Pig.

Actual conversation when I received 2nd place in Pig with Martha.

Me: Damn it!
Martha: Tha'll do pig. Tha'll do.

I laughed pretty hard.

I'm assuming that all of the quick moves in the calves was what brought on the whole muscle spasm of PAIN. And then not really stretching afterwards. Since I was one of the people who set up the event, I helped tear down at the end of the night, then ended up going to my room and conversing with mother about the pain in my heart.

Since hearing that Dan wasn't going to be an RA next year, I felt really hit. Everyone else seemed to have been told personally while I was left to find on my own. I was really hurt. I was angry at myself because I decided not to say something about my concerns as a friend for him. I've been hurt for two weeks that he's barely talked to me, much less even making any normal friend contact.

To be honest, neither of us are in the clear for making that "just friends" work.

I had a dream last night that Dan, some random people and I were in a house together. I was cleaning house, picking up old stuffed animals and clearing the floor to see the white, cushy carpet that I remember thinking, "This is comfort." I can't recall why, but Dan came over holding a CD player. I wasn't even looking at him, and he placed the headphones over my ears. I jumped and looked at him, wondering what was going on. "What am I supposed to do with this?" I asked, and he held up the player, pressed play, then handed me the player. I looked down at the player, the song starting, when he suddenly crushed me against him and kissed my temple, holding tight, then letting go and started to walk away. I told him to wait, but he looked back, smiled, then motioned that I should listen to the song. There were words, but I couldn't keep them in my head for the life of me. I think this is where I started to wake up, because I remember consciously trying to concentrate on the song, wondering if I knew it or not, but the words just played by my ear and were forgotten in the dream.

I think that was the first time that Dan has ever been in my dreams.

Random Fact: We dream on average of one or two hours every night. And we often even have 4-7 dreams in one night. Five minutes after the end of the dream, half the content is forgotten. After ten minutes, 90% is lost. Dreamers who are awakened right after REM sleep, are able to recall their dreams more vividly than those who slept through the night until morning.

Have To Say....

2008-04-01T23:04:00.001-07:00

I've been reading Ctrl+Alt+Del for a while now. He's humorous, has some good ideas and it's cool to see someone achieve their dream job (that sounded really girly of me... ew).

In all seriousness, though, I tend to stick around a webcomic if it's got something I don't normally see. A "worth it" aspect.

Mr. Tim has definitely got me happy with his turn of events.

His latest idea is to turn his comic into an "Adventure Novel"-esque comic for a small period of time. Remember those sweet novels? Where you could choose which path the characters would take? I remember, mainly because mine always ended up dying some gruesome death (which, by the way, I find is interesting as they were kid books...).

I guess the commending goes toward doing something you've always wanted to do. Like those ball playpens in XKCD (I remember when that started... It has come a long and amazing way, something I'm sure I'll write about in some other post ages from now. I mean, he's three years older than me and... Well, just take a looksie here and here to see some of what I'm talking about. It's totally rhombus). I see that people achieve their dreams when they are doing what they love to do, whether it costs them money, time, perhaps even readers.

And what a cool idea: Adventure Webcomic.

I'd say this is a time to be able to invest a little more in the self. I usually find that, even if I fail, I'm happy with the outcome.

Random Fact: "Dreamt" is the only English word that ends in the letters "mt".

Ugh, Jokes

2008-04-01T17:46:00.001-07:00

The dreaded April Fool's Day.

I'm usually all up for pranks and jokes, but, when it's college students, it tends to get out of hand. Condoms on doorhandles, or soap, people tearing up signs and decorating the halls with them... It's more of a gross inconvenience than a prank. Everyone laughs if it's otherwise.

However, I was pleased at how my favorite webcomic-teers took things into their hands. They switched the website names, did each other's... Left-Handed Toons (by right-handed people) had a pretty epic one, I thought. Check 'em out asap to see the whole ordeal.

I just finished watching Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street, and, let me say... I was impressed. A lot of people thought the musical aspect was out of place, or that it was too dark... But I adored it, honestly! I knew what I was getting into Tim Burton-wise, but the music was really good, and it was funny. A dark humor, obviously, but still tasteful.

Except it got hard watching him slice the throats. Or stabbing. Not the type for slashers, really.

But it was highly enjoyable. At least a renter, in my eyes. Plus, there are a lot of celebrity name drops!

If you read the post before this, you saw that I managed to get out a poem. I actually mulled over that one for a while, writing it last Tuesday, then revisions throughout until today. It may not be finished (are they ever, especially in the writer's eyes?), but I think I'm getting better. I'm realizing the beauty of just sticking with an idea, rather than speaking a whole story. And being true to the poem, rather than the memory. Stories are for getting the whole thing out. Poetry is in the moment. At least, that's how I'm beginning to see it.

Poetry still makes me nervous to write, though. It's more intimate, to me. It's in the moment. It has to be just right. The words are more important, without all the riff-raff of miscellaneous words, such as "the" or "a," as you can get away with short sentences or create run-ons. It's all acceptable.

Writing is amazing like that.

It's Wii-Wednesday tomorrow. I really enjoy the wii-kly event (ha ha.... no?). Not everyone can come, but even if it's only for an hour, I find myself happy to share and see the friends that won't be around all the time next year, summer even.

I'm going to miss them all so much. People I met freshman year I now know pretty well, and it makes me sad to know that I didn't try to get to know them sooner. Graduating sucks.

It gets harder for me when they make such wonderful gestures of friendship, too. Blake, aka Spooner, gave me a signed poster of Motion City Soundtrack, something he got by helping out with the set up of the concert last year (he even played Frisbee with them!). Emily has entrusted talk with me, something that touches me because I have a hard time opening up, trusting in general, when it comes to friendship. Corey, someone I didn't think I'd get to know very well, even on the trip, lent me some Scrubs and I've found I have a lot more in common with him than I once thought. I'm sure he doesn't know my adoration for Zach Braff, but I usually have a hard time lending out items of electronics, as I tend to get them back scratched or half lost. At least I know he'll be around longer.

Even Traci and Martha are leaving. Traci I'd always had classes with, and she was really fun to hang around, but this year I'm really starting to talk with her and getting to know her better. Martha I've really been able to confide in and trust. Both are leaving (perhaps together in Boston!). I'm too late, it feels. I know we'll keep in touch, but I just wish...

In a perfect world, this is where I would be wonderful at keeping in touch. I would always return the call, write a letter or make the group event. As it is, in reality, I know that we're all going to have our own agenda. I've learned to accept this, and embrace any time to see old friends, waving away hardly seeing them with understanding. It just stinks where life sometimes leads us, down paths we never thought we'd be, whether for the best or not.

The blessing I feel is that I know that these people, whether we're in touch twenty years from now or not, I will consider us friends.

Unless they start a barber business, kill people, then use their bodies in meat pies. That'd be a difficult thing to get around.

Random Fact: n the year 1935 the United States Congress announced the first Sunday of August as the National Friendship Day.

management not responsible for lost or stolen hearts

2008-04-01T17:40:00.001-07:00

i remember your intent
warm hands and fitting embrace
you were not so hesitant
hands slowly sliding against my side
we dipped into a sea of darkness
the clouds and stars construed
comet tails entwined
light traced the milky way

it was a galaxy of us.

(by me)

Wishin' & Hopin'

2008-03-27T08:34:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, when the bathroom cleaner comes for our floor, I get nervous. The smell that radiates after he leaves, an overkill of bleach, makes me think that by even entering, my hair will be dyed and my skin will shrivel/get rashes. I gag whenever I use the sinks, and I don't even want my anythings near those toilets.

Ah, the dorms.

I finally got my things back from home, where I left them. You'd figure, the obsessive Wii-player I am, I would have remembered my own Wii-motes, charger and games. I think I was in a mindset to get back, knowing I was bringing more than I had initially come home with. I had even left my camera--this was a bummer as the Sunday moon was gorgeous, as well as my plans stopping along side the road to take pictures were shot (I believe I have interesting landmarks to go with my journey).

But, all in all, it's been a good week so far. We have today off from class, which means I can either get ahead in class, play video games or capture video for class (most likely the latter). Yesterday was Wii Wednesday, in which, after Seth played a few games and left for class, Emily and I were able to just sit and talk. It was fantabulous, as most of the time we're around other people and don't get to really talk.

I also got a perfect score on bowling. Seriously. It was AMAZING. I then got a 299. Emily said she's seen only one other person get a perfect. I said I was happy that someone could share the moment with me (and that she had some sort of camera, since my phone was charging in my room and my other real camera was at home. Seriously, what bad timing for everything!).

But the Wii-play doesn't stop there. After I got back, had some dinner with Martha, I was then on duty for the night, in which Leif, Russell and Martha came up to my room and we played Wii until eleven. We made Mii's for Martha and Leif. We played Super Smash Brothers Brawl. It was, indeed, a Wii Wednesday.

As for the whole "deep thoughts" of the day, I find myself inspiration-less. I find myself sick of songs just weeks ago I couldn't get enough of, and motivation quotes seem more like suggestions than a way of life. Things are never as depressing as they seem, and we can choose to wallow-weep or get up and go. Truthfully, I still feel a little touchy, that I put on a show for smiling and go along, whilst the inside soul patches itself to get ready for future. I sometimes think of what I could have done differently.

On the "far off scale," astrology, tarot and Chinese zodiac all said "move slow!" and "patience is a virtue!" It says directly in my little Rabbit Year:

"You are likely to find a new romantic interest, but try to take things slowly to avoid any disappointments in love."

I don't know why I'm so quick to blame myself for things, as I know that I not only can do so much, but I did do that much. It's weird to be the one that handled the situation and now it's not really in my field.

If I were a celebrity, I'd find another man, get pregnant and shave my head.

If I were The Beatles, I'd write a hit song that speaks only truth.

If I were Tohru Honda from Fruits Basket, I wouldn't even be having these issues because she wouldn't have let friendship leave the equation to any degree.

And as much as I wish I were Tohru Honda when it comes to many degrees, I'm me, and I have to deal with the situation in my own way. No matter of advice or mulling over will help. I'm not the only one playing the game on this court, so even some of my actions can be in vain, as there is a spot of respect I must have as well.

I just want that friendship back, like he promised. Only one boy ever stepped up to that promise. And friendship is the most important thing to me in any relationship (well, as long as you're not related to me, as family is closer in general). But I'm afraid of how tender both our feelings are.

And how time consuming relationships in general are. I have a feeling it'll be worth it, though.

Horoscope for the day--what a coincidence: "Your urge to get closer to someone in your social circle is becoming almost unbearable. But before moving forward, pay closer attention to the clues they are sending -- they are quite mixed! This person might not be quite ready to open up to you. To test the waters, keep your conversation light. Resist your urge to ask them to spend the rest of their life with you! Baby steps will get you closer to their heart than giant leaps (and they are a lot less intimidating!)."

I guess it's back to the good ol' patience module.

Random Fact: 25% of men say the best relationships evolve from friendships. 30% of men say the least attractive quality is lack of self esteem. The average man sees five women a day he would like to sleep with. 15% of men claim the most important quality in a woman is looks. 66% of men like to make the first move in a relationship.

Birthday's And Home

2008-03-22T00:13:00.000-07:00

During a birthday period, it tends to be a time to look back in the past and see what you've accomplished (as well as any other type of holiday, such as Christmas, New Years or just plain when you have time).

I've had plenty of small reminders for my age. While off in another state for my STLF trip, my father told me I got a letter in the mail for jury duty. Upon arriving home this weekend, my driver's license that proves I'm an "official" adult was in the mail (and, I must say, the picture is quite wonderful!). The puppy I adore so much is grown and fur-filled:

It's odd to be home. More so than when I was away in New Zealand, as I had an excuse to not really be home.

Of course, these aren't "normal" circumstances, you could say. Heart aching; I've managed to bring myself yet again to the emotion of the life pinch that screams, "Yep! You're alive, all right!" I've separated myself from the situation, unplanned, and it's weird to be back in a place full of things I've forgotten about.

I held a book in my hand for the first time in weeks, a book not meant for school, and my fingertips trembled at the familiar touch. It has been so long since I've indulged in my reading and writing, mind so preoccupied with things that I should not have even worried about. Everywhere, things I'd pronounced not important enough to take with me. It all seemed so foreign in a sense.

But things were still the same. Mocha, our quiet dog patiently waiting for me to come over and whisper my love. Dad working on yet another project that started out as a simple replacement and turned into a remodeling thanks to bad construction/no upkeeping from owners before us. Mom's warm arms, laughter and ideas. Keal's smartass remarks I've come to enjoy being around and inside jokes. My dirty room I can never seem to keep clean, no matter what.

I usually forget something when going one direction to another. I'd forgotten loads of clothes when I went to New Zealand. I'd left a whole bag of bathroom items when I left New Zealand. It tends to be a charger here or a CD there with these small trips, but I didn't forget anything this time. Anything I left was left intentionally. I made lists upon lists, and could only come up with some things to bring back to further the comfort of my room, such as more pillow cases, an extra towel or my baggy pants.

I started to think about what I could have forgotten, when I thought that maybe I'd just left myself somewhere. I'm so emotionally drained from the past two weeks that the only thing that manages to emerge is happiness, something that always tags along despite the fact that I lose the leash it's tied to constantly. Finding my books and past sketchbooks made me realize how I'd been focusing on myself, and that though it's important to focus on myself, the way I'd been going about it wasn't the way I'd wanted to. How could I leave such important parts of myself behind? Yoga pad, books, journals, pictures... I was planning on losing myself, or had at least set myself up for so. No wonder I was going through such a confusing emotional period.

I'm twenty-one. I have so much to still learn--at least I've managed to hit a nail in the many when it comes to infatuation. I'll hopefully hit more as I become more comfortable with myself and others. Until then, I plan on being busy with many-a-thing of back on track physically and mentally. I'm sure I'll appreciate it.

Random Fact: Thirty-five percent of the people who use personal ads for dating are already married. Jerks.

What a Disappointment

2008-03-16T23:26:00.000-07:00

I'm in the middle of watching Across The Universe. It's probably... really bad. Like, really bad. Given, I'm in the middle of the film, but it's bloody bad.

I don't like the interpretation, the (predictable) plot line or this so-called "greatest love story."

The music is great and fancy, I suppose, but I'm not impressed in the least. I feel like I've wasted fifteen bucks on something I could have done better with a crappy camera and amateur actors, which is how these guys seem to be anywho. The songs seem forced at points.

I'm beginning to think that the love in all this is only because it has to do with The Beatles. All of that money to get the rights, and this is what they came up with.

And I just saw unnecessary nudity. Really? Was it needed?

I'm all together in a bad mood anyway. I'm so sick of relationships, I could throw something out a window, smashing the glass seven stories down to a disgusting death.

Yet it seems to be the only thing anyone can talk about. Left and right, it's something about this boy, something about that girl, something that someone has that another hasn't. It's like some contest of love that I'm finally deciding not to be apart of. Who has more admirers? Or love interests? Complications in general? Who can ignore the other better in any sense?

I don't want to have to prove myself. That's not what love or infatuation or like is about. You can't make rules for love. You can't keep a list of people to "hope for," and have "just in case."

Maybe it's because I've never been in a relationship and the movies/music has distorted my vision of how it's supposed to go down, but I didn't think this would be any part of it.

While talking with Martha, The Cutting Edge 3 (worst anything ever, by the way) was playing in the background. Lines such as "I've only ever loved you!" and "I'll only skate with you... forever!" were dropped, where I started laughing my ass off. Given, worst acting in many careers, but it's kind of sad that sentences like "You're the only one for me," make me gag, yet that's what I look for in a relationship. It's something we expect, yet we're told not to expect anything because it's unnatural to expect such things.

I suppose that it comes to a point where anything close to a gentleman or chivalry, as I've only seen it in fairy tales or in already made relationships, you begin to believe that it doesn't exist. And when you finally do see it, it's a show or a joke.

As I continue to draw myself further and further from the situation, my "patience is a virtue" coming into play, I wonder which direction I'm suppose to fly. Taking a chance isn't an option anymore, as I feel my heart receding into it's old spot it remembers so well. I can't be convinced with metaphors or proof of a their skills with or around someone else.

I'm not a bumble bee. I don't know the dance to show how to get me, except for you to be yourself and show me that you have the same affection to me as I do to you.

The movie just ended. It was a disappointment, truthfully. But I still got that happy-fluttering feeling in my heart as everyone came back together as they should have.

Damn expectations.

Random Fact: Studies by Dr. Karl F. Robinson of Northwestern University reportedly prove that men change their minds two or three times more often than do women.

Rinse & Repeat

2008-03-05T22:44:00.000-08:00

I sometimes wonder why I keep doing things to myself. It's amazing how comforting it can be to be destructive. Like a fat kid to food, or the need to be in a constant relationship to prove that you're needed somehow in life.

Oftentimes, when I feel in a depressive mood, it means "it's that time of the month," though it doesn't mean that's any better. I like to think I'm a gal who can take things in stride, liking change and being okay with pretty much anything.

Yet I find myself loving routine.

The tediousness of making my bed, washing a dish, writing notes in class... and when that sudden routine is gone, I feel odd, as if a treat were taken from me. I get worried, anxious and wonder what to do with myself.

And I don't talk about it. Else wise, I'll want to talk about it all the time. So, instead, I think about it all the time. As I always tend to think and rethink things over. Who would have thunk that I'd be such a second-guesser? A believer of knowing myself, I rethink the stupidest situations of my life.

When it comes to those times, I try to find the biggest rationale; "How can I deal with this situation?"

Options:
*Freak out
*Talk
*Write
*Think some more

A little anxiety attack later, I begin to realize that none of the options above do me any good, at least in large amounts. Freaking out isn't the healthiest of options. Talking can be good, but if I don't watch myself, than that's all I'll be talking about. Writing can be a good way to get feelings out, but after a while, it's like talking--there's only so much (though, many good ideas can sprout from it). And thinking in general tends to get me in trouble, as I loop and loop in my head, bashing myself with images and ideas to a point of deciding never to deal with the situation again, which usually leads to me separating myself from said situation in every way possible, as I "can't take the heartache."

It's completely unhealthy emotionally wise. I know this. It burns down bridges, makes awkward relationships and ultimately withdraws self from others in a depressing manner. To be honest, it's downright emo.

Ever since I was a little girl, watching The Little Mermaid so many times that the tape doesn't even play properly, I'd been waiting for my own "true love." The kind that no evil can tear apart, the kind that has no wavering or wondering about the other's true feelings... you know, the crap Disney sells to us every damn movie.

But that's not the real world. We hope to see that in someone's gaze or smile. Instead, I now see relationships that hold on to each other by strings of sex. Jealousy, envy and cheating ruling the campus world. I find it rare when a true relationship emerges from the stockpile of junk, as the relationships I see tend to sprout from drunken nights where they vaguely remember making out.

Ah, l'amour.

But those only become my issues when it comes to finding the guy I adore. I don't drink, smoke, party... This could be described as the boring college girl who studies, but that's not true. I'm not impressed by someone's drunk-spell or ability to relax their minds via some drug. As much as I hate to admit it, I like feeling emotions, rather than numbness of the everywhere. I must, as I continue to place myself in certain situations for the beautiful vicious cycle to take me over.

You could chalk it up to inexperience. I've never dated anyone, or been anything other than good friends. When it comes to anything over than friendship-love, I couldn't even tell you which foot goes where. I dilly-dally so much, mouth shut, waiting patiently for his outcry of "Disney-love," then essentially crash, placing myself in a bought of self-pity and icing my heart over to promise myself that I'll never do it again, blocking away any sense of affection for fear of opening myself up.

Over the years, I've managed to place myself in many destructive situations, not just with relationships love-wise but friendship-wise as well. I'm amazing like that, I guess. As soon as the hint of "more-than" hits, I'm scurrying off, paranoid about the loss of friendship, wondering what every gesture means and convincing myself genuinely that there is no possible way that that person could like me more than a friend.

I set myself up for that.

I boast an air of finding true love, imagining a friendship blooming afire into passion, but whenever the thought shows a hint of reality, every single reason not to follow through is booming into my skull as well as a list of proof that there is no way I am looked at intimately by Mr. Infatuation.

It would be easy to break the cycle. Easy as saying, "Hey, I like you," which, by the way, can't seem to cross my lips if it means more than friendship. I have turned down four guys for my current infatuation, yet I refuse to show the true feelings for fear of... what? Rejection? Non-rejection?

I have so many excuses. I could say the things I like in a guy that could counter the reasons of all the waiting, the patience, the hopeful heart rather than the aggressive one. I want an attractive, humorous, affectionate, witty, bold, mature guy that has attention only for me, for starters. I'd like him to make the first move, as then I know his motives (and it's a bonus if he asks first, which means he respects my needs/wants as well).

I guess, the thing is, I did have four guys who made the first move. So, I'm waiting around for the one who is like a good friend, who's attention is all over the place and affections come at the cost of who knows what'll happen. His moves are on many females. And, though I'm being over dramatic on his behavior, as he's a really nice guy, I'm just ending up hurting myself all over again. Just like Senior year in High School. And Freshman year in College. Oh, and Sophomore year, too.

I have trust issues. And I'm beginning to think it's more with myself than other's.

Random Fact: Divorce rates in America
Age....................Women...Men
Under 20 years old 27.6% 11.7%
20 to 24 years old 36.6% 38.8%
25 to 29 years old 16.4% 22.3%
30 to 34 years old 8.5% 11.6%
35 to 39 years old 5.1% 6.5%

Happy Days

2008-02-23T21:58:00.000-08:00

Being "in like" is... like wondering where the hell you are in life. You just don't know.

There are so many questions to be answered, but you realize that none of them matter as long as you get that one hug, that one skin contact you crave since the last.

You toss between whether you actually like this person. You wonder if you like them or the idea of them.

But then it doesn't matter because you start to think that maybe you've been seeing what you want to see, and that it all doesn't matter anyway because you don't even know how he feels and you start to look at yourself and whether you're even good enough, and then all of those looks that you thought meant he liked you now looks like a friendship stare and you're not that pretty and you don't fit into his category of perfection and you space yourself away and then it gets awkward and it can come to a point of never knowing and you're forever in this awkward friendship phase that could have all been avoided had you just said something.

I've known him for a little over a month. I've been happy. I've been hopeful. I've been grossly girly in like.

I could talk all day about effects and thoughts and interpretations.

But all I can really do is be myself. My happy, hopeful, grossly girly "in like" self.

I've been in the cuddliest mood since who knows when, and I can't even satisfy myself with the one I'd want to.

The sick thing is, all of this could be solved with words. For a creative professional writer, that should be easy as pie, right?

Ha. You're funny.

Random Fact: The "save" icon on Microsoft Word shows a floppy disk, with the shutter on backwards.

Sniffles & Stuffy Noses

2008-02-14T16:05:00.000-08:00

I am grossly sick at the moment. Thankfully, it's not the flu, but it's bad enough that I get to deal with blowing my nose, coughing up phlegm and feeling tired all the time. It's right after my menstruation cycle, too, so I'm guessing the lack of blood has something to do with my immune system being inefficient. At least I hope that's what it is. I won't be able to handle this any longer, as it's just holding me back.

I haven't written lately, due to me doing other things I found more interesting, but not interesting enough to write about. Officially, the writer's strike has ended, but that doesn't mean much to me, as it seems all of television shows suck anyway. Heroes decided to go with a lame ending, Lost still has some make up time to do for me to officially let it back into my life and anything else has been fine. Project Runway was always good.

It was Tanya's birthday last Sunday, so we went out, ate, spent time at her apartment and talked. Since being back from New Zealand, though I miss it everyday, I've been extremely happy. My friends have been very welcoming, and I've come to see how much I take them for granted. I've also realized that I don't have to be in another country to live life to the fullest.

Every day, I smile. Every day, I laugh. Every day, I appreciate.

Sure, I get confused, struggle or feel like I'm the loneliest person in the world. But just when I start to feel anything negative, I'm taken from it by friends, who wipe the dirt off and make me feel as if I'm worth every moment. So even my lowest isn't low.

Enough of the sentimentality. Fer god's sake, it's Single Awareness Day. There's enough of that going around for the next five years.

Jerks.

Random Facts: Due to earth's gravity it is impossible for mountains to be higher than 15,000 meters.

Showertime

2008-01-26T10:20:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, I'll spend days pondering the most mundane detail. I've watched movies that I'll come back to weeks later and try to find some meaning of why I feel the need to keep coming back to what is only seen as entertainment value. We always try to find something meaningful when it really isn't, just so we feel better about our lives.

When I saw American Beauty for the first time, I found it rather ridiculous that a boy thought that video taping a plastic bag for five minutes was something interesting. I sometimes wondered if the director put that in there as a joke.

It's not that I've never found something "stupid" and found it more interesting than others. In fact, I think I think too much about things. It's just hard to talk about those kinds of things without other's thinking you're crazy, changing the subject or not responding in the least.

I like those who will humor me. Instead of saying, "Okaaaaaaaaaaay..." or "Where did that come from?" and getting offended for the oddest reason, they automatically answer truthfully, never skipping a beat.

I suppose this is the time to admit that I've been asked out a couple of times since being back, if not having passes made at me. It's been the oddest experiences with the best times these past few weeks, and all I can think about is that, in a sea of people who suddenly decided I'm worth their time, how am I suppose to find the one who is actually worth it?

I'm picky. I want what I want, and wasting time isn't my "thing."

A friend told me, "You don't have to feel guilty about going out with someone just to get experience of a boyfriend."

But I do. It's like I'd be lying to myself if I just started dating someone if we'd talked only twice. It could be old school, but I like hanging out a little before making some guy pay for dinner and a movie. And it makes me nervous when all attention is on me when I feel there are more important things for attention to be on.

I've just get these ideas of love being "I'll know," but there's no way to tell. You just follow your heart.

But my heart says wait until I know. And I'll know when I have a friend, not just someone who's willing to pay for dinner.

Random Fact: Nobody yet has explained satisfactorily why couples who marry in January, February, and March tend to have the highest divorce rates.

Hard To Do

2008-01-18T08:07:00.000-08:00

Besides running around, learning how to connect with everyone and just in general becoming a new RA, in my free time I make certain to have a nice slice of time to read my Webcomics. On the right, I have favorite comics posted! Some are every day, others are three days a week, and some take forever to update when it's supposed to be three days a week.

I have a lot of my comics just in my bookmarks, as I have over thirty I like to randomly check up on when I'm particularly bored.

One in particular I check is Marry Me, which is apparently a comic that's hoping to become a movie. It's got some great ideas and plot, which keeps me coming back, but I have to worry at times because of the writer.

I've written about the writer before, and the wonders of people continuing with comics when they've got so much on their plate already.

When a comic writer/designer (whether one is both or they come together) does their thing, every single comic I read is thankful for every person that comes to their site and reads what they have as their creative inspirations. Usually, there will always be the person who decides to not just ruin the readers days, but the creator's as well, by stupidly having an anonymous comment about how terrible the comic looks, or some stupid criticism that isn't worth breath.

But at that particular site, things just get out of hand. Not only do people say things, but the writer than starts cursing and bans people from the site for thinking one thing is lame on the site. And when someone else says, "You should take criticism better," they're banned, too.

I don't think it's a matter of criticism that's going on--most of the time, people are just being asses about the whole ordeal, and it's good to see that someone isn't willing to take the crap. But there are plenty of explicit remarks from the writer that takes away the charm of the comic for me. It's hard to read about a singer who's got ideas for helping Africa and charity when the writer is saying things that instills fear in the readers by saying "you should seriously kill yourself" and "anyone else having problems will be banned as well."

Then again, that's the beauty of internet.

I'm sure many have heard of the Internet Bulling Bill. My opinion is that it's ridiculous. This will not stop internet bullying in the least! How can everyone think this is just from the United States? This is from the World Wide Web. You see that? WWW? Look familiar? It goes in front of things such as www.google.com and www.nintendo.com! It's not that I don't see how certain people feel (see here if out of the loop), but most of those categories don't fall in supervising something that is impossible to supervise lest we start becoming communist in the sense of only allowing the entire population of our country to see and do certain things on the internet.

The category falls in:
*supervising your children
*being involved with your children
*looking hard at yourself and seeing your own faults rather than blaming others

and many others... We do need to change how corrupt so many systems have become (including the one we call family), but let's not get hasty and take it out the wrong thing.

I don't know how it feels to have a thirteen-year-old (who never should have been on Myspace in the first place) kill herself, or have some webcomic idiot take his precious time to read my comic and then tell me how stupid it is. But I do know that this isn't something. It can't just pop up it's head. It's brewed for years.

It's kind of like a cancer association. They want people to give and give, and a few do, but what really gets people involved is when they suddenly find out that they have cancer--then it's a lifetime of doing exactly what we've ignored. When will we just be good people?

On a completely separate note, my aunt just had her second baby yesterday around 5:30AM!!!!!!!!!! She named him Jude.

Random Fact: The longest place-name still in use is Taumatawhakatangihangakoauauotamateaturipukakapikimaungahoronukupokaiwenuakitnatahu, a New Zealand hill.

Miss Ellie

2008-01-08T22:31:00.000-08:00

I adore my new pup, to death, if I may. There's no feeling in the world to compare to when you wake up to what can be considered an unable-to-contain-her-excitement being.

I've become slightly attached, and have to say that it isn't really *my* dog, but my parents--I've just been taking care of her (i.e. potty training, keeping her busy, etc...).

But, the part Terrier she is means we have to tell her who's boss, as they tend to believe they run the house.

For the past few nights, she hasn't been going to sleep when she's supposed to, running around the house and whining when we're trying to sleep or won't pay attention to her. So, the kennel she goes.

She has learned a new heart-wrenching howl when she is placed in her kennel, and it lasts for at least five minutes until she decides to make due with her predicament. But during those five minutes, I have that motherly instinct--my pup is in trouble and I have to save her from her jail lest she cry into her lonely corner forever.

But we have to stay firm, so I sit here, typing this, and hope she has telepathy so she can hear my thoughts of love and comfort.

I like to think that's why she's so excited to see me whenever I come back from leaving her sight.

Random Fact: About 50% of Americans live within 50 miles of their birthplace. This is called propinquity.

Interesting To Say

2007-12-17T17:10:00.000-08:00

When you haven't been on your own computer for over two months, it's hard to get back in the groove of the technology.

Sure, you've gone on someone else's, checked emails and perhaps even written random comments through favorite websites.

But when you finally get the control back in your hands, it's complicated. You're not quite sure what to do. You only feel like doing five seconds worth of news where you once spent five hours at a time. Nothing is interesting enough to report, like it once used to be. You've had the time to re-evaluate what you once held dear, such as music and your need for a social life through people you've never met in Algeria or people you see every five seconds of your life (I'm speaking to you, Facebook-teers... I must say, get a life).

When did our nation start keeping tabs on everyone in such ways? Why do we place such importance on our status as people? I feel like we're still in Jr. High, as we're "in the know" of who did what, when and how. Even I find myself a little edgy, writing this with the knowledge that certain friends and family read this, but why should I be? Who freaking cares about the rest of the world, but why am I, personally, so afraid to write what I really care about and how I really feel and what someone else could think?

I take pride in being real. I don't get pissed at people for smoking, drinking, doing what they feel is important, I get irritated when they aren't true to what they say they are. But in order for me to be real, I have to stop being so worried about what one person thinks about me as well as how I think about others. With every post, on anywhere, it all seems so "though provoking" and "important," but it really isn't. Why people are so crazy about the internet and connecting with other's is only half because of the social aspect. The other half is of us reaching out to other's, being what we wish, being what we are and loading ourselves with information so we can impress the next person we bump into. Even our friendships seem to be a popularity contest of what we can do and know. Modesty isn't modesty anymore, but a slight delay into showing our worth, which, I think, isn't all that bad. Being what we are is the best we can all do.

Here's what I know for sure:

I am twenty years old with two parents and a brother. I live in a place that's far from my friends, but has never mattered because we find our ways to each other, even in different colleges and across the state. I own a Jeep that has a door that doesn't open from the inside, a fan that only blows on high and no air conditioning as well as issues in my transmission fluid tank. Whenever I get into my Jeep, my confidence boosts because I believe that my Jeep is the coolest thing on the road and meets my personality needs to a T.

My family is screwed up. People don't talk to other people, I don't know half my cousins and I've never had one of those huge family reunions. But I've never felt unloved in any direction. My grandparents have helped me in so many ways, I'm supported at any moment of my life by my parents and one of the best moments of my life this year was spending Thanksgiving in San Diego with my loving Great Aunt and Uncle with my immediate family less than a week after coming back from New Zealand.

I know that I love to laugh, and do so as much as possible, at anything I can, because laughing is one of the only things that hasn't been blackened by the disgusting things I've learned about our world on my adventures. I enjoy stupid things, such as doing nothing with friends and family, but at least being near them, playing Wii with my parents, and using facial toner that smells like my favorite essential oils. I love having extra safety pins handy.

I know I'm larger than the normal girl, and I hate it when people start talking about weight and pointing out how they or I need to get on the ball because I like living in the present because that's what it's all about, "it" being life. Thinking about the future is good because it gives you dreams and hopes, the things that support your spiritual being, and thinking about the past is good because you can learn from your mistakes and see how you have come to the person you are today. But the present is the most important of all, because that's how you write your past and begin your future. What you do now is the memories you'll look back on. And I've got a bet with myself to remember the good, not the bad, and the best way to do that is to make as much good as possible while having the greatest time of your life. And the greatest time of my life doesn't include freaking out that I don't look like the so-called "normal" person in a magazine that gets photo shopped literally into a woman or man that doesn't exist.

But I know that eating healthy makes me feel better. A day without junk food finds me happier, more active and less tired. When I go to bed at eleven PM, I can get up at seven in the morning ready to go for the rest of the day. I know that I lie when I don't have to, and I tell the truth when I don't need to. I know that I won't be able to handle the death of a loved one when it finally looks me in the face. And I know that I still have a long way to go to be satisfied spiritually.

I know I don't have a boyfriend and that I don't care, or care, or don't care, or care or something that I decide to figure out when it comes along.

I know a lot of things, and I also don't know a lot of things.

What I know most is that people put their choices in the wrong places. They know all of these things, but still choose the other direction. I know that exercise is illuminating and feels great, but after a long day at school or work, I'd much rather play Zelda or Wii Sports than run for an hour.

People know that by taking long showers they use up however many gallons of water. People know that they have almost have five pounds of garbage per day, but choose to file that away because they'd feel to guilty about living the way they do and don't wish to change their ways. I mean, I love Freezies, but each one has how much plastic? It's supposed to be a popsicle without all the mess, but the mess just ends up worse than just wiping away sugary liquid from our faces and hands.

Our nation isn't one of thinking at the moment. We're a nation of complainers and placing the blame. The few people that are managing to take charge need more than just followers. They don't need people who are paranoid about what their relationship is with a fellow Facebook-teer and is making up reasons why they are good to be living the way they are living. They need people who are true to their word and are changers themselves.

My resolution for the rest of my life is to be that changer.

Random Fact: Frowning burns more calories then smiling. But I'd rather do the latter.

Forever = Good

2007-11-07T03:50:00.000-08:00

This time around...

So, I've got my new tattoo.

It hurt, yes, but then it didn't. He used an eight needle, then a sixteen. Very quick, but I had no qualms. It was fun to sit and talk to the random stranger I'll never meet again (except for that hot night in Rio...). He was very calm, and I never said peep when the pain was more than the anticipated.

We talked about how he was still uncomfortable with putting tattoos on people's certain places, why someone got an alien on the back of his head (it's apparently the mascot, but also one of the employee's best friends) and the differences between Minnesota and New Zealand, particularly the North Island (as the south gets snow and the like).

I asked him how he became a tattoo artist, and he said that he'd always wanted to be one, since he was a little kid. He'd see his brothers with their tattoos and really wanted one, and wanted to make them. About five years ago, he got bumped from his job, so he got in the business. I'm very impressed with Powerhouse. It was a good call.

He also said that he didn't like the fact that anyone can do tattoos, no degree or anything, which meant a lot of bad tattoos.

Devon came with me. She wasn't able to stand behind the counter with me.

Me: May I ask why?
Him: Because it's not only a health hazard, but they're also bloody annoying!
Me: Hear that, Devon? You're not only annoying, but you're also a health hazard.

But she could see my tattoo once it was finished, and we packaged it up nicely with their surgical pads and saran wrap. Devon let me use her flip flips (jandals), in which I forgot to give back, but she has my fancy high-top wannabes, so we're even.

Afterwards, we got the famous Hell's Pizza, where I got guacamole with pinnapple (freaking fanastic tasting). In my first week, I was told to get Hell's Pizza, as it was the best pizza in New Zealand. Now, in my last week, I'm finally giving it a taste.

They also gave me free condoms.

I am so stoked for this last week. It perfect.

I went from computer breaking down, assignments being screwed up, stressed as hell to getting my tattoo, breathing calmly, getting last of my presents and having the rest of my days ahead of me.

It's amazing how quickly something can change. One phonecall can change a day, to good, better or worse. I often wonder if I've smiled at someone, causing them to change their minds completely some doing something terrible. I know I wish people would make more eye contact and smile. But I have noticed it's happening more and more often.

So, I've got one of the nerdiest days ahead of me. Lord of the Rings Day Tour. Eight hours. Elf ears. And seeing a lot of the sights. I have to say, I can't wait. I'm going to have so many pictures, videos and lovely memories from one day.

I'm really going out of New Zealand with a bang. It's exciting!

Sorry about no picture of the tattoo... My computer is still down, so it's hard to make a good copy for the nets. It's freaking sweet, however. Mark my words.

Random Fact: Strawberries hold more Vitamin C than oranges

Demand

2007-11-06T01:20:00.000-08:00

All right, students of Bemidji! It is time for us to rise and contribute to something that will actually make us proud of our city!!!!!!! Bring us all together, in harmony!!!

I demand that we demand Dane Cook. Click on that link. You know you want to, and you know you need to.

It says that there are nine people who demand that Dane Cook comes to our school. Nine. I say that that is pathetic.

We can do better than that.

So let's go for it.

Poetry Sucks 2

2007-11-04T19:33:00.000-08:00

The sequel.

I think I've found the reason why I dislike poetry so much: It's too dramatic. I mean, sometimes that's good. But I can't write that kind of poetry... It's the reason why I write my stories without some big bang romantic love; those moments don't outrank the true feelings behind love and life.

And poetry is either about that or emo feelings, which I also don't agree with. I say, get over yourself, it could be worse.

It could always be worse.

And rewriting a poem is the worst. I have to take what I originally didn't like in the first place and make something more of it. Make it bigger, more meaningful, make sure it has that "emotional center" as my teacher Bryan says.

But I don't get emotional center. I write it. And that's that. I find out what it is after I look back at it and see what I was trying to say. And if I feel like it, mold it to what I feel it needs. Otherwise, I know what it was trying to say and just leave it for some scholar in the future to find and say, "Wow, this person couldn't write poetry in the least! Let's put it on display for the world to know how the stupid people lived in her century!"

All right, so I'm getting into dramatics. Let's see what Mallory did today to tone it down.

9:40 AM: Got up and went to breakfast with new awesometastic hat.

10:22 AM: Got back from breakfast and fell back in bed to sleep a little longer. Two hours, tops.

2:00 PM: Got up from "nap" and decided I'd better really write out new poem and formal essay to go with it.

2:10 PM: Took a shower.

2:40 PM: Done with shower. Turn on MP3 player and let it blast from headphones, as radio sucks and computer is still down.

3:00 PM: Bring laundry down.

3:10 PM: While laundry is washing for those 25 minutes, check email and other things I usually check when I had my other computer. Find kiwi-bird and take it into photoshop to make tattoo. Cut a lot of background out and erased to perfection.

3:40 PM: Move wash to dryer.

4:00 PM: Start contemplating writing out poem, as know there is still things I want to add and it will take time. Click on "comment back" on Myspace account instead.

4:30 PM: Start writing on blog about why poetry sucks.

Now, my days aren't normally so "eventful." Sometimes I spend time walking through a park and imagine me doing my poetry, or laugh about poetry while ripping an undead legionnaire in half. I sometimes spice it up with talking to people.

Just kidding, I'm not that anti-social. But, in the recent, things have been a bit down because of finals. They study so much more than anyone I've ever seen. I'm blaming it on the whole school system, thing.

This is the tattoo I'm going to be getting, unless Mandikat decides to come up with a cooler design I'll be okay with on my body for the rest of my life. She wanted to take this:

but have the peacock as a kiwi instead. Which, I would find adorable. Except that the promise was made a month or so ago, and nothing yet. Of course, I understand that she's just as busy as me, so I'm not angry or anything. But I did let her know that I was getting my tattoo done pretty soon, so if she wanted to make something, she'd have to do it soon.

I'm going to get it right by my other one, probably on the back side. I've asked a tattooist about the matter, and it will probably cost around 50 bucks (less in American). If Mandikat comes through with the other tattoo, it could be more, but I wouldn't mind.

Packing has been a chore. I woke up to a messy room, papers everywhere. I know I need to pack light, but it's hard to throw out information about New Zealand and other silly attachments to my heart. But every time I look at something I know I don't need, I tell myself that I was here, so there's no need to keep every tiny paper to prove it.

I also told my mother the reason why I don't date as much, and I'm sure she was surprised. I mean, besides the whole "It takes up so much of my time," I just haven't felt the whole "Whoa." Oh, and also the fact that guys who show their unfathomable attention to me freak me out.

I guess you could say I'm just too much of an individual, so I need someone who will pay attention to me yet still be able to do his own thing. But I mainly say that, when it happens, it'll happen, and it'll just be another thing out of my control.

On a separate note, I am so stoked to see all of this Lord of the Rings shit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It seems that every week here is the best week of my life.

Random Fact: Colors like red, yellow and orange make you hungry.