Colored Ink
|
miss something? check the archives
about me name: n/aaliases: kit, kits, kit kat, the smart girl, foxay, an chin age: 17 location: socal, usa hobbies: anime, manga, reading, writing, doodling, video games, french horn likes: all of the above, being lazy, mushrooms, cheese, animals, laughing loudly in public dislikes: nuts, stinging/biting insects, religious fanatics, violence, olives contact: coloredink@mailcity add .com wishlist playstation 2car summer job a good night's sleep money stress-free life trigun dvd box set realistic wishlist dayworld by philip josé farmerkabuki by david mack moxy fruvous live noise hellsing dvd box set long-term obsessions anime/mangayaoi/shounenai clamp music animals life and living video games current obsession(s) schoolcollege currently reading nothing newcurrently playing ffxdevil may cry currently watching hana yori dango (20)utena (23) gto tv (27) ccs tv (19?) mirage of blaze (6) witch hunter robin (17) kogepan (10) weiß kreuz gluhen (6) naruto (19) wolf's rain (5) i my me strawberry eggs (6) |
Friday, February 28, 2003 [link] 09:19 p.m. listening to: nothing Get Backers is a show that comes up to you, tantalizes you with kickass characters and cool action-y bits, and then puts its arm around your shoulders and says quietly, "By the way, feel free to write gay porn about me." And will someone please tell me why Iruka acts shy and embarrassed and BLUSHES LIKE A DAMN SCHOOLGIRL in Naruto 20 while talking to Kakashi? I mean. . . augh. . . why? What are you doing, series? AUUUUUUUUGH. Friday, February 28, 2003 [link] 04:26 p.m. listening to: "Let Me Fall" - Cirque du Soleil This entry made me think. As some of you reading this (like, three of you) already know, I have difficulty expressing myself in "real life." I find it much easier to get my thoughts down on paper. I'm not terribly eloquent when it comes to the spoken word, and there's something about actually describing, say, a sunrise, in poetic language that sounds awfully silly out loud. So I communicate myself much better on paper. But two loves somewhat close behind are art and music. I'm not particularly good at either, although somewhat recently I started following the path of music. Music is an enormous part of my life. It influences my mood and my writing. It's not something I like "escaping" into so much as just a part of me. People who come to my house will find that I almost always have music playing. Anyone who reads this already knows that I'm part of the band, and lately I've been toying with the idea of double majoring in English and Music. So, what exactly made me choose music over art? It wasn't a conscious decision, of course, but something that happened naturally over the course of time. I don't have what I'd call "talent" in either field, though some people think I have talent in art. I don't draw very well and I've never taken a serious art class in my life. What I do know about art consists of cobbled-together bits of advice from other artists, book and online tutorials, personal experience, and some observation. My anatomy and sense of proportion still have serious flaws, and I can't shade or color to save my life. Drawing is something I no longer do seriously--most of my art consists of doodling in class--whereas music is something I'd love to do seriously, full-time. It's something I'd love to do for the rest of my life. I think maybe it's because I never really got training in art that I "gave it up." If I'd gotten some proper art lessons, maybe I'd like art enough to pursue it as more than just a time-killing hobby. Or maybe it's because I don't have enough talent to be able to express myself adequately in art, whereas music is something I can really immerse myself in. Too bad I can't write music, either. >_< Friday, February 28, 2003 [link] 04:17 p.m. listening to: "Let Me Fall" - Cirque du Soleil So I ask Becca about this Xanga blog of hers, and she says she discontinued it. Ah well. She has a livejournal now! Visit and watch her run on at the mouth. This girl is probably one of the biggest anime/manga fans you will ever see. Besides which, she's a seiyuu ho, too. Friday, February 28, 2003 [link] 11:50 a.m. So, I'm in the media center, and Sunshine (it's a nickname) is checking blogs next to me. And what do you know, it's Jean's blog! And Becca's blog! So, you guys have all been hiding from me, huh? Thursday, February 27, 2003 [link] 06:15 p.m. listening to: Libera There's nothing I can really say, because many people have already delivered much more touching memorials. But still: Goodnight, Mr. Rogers. We'll miss you. Thursday, February 27, 2003 [link] 03:56 p.m. listening to: big honkin' playlist I just spent the last few minutes staring blankly at the pitas form. I'd forgotten what I wanted to talk about. ^^;; NOT school, assuredly. I've done enough damage, and I passed the last test, and I'm actually slightly ahead instead of just-barely-keeping-up, so I'm good. For now. Oh, right, I wanted to talk about my dream. Commence EGGIE DREAMBLOG STYLE! I am in an underground marketplace of some sort. It resembles Pier 39 in San Francisco or Pike's Place in Seattle (only without all the food), all sorts of neat shops and things and wooden planks underfoot, but all underground. I am with some of my friends, I can't recall who, and we're wandering around just looking at stores and things. (A lot of the dream was jumbled up and out of order, so I'm trying to recount things in chronological order instead of how they happened in my dream, because at some points it was going backwards.) I see a poster with a picture of a girl on a motorcycle. Someone--a storekeeper, I think--tells me that she used to be famous and part of a biker gang, and participated in pagan rituals that involved mass female orgies. However, something happened that changed her, and now she runs a shop in this very place. I seek out her store, which turns out to be little more than a cramped booth. Rachel's already there, along with another friend. The biker girl is behind the counter. She looks very normal, with short blond hair and blue eyes. Somehow, I get the impression that she used to have a lot of piercings, but most of them are now gone. I browse her store. It's mostly knick-knacks. I find that she's trying to sell everything in the store so that she can leave the area and start over somewhere else, or something like that, and everything's going to be donated to charity. There's a sign on the wall over her head that says she's made four hundred something dollars so far. I look for something to buy. Among the trinkets that she has are small, self-wetting sponges that become wet when you squeeze them, and little bags of something that's like potpourri, but not. I mean, they contain small flowers and dried plants and things, but they're nowhere nearly as overpowering and sickening as potpourri. Rachel's already bought one. She tells me that she hates potpourri, but she likes these. She was trying to figure out what was in them, and at first thought it was rosemary and something I can't remember, but now she thinks that can't be it because rosemary drives her crazy. I'm looking for something inexpensive to buy, because I don't have very much money. I contemplate buying one of the sponges, which are only a dollar each. But when I look in my wallet, I discover I actually have more money than I thought I did--over twenty dollars. So I start contemplating the more expensive items, such as the stuffed animals on a top shelf. I spot one ratty-looking doll of Bubble, one of the dinosaurs from the old Nintendo game Bubble Bobble. I'm immediately taken with it and ask to buy it, but the girl apologetically says that it's already on hold for someone. I'm disappointed, but when I turn I see that it's on hold for Wendy, one of my schoolmates. A guy comes up behind the girl and whispers something to her. She nods, and then asks us to watch the store for a few minutes. Then she puts on an enormous nose ring (I have no idea; it was in my dream) and leaves. At this point, I wake up. Wednesday, February 26, 2003 [link] 08:28 p.m. listening to: "The Queen and the Soldier" - Suzanne Vega Do NOT, I repeat, do NOT take seriously anything that I say in my bitter blog entries. It's just the anger and bitterness talking. And I'm not really that depressed, I sweartagawd. It's just that I get really stressed, and then I temporarily sink into this sort of infantile lunacy where I think my problems are worse than everyone else's. This has been a public service announcement brought to you by Bacteria, Which Are Really Boring Compared To Viruses. No, seriously, they are. Viruses are fascinating, in a horrifying kind of way. [Edit: OH MY GOD I DON'T WANT TO READ ABOUT BACTERIA ANYMORE.] Wednesday, February 26, 2003 [link] 05:14 p.m. listening to: Libera And now, a break from all the whining about school! I just watched the first episode of Get Backers, and I [HEART] MIDOU BAN. That is all. Wednesday, February 26, 2003 [link] 02:45 p.m. listening to: the same Okay, yeah, the euphoria has passed. I am just very. . . bitter. And angry. But mostly bitter. I am, as I said before, an intellectual snob. I am what people call "smart." I retain information very easily. I was once told that the average person remembers 10 percent of what they read. This surprised me, because I easily remember at least 50 percent of what I read, if not more. If I write it down, that percentage jumps up to something like 70 percent, probably. This has made my classes very easy for me. I do not have to study material over and over again in order to "get it." In fact, most of the time, I don't study at all. Studying is something I do perfunctorily, because I know I should, and because I know it helps me. If I studied for all my tests, really studied, I would probably easily get solid A's in all my classes. But because I'm lazy and I don't want to do more work than I have to, I don't study and just kind of let it slide. This is a curse as well as a boon. While it makes me the envy of any of my classmates, it's also a wonderful way to trap myself. Because, like Jasmine, if I don't get it, or if I'm doing badly on my tests, it must be my fault. And I'm very reluctant to ask for help because, as I said, it's my fault, I just have to try harder. But if I try harder, and it still doesn't work, then what can I do? This eventually leads to a downward spiral in which I am angry at myself, then depressed, then angry, then depressed again. To make matters worse, this also makes me envious of the people who're doing better than me, because obviously they must have something I don't. I hate and envy Kaie so much that I could cry. Yes, I admit it. I don't take failure very well. This is because I don't fail very often. Usually, it's a case of, "Oh, I just need to try harder." And I try harder, and I get it. But I'm beginning to face things where, no matter how hard I try, I still fail. And I don't like that. I don't like the feeling that there are barriers before me, because they were never there before. Wednesday, February 26, 2003 [link] 02:35 p.m. listening to: the silence of the media center I have this wonderfully bitter, raging entry all worked out in my head. It involves rampant envy of people who are smarter than me and do well in their classes without even trying, AP Biology, and ends with my breaking into tears and planning for a horrible accident to befall myself simply so that I won't have to deal with this anymore. But I really don't have the heart for it now because I'm in something of a good mood. Why? I met Andrea Lee, otherwise known as Knee, otherwise known as Jasmine's section leader. We had a nice little chat where she explained why she's called Knee (it's her Vietnamese name, and it's not really pronounced the way it looks) and told me that Jasmine had an attitude! Heehee. She was very nice and funny. ^_^ So, those of you who were anticipating more academic angst, sorry to disappoint you. Maybe I'll be bitter again when I get home. Actually, I will be bitter again when I get home because that's really all I am nowadays, but maybe I just won't blog about it. Tuesday, February 25, 2003 [link] 03:50 p.m. listening to: "Agnus Dei" - Libera Hey, Gen, I archived. You can change that link now. It rained a little bit today, drizzling on and off as if to spite the weather report that said there would be buckets of rain, one storm after the other. I thought of fox weddings on my way to class, the sun shining brightly as small, silent raindrops pittered and pattered their way into puddles. The school didn't flood at all, the sump pump for once able to do its work faster than the water. I told my dad about the flood problems my school's been having, and he snorted. "You know what they would have done in my school, back in Malaysia?" I asked what, and he said, "They would have handed buckets to all the students and told them to do a little work. Think, five hundred students, all with buckets--how long would it take to bail the water out?" Not very long, of course, and five hundred is only a fraction of the students my school currently contains. But, you know, no one ever thinks of simple solutions like that, especially in America, where we're supposed to be more advanced. And we don't have enough buckets, anyway. |
blogs better than mine friends amberdagger gen jasmine jean jen kelsey walker will ppl i wish were my friends lexnatalie neil gaiman otherpeople places to go shameless plugs blue tumbleweedscasm colored ink hogwarts post rpg role-play network the book my side7 gallery notus bebhinn friends book of genismhanaeda's corner lost intent shike.org snag studios pirates' alley ex-technomancy productions willf.org yaoiville non-friends bishoneninkcasualvillain.com crimson tears firecat fanfics hanashika.com impossible kitsch mooncalf oki doki rabi's headquarters scribbled spaghetti sekai seifuku the void tourniquet twoflowerian fiction comics sinfestboy meets boy the boondocks foxtrot for better or for worse something positive bruno unicorn jelly arcana saturnalia megatokyo penny arcade faux pas jack suburban jungle mac hall my life in blue kagerou [mirror] return to sender bite me strings of fate your wings are mine (Y) sexy losers spellshocked sabrina electric sheep other cool sites anime news networkanipike dictionary.com explodingdog elfwood epilogue gamefaqs kekkai.org livejournal orisinal otakuworld side7 themeworld the onion toriyama world yerf zany video game quotes i owe my stress to pitas.com |