Colored Ink
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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) mirage of blaze (6) witch hunter robin (18) weiß kreuz gluhen (6) naruto (21) wolf's rain (7) i my me strawberry eggs (9) get backers (12) rose of versailles (4) |
Saturday, April 5, 2003 [link] 11:34 p.m. listening to: "Hero's Theme" - Final Fantasy Tactics The latest Grayling update tears my heart out, tapdances it, and then sets fire to it while cackling merrily and doing a little dance. **sob** That is all. Saturday, April 5, 2003 [link] 01:29 p.m. listening to: "Down From Above" - Moxy Fruvous Thank you for your consolations on not making Columbia University. There's always graduate school, as I said earlier. In any case, it's down to Mills and Willamette now; I'll be attempting to visit both this month. Went out to lunch with my father today. Somehow he ended up telling me several Chinese fairy tales/legends/whatnot, and I found that I've been getting them confused for quite some time. For instance, Li Bai is not related to the triangular rice thingies that we eat on the fifth day of the fifth month of the lunar calendar, although he did drown in a body of water much like the other historical figure did. According to the original story, there was a man (whose name I have forgotten) who was very devoted to his country. When it was taken over by another country, he couldn't stand to live under another government and drowned himself. We feed him rice wrapped in lotus leaves so that the fish can't get to it. Then there's the story of the moon festival. According to my father, the Chinese have many holidays, a mid-autumn festival being one of them. We didn't have mooncakes back then, though. But during the Yuan dynasty, when the Mongols were in control of China, those from the Han dynasty plotted a rebellion. It was hard to communicate, though, and so they fashioned mooncakes, in which they put messages. When everyone ate the mooncakes, they found the message and knew the date of the uprising, and so the rebellion began on the day of the mid-autumn festival. A slightly more well-known story is that of the lady who went to the moon. I can't remember her name, unfortunately, and even if I did it sounded very difficult to romanize. >_< But actually, it starts with Ho I, who was a powerful warrior--almost a small god, of sorts. My dad had trouble coming up with a word for him, so I think he was similar to the figures you see from Houshin Engi, who were demi-gods of sorts. So, anyway, in those days there were nine suns, and of course everything was very hot and dry. Ho I grew tired of this and used his arrows to shoot down the suns one by one. The last sun grew frightened and cowered, thinking that she too would be shot down. Fortunately, she was saved by the people, who beseeched Ho I not to shoot down the last sun, or they would all be living in the dark. Ho I consented, and he became a great hero and made the emperor. Of course, such a hero has many admirers, one of them a beautiful woman that he later married. Things went well at first, but Ho I became slovenly and lazy and, in time, a very bad emperor. He became very conceited and also began to fear death. He liked his current life, full of luxury and power, and began to search for a medicine that would let him live forever. When he finally found it, however, he hid it away, planning to use it later. But there are no secrets from the woman who sleeps beside you, and his wife found the medicine and ate it. Fearing retribution from her husband, she fled to the moon. But Ho I found out, and he took up the arrows with which he had used to shoot down the suns, planning to shoot down his wife. However, after so many years of soft living, Ho I had lost his skills and failed to bring her down. She still lives on the moon to this day, since the medicine made her immortal, but she is very lonely. Friday, April 4, 2003 [link] 09:11 p.m. listening to: And by the way, I've been rejected by Columbia University. I'm upset, but really, all I can say is, "I knew it all along." And so, the almost-final-answer is: Willamette: accepted; received full ride (considering) Scripps: accepted (not planning to attend) Mills: accepted; received full ride (considering) UCLA: rejected (eh, whatever) UCSD: accepted (not planning to attend) UCB: rejected (eh, whatever) Columbia: rejected (oh well, there's always graduate school) Pitzer: accepted; received almost-full-ride (not planning to attend) Wellesley: accepted; awaiting finaid package (likely not going to attend) Humboldt: accepted (not planning to attend) North Michigan University: accepted (not planning to attend) Thursday, April 3, 2003 [link] 08:13 p.m. listening to: "ELM" - Yoko Kanno My mother's finally gone. Thank you to everyone who put up with my constant bitching and griping the past few days. I'm sure some people would die for attention like that from their parents. In other news, I'm starting to experience burnout. I always burn out somewhere around April and start slacking and doing absolutely nothing. I need Spring Break so badly. Wednesday, April 2, 2003 [link] 04:22 p.m. listening to: "Wild Horses" - Off the Beat I woke up this morning and, for some reason, the first thing that came to mind was, "120 degrees of weariness." I was so fucking tired. I dragged myself to school where I proceeded to be completely unable to think. Fourth period, I finally made up my mind to simply go home, get some rest, and be coherent. My father fortunately did not ask any questions, and in fact put down my fatigue to my mother's cooking. My mother's very into "health food" and the dinners she's been cooking aren't exactly filling, especially when we don't have rice (an Asian family without rice is a sign of true poverty, my friends). I put down my fatigue to running myself into the ground over the past couple of days, but I suppose a diet like that probably helps. That and I forgot to take my vitamins this morning, and that always makes me listless. So I came home, said hello to my grandpa (who has gone from being a stubborn, intractable, demanding old man to a rather nice and helpess and somewhat senile old man in the last few years), and then went straight to bed and slept for two hours. It did me a great deal of good. Sunday, March 30, 2003 [link] 12:16 a.m. listening to: the sounds of the media center Disregard the time and date. I'm too tired to change it. Just got back from my tour of the city for Youth in Government day. Oh my God, sofuckingtired. I'm waiting for my ride, as I have to get home and change, grab my speech, and then race back over to City Hall before 4:00. I'm eternally grateful to Jimmy for driving me everywhere, as I still do not have a driver's license or a car. I will rectify this soon, hopefully before I go to college, because I can't imagine the rest of my life not being able to drive. It would be very inconvenient. I'm still not sure if this is an April Fool's joke. I might be upset if it's not, because I don't think I'll ever get used to this new, manly-looking Kano. Will has introduced me to a rather amusing comic called Wigu. Monday, March 31, 2003 [link] 02:36 p.m. listening to: "Yearling" - Jump, Little Children College-y update stuff. Willamette: accepted; received full ride (considering) Scripps: accepted (not planning to attend) Mills: accepted; received full ride (considering) UCLA: rejected (eh, whatever) UCSD: accepted (not planning to attend) UCB: rejected (that's going to upset a few people) Columbia: waiting (GODDAMMIT I WANT TO GO) Pitzer: accepted; received almost-full-ride (not planning to attend) Wellesley: accepted; waiting for financial aid package (considering) Humboldt: accepted (not planning to attend) North Michigan University: accepted (not planning to attend) The funny thing, the gigantic envelope with all the stuff from UCSD actually says on it (in big purple letters): CONGRATULATIONS, IT'S NOT THE SMALL ENVELOPE! [Edit: It's entirely too fucking hot.] Sunday, March 30, 2003 [link] 11:19 a.m. listening to: "Penitent" - Suzanne Vega As promised, Grayling has ripped out my heart and is now tapdancing merrily on it. Joy. [Edit: In other news, I want to punch certain people currently residing in my house.] Saturday, March 29, 2003 [link] 08:15 p.m. listening to: big honkin' playlist I'm now going to ramble about several things, none of which necessarily have anything to do with each other. They're just things I really want to talk about or need to be talked about. I'm actually getting along with my mother. My father's actually getting along with my mother. This shocks me. My mother's leaving on Thursday. Although we are, for now, getting along, I'm still glad to see her go. She's an intrusion on my life I don't need. Every time she nags me about something, I want to turn around and snap, "Look, I've been fine for the last twelve years or so you weren't here. Shut the fuck up." I hope I don't become one of the people who loathes going "home" for the holidays. I love my relatives dearly (well, except for my mother), but they don't understand me, and I don't understand them. This is what happens when you grow up living mostly in your own head while all your relatives have their feet planted firmly on the ground. I don't want to say that they're uncultured or anything, because they're not, they just don't have any interest in anything pertaining to the liberal arts. None of them would ever have said anything like I said about Matt Peebles's violin solo. In fact, they wouldn't have been there; the orchestra bores them to death. They have no appreciation for art, theater, or literature. I mean, goodness, they're all accountants and the like. My father's probably the most literate out of all my relatives, which I'll probably forever be grateful for. Considering all this, what will I have to talk about with my relatives after I go to college? I'll make new friends and learn new things, and when I go "home," I'll have no one to talk to about my latest poetry class or my wacky professors. I'm not sure what they want of me. I'm not sure what I want of them, either. Do I want them to accept me? Do I want them to listen to me? Maybe that's why I don't feel any pain in leaving this place. Maybe this hasn't really been my "home" all along. Maybe that's why I put it in quotation marks. Maybe I'm still looking for a place to call home. Maybe after traveling the world, I'll find that home was right here all along. Some people are really fantastically close to their families and don't want to go far away. I respect that and I think it's great to have people you're so close to that you can always rely on to be there. That's the scary part about leaving home; the only person you can rely on is yourself. Still, I have confidence that everything will turn out all right somehow. There hasn't been anyone for me to rely on for years now, and I've managed to solve all my own problems or had them solved for me. In fact, I've gotten used to not having to rely on anyone. When people ask, "Why didn't you come to me?" or "Why didn't you just do this?" I just look at them blankly. It's not pride or vanity; it's just that asking other people simply doesn't occur to me. But then, I haven't really had any problems, either; what's going to happen when I run into my first major crisis? I've never had to deal with things like money, credit, or unemployment. But even though I have my fears, I'm eager to leave. I know that by leaving, I'll be able to see and experience new things, come into contact with different perspectives, meet new people, and maybe change and become a better (or at least different) person. I'm a little afraid, maybe, that I won't like the person I become, or that my old friends and family won't like the person I become. Still, I think it's better than stagnating, and I know that if I stay I'll never learn anything new, and that's worse to me than death. If I learn something new, then at least my writing will improve, and that's important to me. There are also smaller, more petty reasons, such as getting away from all those people in high school that I hate. I think I said earlier that it seems like my entire life now consists of waiting. Waiting for my mother to leave, waiting for high school to get itself over with, waiting for summer, waiting for college. In April I'll probably start taking a number of successive trips to visit the colleges I've been accepted to. I'm really looking forward to these trips, not just because I want to see the places I might be going, but also because it'll be an interruption to the unearthly tedium that school has become. I occasionally enjoy myself briefly while I'm there, but when I step back and look at the big picture, I realize how incredibly boring school is. I'm just waiting, after all. Don't think that I'm callous, wanting to leave so badly. It's not that I won't miss you--"you" being anyone who's reading this and thinking, "She's going to leave me!!!" Well, maybe I am callous. Maybe we're not really that close, after all. Maybe I'm selfish. We'll see, whenever I return, because I'll be a different person, then. And if we're really as close as all that, we'll still find something to talk about. Saturday, March 29, 2003 [link] 08:06 p.m. listening to: "Full of Grace" - Sarah McLachlan Just finished The Count of Monte Cristo. I actually read that book back in seventh grade. I remember loving it, and yet for some reason I can't remember a single thing that happened other than some guy going to prison and then being thrown into the ocean and then coming back to take his revenge. I probably didn't understand most of it as a seventh-grader; as I get older and go back to rereading the "classics" that I read when I was still in the single-digit grades, I find that I have much more appreciation for them now. I missed so much of the humor in Emma! Anyway, yes, The Count of Monte Cristo is a sublimely excellent book. I have no idea who the translation is by; I'll be sure to look that up, as I'm sure that sort of thing makes a great deal of difference to the quality of a book. I believe I'll try to watch the movie next, although I'm sure that it sucks massively as compared to the book. Most movies do. Friday, March 28, 2003 [link] 05:27 p.m. listening to: "Cathedral" - Jump Little Children Festival today. We got a unanimous Excellent, which kinda sucked, but I'm not upset. I'd probably be more upset if I'd screwed up majorly or could have done something better, because there's always that feeling of if I'd this this-and-this or if I'd crescendoed that one phrase a little more, that would have made a world of difference. But I did the best job I could, I didn't mess anything up horribly (flubbed a note in my solo in one song and got a little off time in another song), so all I can do is shrug my shoulders philosophically and say, "Oh well." The freshmen were really upset. Apparently Orchestra's gotten really big heads lately and they just know that they're gonna be ribbed for getting an Excellent. Orchestra A got a Superior, and the freshmen really wanted something to shove in their face. Our tuba player was speaking at a function earlier this afternoon and wasn't able to make it. It was something about his experiences with cancer, so I'm sure it was very important to him. He tried to make it, I'm sure, but we went on stage and he never came running up, so we had to go it without him. It made me a little sad, because d00d, having a tuba really adds a lot to sound/blend/balance, but it wasn't his fault and none of us want him to feel bad for not being able to meet it, because talking about your malignant brain tumor's a little more important. Rachel told me that Eddie, our drum major, found my blog earlier this week. That weirds me out a little. Hi, Eddie! Walker: There's no need to apologize for your quiz whoring, but good grief, at least archive. I'm starting to have trouble loading your page, and I have cable. Thursday, March 27, 2003 [link] 02:46 p.m. listening to: "Wild Horses" - Off the Beat I've been accepted to Pitzer College. Yay. Willamette: accepted; received full ride (considering) Scripps: accepted (not planning to attend) Mills: accepted; received full ride (considering) UCLA: rejected (eh, whatever) UCSD: waiting UCB: waiting Columbia: waiting (GODDAMMIT I WANT TO GO) Pitzer: accepted; received almost-full-ride (not planning to attend) Wellesley: accepted; waiting for financial aid package (considering) Humboldt: accepted (not planning to attend) North Michigan University: accepted (not planning to attend) |
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