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miss something? check the archives name: n/a aliases: kit, kitsuki de kage (don't ask), hey you, the smart girl, foxay, kitkat, kittykat location: southern california contact: coloredink@mailcity.com you have to add the .com age: 17 hobbies: anime, manga, drawing, reading, writing, video games, French horn likes: all of the above, being lazy, laughing loudly in public, animals, mushrooms dislikes: bugs and insects (especially the stinging kind), ignorant people, religious fanatics who attempt to convert everyone in sight, violence, olives playstation 2 20-30 gig hard drive car summer job a good night's sleep money stress-free life dip pen + ink dayworld by philip josé farmer kabuki by david mack over the rhine cd moxy fruvous cd anime/manga yaoi/shounenai clamp music animals life and living candles video games my mice school (**cries**) ffx the great gatsby by f. scott fitzgerald ff6 ffx galerians (sieangame) hana yori dango (16) gravitation oav (1) fruits basket (17) ayashi no ceres (11) utena (15) rayearth (8) gto tv (4) ccs tv (8) blaze of mirage (3) |
Thursday, June 6, 2002 08:50 p.m. listening to: "The Boxer" - Simon and Garfunkel Wow, I love this song so much. Just got back from the Orchestra/Choir Spring Showcase-type thing. Boy, that sucked dead donkey balls. I fucked up so badly it's not even funny. Shoot me now! And also, I really hate those new halogen headlights on cars. Whatever they did to the streetlights is just fine and dandy, but it's really bright when a car with thos newfangled headlights is heading at you. I mean, it's just scary. Thursday, June 6, 2002 06:07 p.m. listening to: "The Boxer" - Simon and Garfunkel I gave blood today! It was my first time giving blood, so I was kinda nervous. They gave me a thick binder to read that told me how they used sterilized equipment, how my blood will be tested for viruses and diseases, how I might feel dizzy and sick and stuff, and what kinds of questions I'll be asked on the form. Then I was given a form that had questions like, "If you are a male, have you had sex with another male since 1977?" and "Have you ever had given money to someone to have sex with you?" and "Have you ever taken any illegal drugs?" Then I went inside and talked to a nice lady who was apparently new at this (an older Red Cross worker would occasionally stop by and ask how she was doing and remind her what questions to ask me). She pricked my finger and checked my blood cell count. Then I went and lay down on a cot-type thing that I was too short to get on properly. They gave me a stepping stool thing. After a moment of nervousness, they finally stabbed me and took my blood. I had to squeeze a thing to let the blood flow faster. I didn't feel dizzy or anything, but after I was done and got off the cot and sat down at a table I discovered that I did feel a little woozy, and my right arm didn't seem to function properly. Yeah, they bled my right arm. I'm right-handed. Fortunately, I could write again after about fifteen-twenty minutes, so I wasn't too badly off. Anyway, they gave me juice and some cookies and a nice lady made conversation with me (to keep me from falling asleep, I think). They gave me a nice sticker and a pledge card that says I will donate blood during the summer. Apparently, they're always really short of blood during the summer months, because then kids are out of school and there are more accidents because everyone's on vacation. For the entire day, people who saw the bandage around my arm asked me, "Did it hurt?" After a while, I started answering them with, "Yes! It hurt a lot! I was screaming and crying the whole time!" One person asked me "why?" I really had no response to that. Because my blood can save lives? Because I am a Nice Person? Because I like pain? What? The best part, though, was when one person said to me, "You're brave." Wednesday, June 5, 2002 08:04 p.m. listening to: "Skara Brae" - Ultima Online I tend to forget bits of hiragana when I don't practice, so today I got through a few pages of Yami no Matsuei vol. 5. Unfortunately, I forgot to take my glasses off, and reading those tiny, tiny characters with them on gave me a horrendous headache. But with the aid of a dictionary, I got through the Tatsumi flashback scene where he recalls breaking off his partnership with Tsuzuki as well as the interesting little illusion with his mother and Tsuzuki. So sad~! My life is still boring and stagnant. I'm giving blood tomorrow! Yay. And the Orchestra concert is tomorrow, dammit. Monday, June 3, 2002 08:43 p.m. listening to: "Master of the House" - Les Miserables 10th Anniversary Just got back from the Spring Concert. It went pretty well; there were a few "oopsies!" but overall it was good. And I got a copy of the Les Miserables soundtrack! Wheeeeee! And now I must do my Chemistry homework. Monday, June 3, 2002 04:51 p.m. listening to: "Down From Above" - Moxy Fruvous / "Horse With No Name" - America I love this song more than words can say.  Find out which Discworld girl you are. Er, yay?  Find out which Discworld novelty you are. Joy! Spring Concert today. I can't say I really want to go, though we've been preparing for this concert for, what, almost a month? Maybe it's just because I have a tidy amount of homework this week. Sunday, June 2, 2002 08:07 p.m. listening to: big honkin' playlist And now, yet another FFX report. I'm sure you're all sick of these by now. At this point in time, I'm beginning to notice serious inequities in the performance of my characters. For instance, Tidus is really fast, but he's got really low HP. He does a fair amount of damage, but not nearly as much as Auron, who's got around 1600 HP. Wakka and Kimahri have really high HP, too. Yuna has a pathetic amount of HP, although today I finally got her up to approx. 900 HP, which is where Tidus is. Lulu is also around 900 HP right now. Blarg. Auron kicks so much ass. I finally got through the Mi'hen Highroad today and the road to Mushroom Rock. Wow, that took forever. At first, I wasn't going to take a chocobo, but after fighting a few too many battles I turned back and used my free rental thing for fighting the "fiend with a taste for chocobos." I lost the first time, actually; the stupid thing knocked me off the cliff. I'm the kind who hates to lose, so I restarted and the second time I just went all-out and smashed it with Aeons. Mwahaha. It took forever. The chocobos are so damn cute. I squealed when I saw one flying. Hovering. Fluttering. Whatever. And I laughed when it kicked a treasure box open. That was the cutest thing ever. And the way they squeak! EEEE! It was really sad, talking to all the people about how they would defeat Sin, especially when I saw the little kid swordfighting with the big man. "C'mon, harder, harder! Do you want to avenge your sister or not?" I just knew they were all going to die. And I was right, too, but even knowing that didn't prepare me for the sight of Sin just vaporizing them. Good God, that was terrible. I find myself wanting to know more about Jecht. His thoughts, his motivations, his feelings. . . Seymour looks and sounds so gay. He's really freaking powerful, though. His magic attacks do a third more than Lulu's. Defeating the Sinspawn with him in my party was a cinch. It took forever the first time. My Aeons are ridiculously weak. Is there a way to level them up? God, I love this game. Saturday, June 1, 2002 10:32 p.m. listening to: nothing I just got back from the musical at school! It was fun. I'd say more, but I'm tired and I want to go to bed. So I'll just say that highlights of the evening included Andi Scott as Annie Oakley from "Annie Get My Gun," Jimmy Hang as Simon of LeGree from "The King and I," and Enjolras from "Les Miserables" with black roots and a Chinese accent courtesy of Nicholas Liu. Actually, the latter was more ammusing than anything else, but he seemed really into his role, so it's okay. Marius with spiked hair was something else, though. My father is watching "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon." He seems to like it. Saturday, June 1, 2002 04:16 p.m. listening to: "Haunted" - Poe Took the SAT IIs this morning. They were freaking hard. It felt like the morning of the AP test all over again. I had a very strange dream last night. I don't know where it came from. It was about this woman and the ghosts in her house--or maybe another house nearby, because I remember seeing them through the cracked and broken windows of a Victorian ruin more than once. One of them was her son, and I remember seeing him die as a little baby and somehow turn into an older man instead, with a creased face and thin, lanky body. I don't know who the other ghost was, but he looked remarkably like Vincent Volaju from the Cowboy Bebop movie (beware of spoilers when clicking the link). They worked hard to protect the woman from more grief--it was like they knew the future, and they tried to avert it. But her husband died anyway, in the crossfire of a gunfight, and it almost destroyed her. The ghost of the son yelled at the Vincent-lookalike then, furious, accusing him of not being there, of not doing his job. The husband would not pass on either, and he remained with the other two ghosts to protect the woman. She was crazed with grief, after losing an infant son and her husband, too. But she recovered, and either she must have married again or been pregnant when her husband died, because she had another son. I saw him in my dream, looking about seventeen years old, completely normal, and the ghosts were still there, watching over things. One moment of the dream I remember clearly was when someone was talking to the husband just after he died. "Did you see the ghosts?" she asked him. I don't know why she asked that; there are many things in my dream I don't remember. "Yes, I saw the ghosts," he said. "There were two of them." They were watching from the window of the house then, chagrin written clearly on their faces. "And now?" "And now there are three." "Three?" "Yes. There is me." Friday, May 31, 2002 06:35 p.m. listening to: "Down From Above" - Moxy Fruvous / "Horse With No Name" - America I am bitter and angry and depressed. Okay, so the shittiness really started with yesterday. Last night Wendy arrived on my doorstep in tears, and I spent the rest of the evening listening to her, calming her down, and basically giving her moral support. She had, basically, run away from home. Wendy does not have the best of family lives. Her father shuffled her off to live with his sister (Wendy's aunt) while he basically went off to cavort with his girlfriends. Wendy's aunt is the ultratraditional kind, as in "If you're female, you're going to be a housewife." Since Wendy is female, she has been raised to be a servant and a housewife. She begs to differ, but that's very difficult when she's living under her aunt's roof off of her aunt's money. Her aunt has never given her a chance to be self-sufficient (aka she won't let Wendy get a job), and she's not planning to let Wendy attend college. Of course, when Wendy turns eighteen that'll be a moot point, but she has to turn eighteen first. The final straw came when Wendy's aunt found some of her romance novels and read them. Then she told Wendy that she was not going to be allowed to read anymore. After a week of suffering, there was a final blow up where Wendy basically left the house and came to mine. She didn't have anything; when you're that angry and frustrated, you're not thinking to bring your backpack. I calmed her down and let her talk. Then she called Linda, we spent some time wandering the streets, and eventually Wendy spent the night at Linda's apartment. I didn't sleep until midnight, just wondering and worrying. So the next morning I was a little cranky from lack of sleep and a little worried and a little stressed. The French horns were annoying me more than usual (although I don't think they were doing anything different; I was just in a bad mood), and first period I had a good scream and let some of it out. Lunch time was the NHS induction ceremony, which I pointedly was not at, and basically there was this little knot of people in Ms. Monahan's classroom being bitter and depressed and just rambling nonsense to each other. I think I cried. I can't even say why I'm so upset about not being in NHS. I think a lot of it is rooted in what happened to me with AP Government. I very much want to talk to Ms. Johnson about why I'm not in NHS, but at the same time I don't want to hear her reasons. I don't want to hear her say, "Well, I got some warnings about your work ethic" or "We were afraid that you couldn't keep up." I don't want to be read any more recommendations from my teachers talking about how I'm irresponsible and/or prone to procrastinating. I'll probably cave in and talk to her eventually, but for now I just want to be left in peace. It's okay; NHS would have just been more work, tutoring and doing volunteer work and servicing and crap. (Sour grapes; that's all it is, sour grapes. I bet they were sour anyway, and wormy in the bargain.) I guess I've always felt this need to prove myself. I don't even know why. Who am I proving myself to? My father? Yeah, sure, he thinks I'm a dumbass. I'd like for him to stop thinking I'm a dumbass. But being in NHS wouldn't change that. I'd just be a dumbass who's in NHS. He'd say, "Wow, how'd you get in? You're so stupid." Blah. I love my dad, but sometimes I wish he'd be a little more encouraging. It's tiring, always having to encourage myself. I got a hundred percent on my math test. I haven't gotten a hundred percent on a math test since sixth grade. If I get screwed over for AP Biology and AP Literature, I swear, I'll just kill myself or something. The thing is that, really, I have no problems. So I didn't get into NHS. Boo hoo hoo. I have clothes on my back, a roof over my head, a new bicycle, a computer, an Internet connection, three meals a day--really, I have more luxury than I know what to do with. And I'm whining about how I didn't get into AP Government or the National Honor Society? Big fucking deal! My friends' parents are being laid off left and right or getting divorced, my friends are scraping together spare change for food or trying to escape from abusive households, while I never have to worry about my father being laid off (he manages his own business) and I live in the lap of luxury. Why the hell am I complaining? I'd get stone drunk if that would make me feel any better. |
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