Colored Ink
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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, May 23, 2002 09:02 p.m. listening to: "Freshmen" - Verve Pipes I'd like to thank everyone who has said nice things to me about my rant the other day and/or sent me emails. It's not as bad as I make it sound, honestly. Okay, the situation with Hala is frustrating me, but I can deal with it. And I was just ranty and distressed and frustrated. I'm better now. Jasmine: You realize, of course, that this means I also chase around little flying gold balls on a broomstick. Walker: I don't think talking to her would do any good. I have though about it, but discarded the idea because it would accomplish nothing. The problem lies in the fact that we have differing philsophies, and no amount of talking is going to change that. At worst it'll cause animosity, and in a section as small as the French horns that'd be disastrous. In other news, Mrs. Lopez is once again irritating the class, this time with a long lecture on AP classes. It's nice that she cares, but that doesn't give her license to be a snarky [censored] about it. Wednesday, May 22, 2002 08:33 p.m. listening to: "Gin" - Drew Bunting I went cycling again. I wasn't planning to go very far--I still have no stamina, and I'm still a little sore from the ride home. But I wanted to get out a little bit and forget and maybe practice my hand signals. After a little while, I stopped to put my seat up, thinking that if it were a little higher I might have a more comfortable ride. As I flipped up the quick-release, the car across the street suddenly turned on its headlights and beamed them right on me. I froze; I was scared, I thought maybe they were targeting me for something, and the lights were bright--the new headlights are far too bright, I think. But they did nothing, only sat there, and I quickly fumbled with the seat and pushed the quick release back down as quickly as I could. The seat was crooked, but I didn't care, I was frightened, I was paranoid, and I tore off with very little regard for my own safety or the other drivers. It wasn't until I got home fifteen minutes earlier than I anticipated that I wondered if whoever it was had been trying to help. And now for some long-overdue social blogging. Eggie: I'm sorry. **hugs** Jasmine: I was beginning to wonder if I were on crack and Neuromancer really was by Gackt (that'll happen to you when it seems like everyone and their dead grandmother thinks it's by Gackt). Thank for your alleviating my paranoia. Becca: I once read a quote that went along the lines of, "Having courage means being scared shitless and doing it anyway." I think you're right; actually, I've known that for a while. Anyone who stops and thinks about knows it, I think; it's just that many people prefer not to think about it. Admitting you're afraid, however, is the first step to overcoming that fear. But I'm still afraid of spiders. Walker: Well, you missed the Chapter 14 test, but you can make that up. Better not miss the Golden State Exam tomorrow, though; you can't make that up. Wednesday, May 22, 2002 05:11 p.m. listening to: "Call Me Call Me" - Yoko Kanno I was depressed for a little while today. Well, I was frustrated at first. But with me, frustration tends to turn into depression. I mean, I've been really frustrated with the French horns for a while. Okay, not all of the French horns, mainly Hala. Not that I dislike her; she's really cool, you know, I respect her a lot--outside of band. When it comes to band, she drives me insane. I'm section leader. I call sectionals. She doesn't come to any of them. That's fine, I understand she's busy. And it's not like she sucks or anything; she has nice tone, good range, and she knows her part, so whatever. Garland can only come to the Friday sectionals cos he's got SAT classes and ROP and whatever--also understandable. Rachel's the only one who's come to the sectionals, which is fine because she tends to need more work (since she's only been playing for, like, two years). Lately, Rachel's been playing better than Hala. Well, she still doesn't match Hala's tone, but that's mainly because Hala's been playing longer and good tone tends to come from experience (not always, but it does make a difference). If Rachel keeps improving at the rate she is, she'll be outplaying Hala next year. Which is a good thing, because I think Hala needs a really good kick in the butt. Hala is literally holding the rest of the section back. She doesn't like to play hard music, she doesn't like to stick out, she doesn't like to play solos, she doesn't like to play, as far as I can tell. I don't even know why the fucking hell she's in band anymore, at this rate. Am I expecting too much? Am I wrong in expecting the first chair French horn to, you know, enjoy playing? Or maybe even want to improve? Yes, it's after Festival, but we still have the Spring Concert, and does the doctor stop being a doctor when he goes home? Does the teacher stop teaching when the students leave? **incoherent sound of rage** We do not stop being musicians when Festival is over. So I was really frustrated, because it was a no-play day first period and I wanted to practice. As it turned out we couldn't have practiced, anyway (we would have disturbed the other classes), it was just the attitude of my section that pissed me off. Why am I here? I want to give up, but I know I won't. I'm too stubborn to give up. But god fucking dammit, I would like some respect around here. This all spiralled into depression after a while, because I started thinking of Jasmine and how much I suck compared to her and RAR RAR RAR I HATE MYSELF. That kind of thing. Which, of course, made me think about how it always seems like I'm staring at someone's back. Like Kelvin, for instance, graduated from San Gabriel High with a cumulative GPA of 4.67 (I'm not kidding; that's what his mom told me) and went to Standford. Majored in computer science or something like that. He works for epinions now. He also makes me feel like a whiny little dork. Not that he's purposely being condescending, he's just so brilliant. When I talk to him, I feel like an insipid teenager. I am an insipid teenager, but I'm not used to feeling that way. Or there's my father. MA in Oceanography, MA in math, and BA in business. Or was that a BA in math and an MA in business? Something like that. But my father puzzles me, because he's so brilliant, and yet so clueless. He also thinks I'm stupid, but sometimes he thinks I'm remarkably clever. Never mind, my father's just confusing. It seems like the only way in which I excel is in the liberal arts/humanities, which is really fucking ironic because that's the one area in which, really, you have no job security. At least if I were an accountant like my innumerable cousins, I'd be sure to always have a job. In theory, anyway. Have I mentioned how much I suck compared to Jasmine? I can't play, my section doesn't listen to me, and I feel like we never get anything done at the sectionals. Never mind, you don't need to compare me to Jasmine, I suck just fine all by myself. RAR. **bangs head against table in frustration** I just want this year to be over with so I can kick Hala's ass out of first chair. I think that will make me feel much better. I felt better after third period, and then somehow my depression passed on to Rachel and she had an emotional breakdown. This means you must all email her and tell her how cool she is and how much you love her. Now. Monday, May 20, 2002 05:07 p.m. listening to: "Dreams of Our Fathers" - Dave Matthews Band I was driven home today by Neil's mother, a tiny Filipino woman, soft-spoken but strong. She asked me how my day was, talked about going to her son's GATE meeting, scolded her son when he didn't help me close the door. She was so generous and careful, and insisted on taking me to my doorstep (to make sure that I would get home safely). I wondered what it was like to have a mother like that, to have a mother at all. Neil is very lucky. Sunday, May 19, 2002 06:27 p.m. listening to: "Stones II" - Ultima Online Played 5 or 6 hours of Final Fantasy X today. Wow. Mrrrr. Graphics. Eye candy. I was fascinated by how you could actually watch the characters' lips move and their facial expressions change. Obviously, the graphics aren't perfect, but they're really damn good. Gah. The cinema scenes are truly breathtaking, especially the Blitzball tournament in the beginning and, of course, the Sending. I've just finished the Trial of Cloisters at Kilika; I have Ifrit. The game has some really damn fine music. I had a little trouble adjusting to the controls and the battle engine--it's been way too long since I've played any kind of console game, I think--but once I got used to it I really enjoyed it. It's strange; I hated the Junction system in FF8, but I love the sphere system in FFX. It's complicated enough to be interesting but easy enough to not be too time-consuming. The ability to switch your characters in and out of battle is really freaking useful. I also love how you're now able to hit two or even three enemies at once. Why is it that I use Arabic numerals for FF7, 8, and 9, but a Roman numeral for FFX? Hm. This game has the ability to make me cry in the same way that FF6 has the ability to make me cry. I think it's the way in which you get attached to the characters. They worm inside you, somehow. Except I can't suddenly burst into tears at Kevin's house, or he'll be Very Alarmed. But I definitely found tears creeping in during the Sending, and all the times Wakka is talking about his brother Chappu, and maybe other times as well. . . I don't even remember anymore. Is it just me? It's not just me, is it? I love the characters. Well, Lulu I feel lukewarm about so far, but I like her wry humor and I'm sure that I'll like her later. Kimahri hasn't done very much, so I can't say anything about him (but his devotion to Yuna is touching). I adore Tidus; he's just an ordinary guy, after all, and he's got such fluffy hair. I burst out laughing when he ran into the Cloister of Trials; "Like I care!" Wakka is precious. Auron kicks ass. Even minor characters like Luzzu and Gatta are endearing. I even like Yuna, which surprised me; I've been finding myself liking the Final Fantasy females less and less. But there's something in Yuna that made me appreciate her, a young woman trying to do a grown man's job, trying to follow in the footsteps of her father. I can't wait until next Saturday. Saturday, May 18, 2002 08:27 p.m. listening to: "Lord, I Have Made You a Place in My Heart" - Cry Cry Cry I went bike riding today. Only half an hour or so--I have no stamina as of yet, and I didn't want to stay out too late. Tested my new headlight and taillight. The taillight is very bright. The headlight is brighter than all of my flashlights. It doesn't illuminate much, though. It probably does zilch for visibility in true darkness, without streetlights. But the law says I must have one, and so I shall. It probably makes it easier for cars to see me, anyway. And now for an installment of. . . of. . . something. I keep thinking "otherpeople," but that's a blog, not a. . . whatever it is I'm doing, here. i saw a woman today, while cycling. she wore deep browns and greys, like a forest in the middle of autumn. i thought i heard something, while pedaling close to her, and i realized that she was singing. i don't know what language it was in and i couldn't see her face in the dark. perhaps she was not even singing a song, only making notes to guide her way. when i passed her, i said "good evening," but then i wished that i had not. she had a beautiful voice (what is it that we listen to on the radio nowadays?), and whatever she was singing, it made me think of home. I looked for her on the way back, but I didn't see her. I was disappointed. Thursday, May 16, 2002 05:29 p.m. listening to: "Gin" - Drew Bunting I had an interesting time home today. I got a ride home from "Crazy Edward," who's a very nice guy who drives like. . . like. . . like he's crazy, really. Stacy and Jade confided that you get used to it. I thought I was going to die. On the way, we were supposed to drop Jade off for her tutoring session. But apparently her tutee did not tell her the apartment number, and so Edward patiently went with Jade to talk to the people in apartment A, who told them to check apartment B, who told them to look at the listing in the front. . . Stacy and I waited in the car and wondered what the hell they were doing. Then Edward took me home. Poor Edward. Jasmine: Well, at the moment Toni does not ride like a dream. Toni rides like a piece of crap. Hopefully she will ride like a dream when I get the seat fixed. Clem rode like a dream. I miss Clem. Apparently, he's of a very popular "comfort" model. |
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