Colored Ink
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miss something? check the archives about me name: n/aaliases: kit, kits, kit kat, the smart girl, foxay, an chin age: 19 location: oakland, ca 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 a good night's sleep money stress-free life trigun long colt keychain cowboy bebop dvd box set ipod world peace realistic wishlist dayworld by philip jos?farmerkabuki by david mack lucifer by mike carey infernal affairs ii long-term obsessions anime/mangayaoi/shounenai writing music animals life and living current obsession(s) infernal affairsfullmetal alchemist currently reading rosencrantz and guildenstern are dead by tom stoppardcurrently watching hana yori dango (20)utena (23) gto tv (39) witch hunter robin (18) naruto (58) get backers (27) rose of versailles (19) matantei loki ragnarok (15) scrapped princess (14) peacemaker kurogane (15) fullmetal alchemist (28) sailormoon live action (25) |
Tuesday, June 22, 2004 [link] 11:21 p.m. listening to: "Ghost" - Indigo Girls Website has been updated. Very, very late, and also, paltry. I'm very sorry. Those of you who wanted fireman sex--and you know who you are--it's there. No, it is. Keep looking. Tuesday, June 22, 2004 [link] 12:35 a.m. listening to: "Olivia" - Edie Brickell and the New Bohemians Holy crap, just when I thought Scary Go Round couldn't get any better, IT DOES. It sheer genius makes my internals writhe in ecstasy. Speaking of genius, I bought and read the first volume of Mike Carey's Lucifer the other day. All I can say is, damn, I wish I'd bought volume two, because holy fuck do I ever want to read more. Lucifer is one of the best anti-heros ever, all cynical and uncaring and brutally honest and frighteningly intelligent. Besides, how can you not love a Sandman spinoff? If nothing else, you get oblique references/cameos of Sandman characters. (Un)surprisingly enough, my favorite story/chapter in the first volume is the very last one: "Born With the Dead." Besides the wonderfully scratchy art style, I love the whimsical, matter-of-fact tone. And the old granny ghosts. Hee! And Lucifer hardly shows up in it at all, but still. I really don't know why I didn't buy volume two. I actually read the entirety of volume one in the bookstore (Linda and I decided to camp out at Borders that day; we had drinks and snacks and everything). I purchased it because, well, I'd gone there with the intention of buying it. Why didn't I buy volume two? Aaarrrgh. And also, why are graphic novels so expensive? >_< Although Lucifer, for some reason, was cheaper than I expected--several dollars cheaper than Sandman, in fact. The world is weird. Friday, June 18, 2004 [link] 05:38 p.m. listening to: "Home for a Rest" - Spirit of the West Work today was filled with RAGE. I nearly flung my (wireless wheel) mouse at the wall, it was pissing me off so badly. Swapped it out for a corded wheel mouse; much better. And for some reason people think I must know everything in the world there is to know about electronic equipment, which resulted in my wrestling with a digital camera fifteen minutes after I was supposed to leave. Turned out the camera was low on battery power, and that's why it wasn't doing anything. D'OH. Why can't I just tell people to go away? And I didn't get In-n-Out today. I so wanted a grilled cheese animal style. Oh well. Maybe next week. Today, I have roti canai. Wednesday, June 16, 2004 [link] 04:41 p.m. listening to: nothing Sometimes I wish my family would leave me the hell alone. Do they think I lost all this weight through magic or something? Obviously I must be doing something right. So stop nagging me already! Monday, June 14, 2004 [link] 01:54 p.m. listening to: nothing Boring day at work again, although I was busy enough this morning. Kelvin sent me an email with a bunch of computer-y things to do, ranging from installing Spybot Search & Destroy on some of the computers that have free and unreigned Internet access (the rest are installed with filters) to finishing the reformat of a spare box to assigning one of the computers a static IP in order to deny it access to the Internet entirely. It took much longer than anticipated, mainly because of some obstacles that came up. Well, for one thing, the Internet connection kept dropping today. Don't ask me why, I don't know, I'll just assume it was SBC's fault. It's fine now anyway. Anyway, this makes it hard for me to download and install Spybot. Meanwhile, the box that I'm supposed to finish installing turns out not to have an ethernet driver, which means that I can't connect to the network or the Internet. Kelvin suggests upgrading it to WinXP Pro, which ought to have the driver, and then just change the key (my bootleg of WinXP Pro has a corporate key that's been blocked). Groan. What a pain in the ass. So I start upgrading it to WinXP Pro, and then it turns out it can't because it doesn't have all the software it needs, ie: the ethernet driver. I turn off the box that call it a day. The assignment of a static IP and the consequent denial of service went all right. I learned something new, anyway. I'm very sleepy. I also haven't updated my site in a while. I'm sorry. I'll get to it eventually. It's just, you know, all this work. When I have a day off or whatever, I don't want to do anything remotely like work. I've always had some kind of, I don't know, jealousy for people who know where they come from, by which I mean people who know their family tree and can name the countries their ancestors came from. People with diverse family backgrounds. People who came from the Browns, who used to live in Kentucky, and then who moved to Canada, and then who married the McKintoshes, who were originally from Scotland and came over because of the whatever, who married the whoever, until blah blah blah eventually ended up in California. People who are a little bit Irish, a little bit French, a little bit Native American, a lot something else. I'm a little envious of those people because I'm, you know, Chinese. Just Chinese, like a quarter of the world's population. And I don't know the least thing about my family past my grandparents, and I probably never will. My parents never knew their grandparents, and they're not so good with the recordkeeping in China, especially back then. I'm glad I never had to do a family tree project. So I was thinking about that today, and then I realized that I do have a connection with my ancestors, even if I'll never know who they were or where they came from or where they went. I still speak Chinese, a little bit, and I plan on becoming fluent. I use chopsticks, I eat Chinese food, I bow to shrines. I remember my heritage. How many people--and by "people" I mean "Americans," who all came from somewhere else--of Scottish descent eat Scottish food? How many people of Cherokee descent speak Cherokee? Heritage ceases to have meaning at some point and becomes merely a statistic. Some people keep the past with photographs and pieces of paper. I keep the past in the way I live. Saturday, June 12, 2004 [link] 09:01 p.m. listening to: big honkin' playlist Reasons I dislike my cousin's ex-husband: **a few years ago, at a family dinner, after I won some speech award or another** Him: Well, that's great, but you're not going to become rich or anything. Me: What? Him: I mean, who makes more money, a speech and debater, or a pro football player? **at an all-you-can-eat Mongolian BBQ** Me: **after one plate** Whoo, I'm full. Him: Really? I brought you here because I thought you'd eat a lot and get my money's worth! **last week, he came over for a Lakers game and they ordered takeout** Him: Hey, you want some? Me: (has already had dinner, and also, the food looks mostly like pork and beef) No thanks. Him: Whoa, you're refusing food? Lil Rachel (cousin's daughter): **selects a cup from the drawer** This is a sissy cup! Me: That's nice, dear. Lil Rachel: My dad says Mickey Mouse is for sissies! Me: . . . yeah, that sounds like something he'd say. In conclusion, I AM SO GLAD MY COUSIN DIVORCED THIS GUY I HATED HIM WHEN I WAS SEVEN, TOO. Friday, June 11, 2004 [link] 01:06 p.m. listening to: "Obsession" - Siouxsie and the Banshees Feeling better. Didn't go to work today. Throat is more sore than yesterday, if that's possible. I feel like I'm trying to swallow a razorblade. Thursday, June 10, 2004 [link] 10:30 p.m. listening to: "Closing Time" - Leonard Cohen I think my fever finally broke. I'm not in pain anymore, at least. And I was actually able to eat and not feel nauseous. I read one of the Baby-Sitters Club mysteries while in bed. It cracks me up how bad the stereotyping is. The tough, atheletic, take-charge girl! The Asian-American beauty! The sophisticated New Yorker! And, best of all, the platinum blonde, blue-eyed Californian who's a health nut and doesn't eat red meat! AH HA HA HA HA HA. Oh man. Dawn (that's the Californian) was eating a sprout-and-tomato sandwich at one point. I just about died laughing. Claudia (that's the Japanese girl) is actually probably the least stereotypical in that she's not a "smart Asian." She actually doesn't do well in school at all, and she's really creative/artistic, contrary to the popular belief that all Asian parents want their kids to grow up to be doctors and lawyers (which is, uh, semi-true, but). But then again, her family seems really Americanized. I was waiting with bated breath for some mention of chopsticks or soy sauce throughout the entire book. And also, do these kids seem more like they're in high school or what? Which would really make more sense, because what parent in their right mind trusts a thirteen-year old with their kids? I wouldn't even trust a thirteen-year old with a pair of scissors! And the two eleven-year olds who're babysitters? Whaaaaa? Eleven-year olds practically need babysitters themselves! The really sad thing is, I want to read the "special edition readers' request" book about Logan, the Token Male of the club. OMG!! Logan, the tough kid hanging with the rough crowd???/// Can this really be????////?/? Maybe the fever hasn't entire worn off yet. Thursday, June 10, 2004 [link] 09:03 p.m. listening to: "Together Alone" - Crowded House Woke up this morning with a sore throat, which usually means that I'm sick or about to become sick. Shrugged it off and went to work anyway. A few hours later, I'd determined that the whole being-upright-while-feverish thing was just not working out for me. I ached, and it was spreading, but I really, really didn't want to ask someont to drive me home. Finally, though, my aunt accosted me and said that we were going to go get mushroom tofu (yay!). I asked her to take me home instead, because I was feverish and beginning to feel nauseous. We ended up getting mushroom tofu anyway. So I've been sleeping today, on and off, and popping a Panadol (the Asian version of Extra Strength Tylenol) here and there. I still ache, the fever doesn't seem to want to break, and it's really, really boring being in bed all day. And yet, when I get up and try to do something besides sleep, my body informs me that it would rather be lying down, thankyouverymuch. Stupid body. In related news, I seem to get really weird food cravings when I'm sick. Earlier, I wanted really sugary, bad-for-you cookies. I had some Oreos. Just now, I suddenly wanted spicy food. So I had some fried mushroom tofu with chili. And now my body's doing that wants-to-be-in-bed thing again, so I'm going to go lie down. I hope I can go to work tomorrow. Wednesday, June 9, 2004 [link] 01:15 p.m. listening to: nothing Dude, I haven't blogged in almost a week. Here, anyway. Is this what work has done to me? . . . I guess so. I mean, I don't want to blog about work, because that's what I do all day. But when I get home, I don't do anything except, like, run on a treadmill, eat dinner, and then sit on my ass for two hours talking to people online. . . . wow, my life has reached a new height of boring. Anyway, work is more boring than usual today. Blah. Friday, June 4, 2004 [link] 08:36 a.m. listening to: "Simple Gifts" - Yo-Yo Ma So yesterday I visited my old high school. It took me a little over an hour to walk there--which MapQuest tells me is a distance of 2.83 miles. While wearing all black. In 89 degree weather. I bought a waterbottle on the way and sporadically poured it over my head. I think more of it went on me than in me. But Dasani isn't worth drinking, if you ask me. It just happened to be what was available at Kmart. Today I woke up in a happy new world of pain. My legs, oddly enough, feel all right; the calves are maybe a little bit tender. My back, however, aches all the way up and down. That long walk also seems to have killed my shoes, as the sole is beginning to peel off one of them. Yargh. And now, to work! Tuesday, June 1, 2004 [link] 11:12 p.m. listening to: big honkin' playlist Actual good day at work today. I have a long-term project, one that's going to take me all summer to complete. As a matter of fact, I probably won't be able to complete it at all, but I'm damned well going to try, just for the challenge. For the curious, I'm going to be scanning all the pricebooks in the shop and convert them to .pdf. You'd know why this is a challenge if you've seen all the pricebooks in the store. The other employees are starting to talk to me. Some of them still don't know who I am, since I was never really introduced. I'm just this punk kid who shows up and starts doing odd jobs about the office. But they're all very nice people, although some of them have a tendency to talk down to me, which is a little annoying. I know I'm like half the age of any of them there--and the only female, to boot--but at least treat me like I have a brain, please? But it's not like I act my age most of the time (and how exactly is a nineteen-year old supposed to act?), so maybe that's partly my fault, too. But doing all this scanner work means that I get to do other things while I'm scanning. It's easy enough to disable the filter that my uncle put on all the computers to keep employees from surfing the Internet (I am a bad, bad person), and I can even chat a bit on AIM. Not that much, though, because I do need to get my work done, and the scanner's pretty darn fast. Too bad I'm not using some kind of dinosaur scanner; then I could chat for maybe five minutes at a time instead of fifteen seconds at a time while waiting for the preview to load. At least the scanner isn't very far away from my desk. Well, I should floss and brush my teeth and go to bed. I'm beat. Sunday, May 30, 2004 [link] 12:31 a.m. listening to: "Cathedrals" - Jump, Little Children It's fucking Sunday tomorrow and I may not be able to see any of my friends. Cry. What the hell is there to do on a Sunday by yourself when you don't have a car? Maybe Siean will come over tomorrow. I can comfort myself with that, at least. Saturday, May 29, 2004 [link] 05:59 p.m. listening to: I am kind of unhappy and angry right now. And maybe a little bit depressed, but someone once said that depression is just anger without the energy, so that makes sense, right? If it seems like I do a lot of whining about my job and how it sucks out my soul and how I will die if I continue working for nine hours a day six days a week, it is so I avoid thinking about other things. I joke about how "grown-up" my life has become. This is so I don't have to think about how my current situation is providing me with a wonderful excuse to, day by day, become slowly more and more depressed. I am all alone in a strange house. I serve no useful function at work. I don't drive; I must rely on others to get me places. I don't spend my own money. I hardly have any meaningful human interaction all day. In other words, I feel like baggage. Useless baggage, at that. Why don't I drive? Because I see no compelling reason to drive. Not up north, where there's actual functional public transit. Here, yes, there are very real reasons for me to drive. Every single day, someone at work asks me, "Don't you drive?" followed by "Why don't you drive?" Every time a relative sees me, they ask, "Do you have your license yet?" followed by "Why not?" Well, I can't afford a car or auto insurance. I can't afford parking. I can't even afford gas. If you want me to drive, buy me a car and pay for the insurance for me. Do you think I like being driven around? I like my life to operate on the principle of equivalent exchange, to use Full Metal Alchemist terms. If you're driving me somewhere, I'll repay you whether it be in money, food, or company. If you don't want to drive me, fine. A year at college in a strange city with no means of transportation has taught me how to get along without a car. A year at college in a strange city with no means of transportation has taught me that people who do have cars do not appreciate being used as taxis. That's why I ask for a ride only if I deem it extremely necessary (especially since when I get home from work, there's generally only an hour and a half of daylight left and a lot of that has to be devoted to chores) or if I feel that it'll give us an opportunity to have some time together. Because God knows I don't see my friends very much right now. Wait. What friends? I left them all up north! I have two close friends in the area and their hours conflict with mine. They're not out of school yet. When I get off work, they're either just starting work or will still be there for another three hours. I go to work early, so I can't even see them in the mornings (when they're not at school, anyway). I don't even get much time to talk to my online friends anymore, since most of them live in different time zones and I don't log on until past eight o' clock. Work isn't much good, either, because I serve no real function there. My last project was to redesign the website, which was fine, except that I really couldn't stand to sit on my ass and code for eight hours straight. I don't know how CS majors can stand it. But once the website was done, I was at loose ends. Today my project was to figure out how to computerize the company's paper data, which didn't take very long after I determined it needed expensive software we didn't have. I need purpose in my life, and especially in my work. When there's no goal, I get edgy and restless and feel useless. I'm really beginning to hate Southern California. There aren't any restaurants that I can eat at, people don't understand my diet (how the hell does "no beef, pork, or dairy" translate to "vegetarian"?), the public transit sucks, the air is foul, and the weather is horrible. Today I wondered why the hell I bothered to come home at all. To make money? I could have found a job up there. To see friends? Well, I'm sure not seeing much of them. In conclusion, FUCK YOU AND THE CAR YOU DROVE IN ON. And now I'm going to go, I don't know, do something productive and meaningful. HA HA HA. Saturday, May 29, 2004 [link] 05:02 p.m. listening to: nothing ARGH I'M WORKING ON MONDAY AND I'M NOT GETTING PAID OVERTIME WHY GOD WHY Thursday, May 27, 2004 [link] 11:11 p.m. listening to: My life is looking uncomfortably grown-up. Except without the whole paying bills part (thank God). Unless you count my credit card bills. I get up at 7:30 AM, shower, brush my teeth, and eat a quick breakfast of raisin bran. Then I go outside and wait for my ride. I clock in at 9 AM and work until 12 PM, when I get an hour long lunch break. Then it's back to work until 6 PM. I get home around 6:30, I water the garden and wash the dishes if there are any. I cook tomorrow's lunch, if I have any ingredients. Dinner at this point is whatever I can scrounge up. I also exercise on the treadmill for half an hour. By the time I get everything done it's 8:30 or 9:00, and I go online for two hours or so until I fall into bed. DEAR GOD, THIS IS GOING TO BE MY LIFE IN TEN YEARS. I think I had something interesting and exciting to talk about, but I no longer remember what it was. I come up with all these blog entries I want to write about at work, but then when I get home I just stare blankly at the screen. I'd talk about how work sucks out my soul, but isn't that what everyone complains about? [ETA: Oh, now I remember! I used Dreamweaver today. It was kind of cool, only I don't really know what I'm doing. Besides which, I'm anal-retentive and used to coding things in Notepad, so Dreamweaver kind of freaked me out. I'd type something and it'd spit this weird code at me and I'd be like "ACK! No, not like that!" and rewrite it. So I guess maybe it didn't save me that much time at all.] |
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