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, comic books, reading, writing, doodling, video games likes: all of the above, being lazy, mushrooms, animals, food, laughing loudly in public, SUSHI dislikes: nuts, stinging/biting insects, religious fanatics, violence, olives contact: coloredink(at)gmail.com wishlist playstation 2car a good night's sleep money stress-free life trigun long colt keychain ipod hardon-kardon speakers 19" flatscreen monitor world peace realistic wishlist dayworld by philip jos?farmerkabuki by david mack infernal affairs ii dvd-rom long-term obsessions anime/mangayaoi/shounenai/slash writing music animals life and living current obsession(s) smallvillecurrently reading the dark is rising by susan coopercurrently watching hana yori dango (20)utena (23) 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) smallville (2.19) |
Tuesday, January 25, 2005 [link] 04:02 p.m. listening to: nothing I am notoriously cheap about some things. Mainly, things for myself. If I can cut corners, I will. I don't balk at $60 gifts for my friends, no. But printer paper? By golly, I will steal paper from the computer lab. Last semester, however, I found a way to procure paper for myself without feeling guilty about it. I take paper from the recycling bin! A lot of it's perfectly good, one-sided paper. Nobody's using it, since it's already used, so I take it and use it for printing rough drafts, Chinese character practice sheets, fanfiction, etc. I was thrilled, last semester, when the printer in the lab ran out of ink. Unwitting students printed anyway and threw away their faded essays and online readings. It was like striking gold. I hate it when people crumple paper before sticking it in the recycling bin. How unnecessary. What this is all leading up to is an announcement that I hit a veritable motherlode. Someone chucked upwards of sixty pages in the recycling bin. Sixty pages! Holy crap! Add to that the previous thirty pages of scratch paper I have in the printer, and I can last for quite a bit on this. Conclusion: Captain Planet loves me. I should archive my blog soon. Someone remind me. Tuesday, January 25, 2005 [link] 11:55 a.m. listening to: "Holding Out For a Hero" - Frou Frou Look ma, no drama! I feel like I can think clearly for the first time in weeks. I remain cautiously optimistic. Perhaps this is only the eye of the storm. Monday, January 24, 2005 [link] 05:57 p.m. listening to: nothing I'm just a huge fucking drama queen today, apparently. God, I hate it when I'm a huge fucking drama queen. I hope I snap out of it soon. I'm going to go to sleep now. Maybe that'll cure it. Monday, January 24, 2005 [link] 02:31 p.m. listening to: last exile I'm so tired. I'm so goddamn tired. I just want to lie down and not get up again until I'm good and ready. Last night, I had a dream that I woke up on the couch in my cousin's house, and my niece was standing over me. "Mom!" she yelled. "She's awake!" I vaguely remembered lying down for a nap on the couch. It seemed like a very long time ago. "What day is today?" "Tuesday," my niece replied. "What day did I go to sleep?" I asked with a vague feeling of horror. "Friday." I had a not-so-great night last night and I think I made it worse, and I have a feeling today might not be so hot either. Maybe I should just go to sleep for a few days. Would do myself and maybe the world a power of good for me to just be absent for a while. Sunday, January 23, 2005 [link] 07:46 p.m. listening to: "Blue Eyes" - Cary Brothers I'm addicted to this song and I don't know why. It's. . . incredibly emo. But there's this one chord, this certain progression of notes in the middle that strikes me every time. I think I listen to this song for that alone, that perfect synchronicity of major and minor. Several people have remarked on the vitriol of my blog lately. It's simultaneously alarming and comforting. Alarming because, well, people actually read my blog. Comforting because. . . hey, people read my blog! I don't think I've reached the point where I feel like I have to censor myself; my entries are vague more because there are certain things I don't feel like putting on the Internet, less because I fear certain people reading them. Some things are best discussed in private, or best of all kept in my own head. I finally have alcohol again. Malibu + Diet Vanilla Pepsi = Happy. all of the lights are on and you are alive but you can't point the way to your heart. . . So. Fucking. Emo. But I can't stop listening anyway. It's like a sort of fascination or something. I feel like a cat, sitting in front of the clock waiting for the little bird to pop out again. Friday, January 21, 2005 [link] 12:38 p.m. listening to: ghost in the shell stand alone complex For those of you who don't know, I quit my job last semester. After I registered for classes (which was sometime in November), I told my boss, "I'm taking six classes next semester. Consider this my two weeks notice." On my last day of work, mid-December, I turned in my key. It's January, and I'm still here. I have in front of me a list of tasks. And all I can think is, I quit. This is no longer my responsibility. But no, silly me, I told him, "Sure, I'll be happy to help out here and there until you find a replacement." No replacement has been found, apparently. At least I'm still getting paid. And I'm not missing class on Monday. Friday, January 21, 2005 [link] 07:56 a.m. listening to: nothing I also hate being lied to. Thursday, January 20, 2005 [link] 09:28 p.m. listening to: "Personal Jesus" - Marilyn Manson I'm a control freak. I fully admit it. I am a control freak. I am not anywhere close to content or happy unless I'm in control of my circumstances, or at least think I'm in control. I like to talk about how "zen" I am, how I just "go with the flow," but the truth is, I want to be in control. I have to ability to settle back and be nonchalant in a situation like, say, being lost, because I know that eventually, we will find out way. If I were in a similar situation but uncertain of the outcome, believe me, I'd be puking with anxiety. Right now, my life is going fine--great, perfectly, stupendously--except for the nasty, gnarly little bits that I don't have any control over. I'd drink, but right now I have no access to any of my alcohol. I'd smoke, but I might have bronchitis. I obviously need to take up some kind of athletic, strenuous sport that lets me beat the shit out of inanimate objects. Preferably without hurting myself. I'm missing some skin off my knuckles. Wednesday, January 19, 2005 [link] 10:24 p.m. listening to: "Battleflag" - Low Fidelity Allstars I HAVE THE SWEETEST ROOM IN THE SWEETEST LOCATION EVER. I just moved into a double. Yeah, a double. BUT WITH NO ROOMMATE. It's what my school calls a "super single": a double that's been converted into a single. So I have two beds, two dressers, two desks, two closets, etc. It's really small for a double; I can't imagine two people actually living in here. But it's way, way too much space for one person, which is fine by me. **giddy laughter** I have to pay more, yeah--but it's so, so worth it. My subwoofer is back underneath my desk where it belongs. I don't really like how my bed is next to a window, but it's impossible for it to not be next to a window because I have THREE WINDOWS. Eleanor called my room "the stoner room" because there is so much ventilation. It's too bad I don't smoke pot. So this is what it feels like to work in a corner office. **sits back and takes a puff of her imaginary cigar** In conclusion, I win. At everything. Those of you who want to crash in my room for a few nights/days can, just be aware that the other bed is out on the porch and it's pretty fuckin' cold at night. Bring a sleeping bag. Wednesday, January 19, 2005 [link] 09:23 p.m. listening to: nothing I discovered a new pet peeve of mine today. Actually, it almost crosses the line from "pet peeve" to "something I may kill you for." I really, really dislike being hung up on. In fact, I'm surprised at the depth of my rage. Who knew? Sunday, January 16, 2005 [link] 12:33 a.m. listening to: One of my Resolutions should probably be to blog more often here. I mean, I pretty obviously haven't abandoned my pitas blog completely for LJ, but I don't blog as often as I once did. It's kind of interesting, the way my blog has evolved over the years. I seem to recall a time when I blogged about my life, as in, "I did this, and then there was event A, and then event B." And then eventually it degenerated into half-coherent ramblings and mental promenades of a highly masturbatory nature. Hrm. I'm not sure if I like this. But I'm fairly sure people still read this blog (for reasons I cannot fully comprehend), and some of them may read it to, like, keep up on my life and stuff. So maybe I should blog some more. Keep those people entertained. Friday, January 14, 2005 [link] 05:32 p.m. listening to: random mp3s I'm home! For values of "home" being "the dorm," of course. I have a new neighbor who seems very awesome. Eleanor is taking a bath, and then we shall shortly be going out to dinner and to pick up some items she left at home. Mayhaps we will stop by Bed Bath & Beyond and I will splurge on some new sheets, since Dagger's new sheets totally make me jealous. Friday, January 14, 2005 [link] 02:44 a.m. listening to: nothing I keep coughing. It was something mild at first, a bit of cold that crept into my lungs in Illinois. I woke up one morning with that scratchy feeling in my windpipe that's occasionally relieved by a cough. Nothing major, and I thought it'd go away. I don't feel sick. There are no other symptoms. It's just this stupid cough, and it's gotten worse. I woke up this morning rough-voiced, and throughout the day I couldn't seem to stop hacking. I still can't, and I hope it's not keeping anyone up. It's a wet cough, too, which would be worrying if I were prone to worry. It's not like I haven't had wet coughs before. I don't know what kind of state my life has descended to if I have nothing to blog about except my health. But what else is there to say? I move back into the dorms tomorrow and classes start on Wednesday. I still don't know what I want to do for the rest of my life. My schedule is not yet finalized because I will, once again, have to go through the hell that is Enrolling in a Class at UC Berkeley. I may take five (well, six if you count that retarded Information Literacy class, which I do only if I want to sound scary and impressive) classes. Over the last few days I've read up to volume five of Banana Fish (excellent manga), the first two trades of Ultimate Spiderman, and all of 1602. My planned trip to Europe with Eleanor is turning out to be Extremely Expensive and may or may not be canned. . . . all and all, none of this is quite as immediate as my cough. Wednesday, January 12, 2005 [link] 02:08 a.m. listening to: whatever's on Eleanor's iTunes Today I spent the morning in Berkeley, reading in used bookshops. I had lunch at a Vietnamese restaurant and borrowed some books from the library (it turns out I have read The Dark is Rising sequence, I just don't remember any of it). Then I took the BART to El Cerrito Plaza and read manga and Ultimate Spider-man in Barnes and Noble until it was time for dinner. Dinner was sushi. Ah, how I love being back in the Bay Area. I'm staying at Eleanor's house for a few days until the dorms reopen, which is this Friday. I look forward to spending a few more leisurely summer days like this, just reading and playing with the cats and generally being passive. It's nice. Wednesday, January 5, 2005 [link] 06:00 p.m. listening to: nothing I seem to be snowed in at Dagger's boyfriend's house. There are nice people and three cats, and also cable television. I went sledding for the first time today, which was fantastic, and also made a snow angel and went down a frozen slide. I'm tremendously homesick. Tuesday, December 28, 2004 [link] 08:48 a.m. listening to: none Leaving for Chicago now. Hold all my calls, etc. Saturday, December 25, 2004 [link] 11:58 a.m. listening to: "Blue Eyes" - Cary Brothers Happy Holidays, everyone! Monday, December 20, 2004 [link] 11:50 a.m. listening to: "On the Turning Away" - Pikn Floyd Had a really bizarre, cool dream last night. I should have written it down earlier, because now of course I've forgotten most of it. I do recall that it involved quite a few RL friends of mine (Eleanor, Kitty, Lynne) as well as some guys I don't think I'd ever seen before in my life (some random jocks?). But anyway, we were part of this experiment thing that we didn't know about, within the school system, where we ate/drank this weird experimental substance that made us hyperintelligent. When we discovered what was happening, of course, it became this rats-of-NIMH scenario where we tried to break out of whatever school we were being kept in (I think it was a high school). Or something. Towards the end of the dream, we located the control group, where there was only one girl left, and fed her the weird stuff so that she'd become super smart and join us. It was much cooler in my dream. Trust me. Also, I am most definitely sick with a cold. Sunday, December 19, 2004 [link] 11:15 a.m. listening to: "Are You Out There" - Dar Williams Crippling boredom is less prevalent now. Same for vague depression. I am adjusting to being at "home." I think I might be a selfish bitch. I'm not quite sure I regret this, though. Still confused regarding certain things. Am slowly working through them. Dropping pronouns again. Why? Thursday, December 16, 2004 [link] 05:27 p.m. listening to: "End of the Summer" - Dar Williams Does everyone go through this "I don't want to go home because I hate it there" phase in college? Or am I just one of a select few? I've been home for a little over 24 hours and already I want to drink. Or smoke. I can't take it here. It's great when I'm with my friends (all, like, three of them. or maybe four.), but when I'm not with them, I'm bored unto death. I can't drive, I don't have any of my things here, I have nothing with which to occupy my time. Tomorrow I should drag my books out of the garage. I miss my friends. My family's great and all, but they don't Get Me. Not in the way that my friends get me, anyway. It's that whole generational gap thing. I love my family and they're always there for me, but they don't get my interests or my hobbies or anything. And that's fine, you know, I don't expect that of them. But it's just. You know. Lonely. I'll stop being a complete and utter pathetic twit and go find dinner or something now. Wednesday, December 15, 2004 [link] 02:29 a.m. listening to: big horkin' playlist It's 2:30 AM, I'm only half-done cleaning/packing, and it's time for the requisite I Don't Want to Go Home angst. **pauses to contemplate mixing a vodka tonic** I don't know if it says something that what's really compelling me to go home is a promise to my six-year old niece. Because you don't break promises to six-year olds. That's right up there with. . . with. . . I don't know, pissing in front of nuns. It's just Not Done. Not by me, anyway. So that's why I'm going home. Because I promised my niece I would. I don't know why I'm so loathe to return home. I don't know why I even call it "home" anymore. I think it's just habit or something, because I certainly don't associate the place with, well, home. I don't even have a room there. I think I might be sleeping on the couch. Lack of privacy aside, it doesn't have my computer or my anime or my comic books. I have to hide things, like my cigars or my alcohol or my fanfiction. I can count the number of people who are interested in/understand my writing there on one hand and still have enough fingers left over to wipe my ass. Also, I hate the weather, the public transit is shitty, the air is filthy, and the people are pretty damn unsavory. Sweet Jesus, I don't want to go home. |
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