Friday, April 29, 2011

Teddy Bears + Food

My family has this tradition of sorts. We name our teddy bears after food. It's funny, actually; there's Marmalade, Cocoa, Ginger... all of our teddy bears are named after food.

I was writing a short story and named a little brown bear The Horrifying Prince of Doom. ^.^ Which isn't, technically a food.

There's just a lot of great names you can get from food.





Bob gave Dad a geek-bear that I wanted to name Newton, after Sir Isaac Newton and Figg Newtons, I thought it was a good idea. I'm not sure what that bear's name is now.

A friend and I were googling random pictures of people. A picture of my the geek brother showed up that has Bunny the Duck resting on his head. It's a great picture. But my friend didn't understand why the duck was named Bunny. I didn't even try to explain the bears named after food.

My favorite teddy bear is Cocoa. I've practically bitten her ear off because of the number of times I've bitten into her ear to keep from screaming and crying and that stuff. My other favorite stuffed animal is Roco, who's a stuffed raccoon, so not named after a food. Anyways, Roco's second name is Fumara (sp?) because he's both named after a council from a camp, but also my great-grandfather on my dad's mom's side of things. Roco and Cocoa are the best.

I like teddy bears.

I like food.


Thursday, April 21, 2011

Cave Drawings

So I was sketching and I wondered what it would be like to place a modern-ish style of thought into a world based and contrived almost entirely on cave drawings. I've only written three paragraphs, but the character developed like lightening. Her name is Lunet, but her ally/love interest? or something, whoever ends up helping her, will probably call her Imogene; which right now is the title of the idea.

It's just interesting trying to figure out how to tell the story. I'm thinking there will be a group of people, of which Lunet is a part of, and they have access to fire. They use it sparingly and keep the secret of the other group of people, the typical "cavemen," which I haven't figured out yet. I probably won't through in a pet woolly mammoth, even though a mammoth will definitely show up in the story. Somehow. I'll probably give Lunet a strange looking wolf-dog thingy.

I have way to many stories, but I'm enjoying this current idea, so, who knows, maybe it'll be successful. In a couple of days, I'll decide which priority folding (yes, I sort my stories by priority folders) to throw the thing it. My guess is it'll end up in the 1.5 priority... >.> Well... enjoy:


      I live in a world of monsters. I live in a world of brown and black, of spears and arrows. I live in a world of nightmares and daydreams, all wound up in a few simple pictures. History is all around me, because I survive in the tapestry of ancient pictures. My worst fear is a compilation of simple lines; a rough sketch of several humans, spears and the heart pounding feeling of the chase.
My name is Lunet, and this is my nightmare.
       I snapped the sticks against each other. Sparks landed on the spindly twigs, but the fire refused to catch. The cold air blasted against my skin and one spark danced away from my protected hole in the cliff. The spark wafted through the dark air before sizzling out. I pressed my back against comforting sheets of stone. Fire would be unsuccessful in this wind. More than that, fire would be dangerous in this weather.
       I shuddered. The wind numbed my cheeks and cut into my skin. The cold was apart of my life now. A dark silhouette passed in front of the moon. I jammed my fire-sticks in the back of my parka and pressed as far into the cliff face as I could. Maybe whoever it was wouldn't notice me. If there were Prowlers loose around here, I was dead. The silhouette grew larger, coming closer and closer and closer to my position. I drew in a deep breath, knowing that not breathing because I did not know what was coming close could be more deadly than just staying still. My hand inched towards the tiny arrow strapped to my opposite wrist.

Wednesday, April 20, 2011


Where did they go?

Poems used to be such a stable in our culture's literary thing. Everyone knows Tennyson and Wordsworth and that but - outside of English class - how many people actually read poems a lot? I don't. Do you?

My school is putting together a literary magazine and we were reading some of the poetry submissions and it was a little humorous how awful some submissions are. We've even forgotten how to write literature as a country. Well. In general. You know, one of the girls in my homeroom was writing a sonnet and she kept insisting that sonnets were supposed to be twelve lines wrong; and that all of the couples were rhyming. It was... amusing.

So I kept thinking about it. Yes. That's me. I obsess about what happened to stuff that used to be popular. And then Natasha started bugging me about music again.



Music. The twentieth century version of poetry. The twentieth-first century of version of prose. I am not a music person. Which leads me to believe that I would never be a poetry person. Music has become SO important to our culture. It's infectious. It's evil. It's-- I think I'm going to go get earplugs now.

Just an observation.

Monday, April 18, 2011


I just made something in the kitchen. O.o And it was actually edible.

Flee! Hide! The horrors! The horrors!

I used a cup of milk, four eggs, two dabbles of vanilla, eight pieces of bread, some butter, a fork, a spatula and a cast iron frying pan (epicness) and made successful French Toast. I would assume it was successful. Bob ate four pieces and he hardly ever eats that much. Although, he did say I should make pancakes, but no, that's his kitchen thingy.

Me plus kitchen usually ends up with bad stuff happening. Like, really bad stuff. Burning and smoking and turning black and gooing and etc. etc. etc. Although, thankfully, I have never burnt water. Mom has. I haven't. -snicker- I could probably burn salad, if I attempted anything more elaborate than some lettuce and carrots.

Oh, carrots. What a wonderful, hideous vegetable.

Food is a special thing. I like eating it, but I really don't like cooking it. I guess I can could, if I have too. And I make pretty good chips and cheese =P but I just don't like cooking. I don't understand it. The chemicals and flavors of ingredients and how they react with each other. WHy do these spices work and those spices don't? Why can't everything be plain and simple? Siiigh. Cooking annoys me.

Saturday, April 16, 2011

Six Degrees

It's fascinating that in just six degrees of separation, you would know approximately everyone in the world. It works on the principle that you know someone, that someone knows someone who you don't know, that third someone knows someone you don't know, and on and on. However, while chains may stretch on forever, you can find some connection with almost anyone to the sixth the degree.

There is this guy, Kevin Bacon, and he even has a game and a charity organization called SixDegrees or whatever. Supposedly, Bacon has been in so many movies with so many different actors that he knows everyone in the movie making industry by like... three or four degrees. I think that's fascinating.

My tend to use two specific trends when I talk about this with people who simply don't understand. A year or so ago, I was really into the "Star Wars extended universe" books and my favorite books where those written by Timothy Zahn, who created both Mara Jade and Grand Admiral Thrawn, the former who is one of the most epic dark-heroines ever and the latter the very best villain ever.

Anyway, I was talking about the extended universe with a friend of mine and she mentioned how her friend's dad was a roommate with Timothy Zahn in college, and they were still friends. Later, I met the friend she was talking about. So, I know Timothy Zahn to the second degree; as I know someone who knows him. So, by extension, I know George Lucas and all those other people by the third and forth degree. Special me. The other example was I know Buzz Aldrin (I think, it's one of those Apollo 11 guys) to the second degree because I met my grandmother's husband at least once, as a baby, and he knew astronaut.

This theory also sort of plays into how small the world is and how you'll know someone and you'll know someone else and then be surprised that those two people know each other. Or something like that. Or you could end up in an airport in Florida and sit down right next to two people from your church and not even know that it's them until they great you (true story) or have a homeschooling family move to Kansas City and completely lose contact until traveling to Kansas City for a supposedly completely unrelated event to discover that said family is involved with the same program that the leader of the event teachers at (true story).

I have a cat climbing all over me. It's very annoying.

Friday, April 15, 2011

Holy Week + 40 Days

Palm Sunday. Holy Week. Easter. Pentacost.

I don't really like the change in seasons that comes with the shift between Winter and Spring and then as Spring progresses and turns to Summer, but I really do enjoy those three holidays. Oh, by the way, in Chinese, winter is dōngtiān (冬天), spring is chūntiān (春天), summer is xiàtiān (夏天), and fall is qiūtiān (秋天). Hm. Spellchecker doesn't thing dongtian or chuntian is spelled wrong. Weirdness. (Chinese is epicness)

Anyway, I really love Palm Sunday because I think the whole thing about how Jesus Christ is so amazing and so wonderful that if he weren't going to receive praise from the humans, the rocks would worship him. I have two pet rocks (have being a loose term, as all they do is sit on my shelf) named Hansel and Gretel and believe me, the two of them never do anything. It's hard to imagine something so important that stones would raise their voices and call out. That is such an amazing message.

And then Gethsemane is the most heartbreaking scene in the entire Bible. It just is. It's got two kinds of betrayal, insurmountable grief, determination, a fight scene, bribery... I know that Mr. S probably used some great example of the Black Moment in his curriculum, but to me, the Garden of Gethsemane is the ultimate Black Moment in any story. (For you non-OYAN-educated people: the black moment is the beginning of the third act, and where things are so awful there's no way the hero can ever climb out of it.)

I really don't like how it's called Good Friday. I've never understood why. Really, I think they should switch Good Friday with Black Friday and then I'd be just find, because I could care less about Black Friday. The gospel is the ultimate story. The Bible is the ultimate story. It's just the gospel is the crowning jewel in that story and Good Friday is like the best indirect Showdown ever. And, Jesus has some of the most dramatic lines in recorded history! And the teardrop is just... AH!

Am I getting my point across? Can you tell that I really love this story?

A weekend after the tears comes Easter. And Easter is the best celebration, ever. "Christ the Lord is risen today! Alleluia." Love that song. Easter is bright and cheerful and colorful and the one day out of the year that I consistently enjoy that bright, colorful theme. The rest of the year, I'm more of a dark person.
That concludes what most people few as Holy Week; and I accepted that a long time ago, but I think it's a capital crime that more people don't celebrate Pentacost. This celebration is dedicated entirely to the aspect of the Trinity that I think gets the most lost in the general scheme of things. There's reds and whites and fire and I've memorized Paul's speech given on that day. Just think about it! Approximately 3000 people were saved because the Holy Spirit gave the disciples the ability to speak in other languages. I certainly believe that's something to celebrate!

The added bonus, of Holy Week, is that Doctor Who airs on Saturday. I'm excited. NINE DAYS. Although, if I do end up out of town and not able to watch it... well... I'll find it. Somewhere. On Easter evening or Monday...

Thursday, April 14, 2011


Save me; neon is coming.

A couple of days ago, people - mostly girls - started wearing white and pastels and bright colors. And I probably should have expected that, as spring is stubbornly arriving. You know, as much as I love palm Sunday, Easter and Pentacost, I really dislike spring.

So. I just got used to the girls wearing the warm, springish kind of colors and then the boys come out and start wearing NEONS! I just can't take it! >.< Yellows and greens and oranges and bright, bright, bright white! It was a sea of neon shirts today, contrasted only by the black shirts of people in sports uniforms. I said I dislike spring; I dislike neons about ten times more.

Neon. Neon. Neon.

I think the closest Doctor Who got to neon was Seven's (?) white costume. Four's scarf is certainly famous and memorable, but the Doctor himself has rarely ever been so brightly colored. As for the companions... well... Rose and Donna especially liked bright colors. And Romana II. And IT'S ONLY NINE DAYS AWAY! -squeals-

I've only got one more day of school and then I can just work on writing and sit around and wait because the DOCTOR is coming to town! IEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIEIE!

And I just saw a short clip from one of the episodes. And it had River in it. IEIEIEIEIEIEI!

I need sugar.

G'morning. (even if it's night)

I'm gonna go find Luna Lovegood and have a weirdness conference now.

Monday, April 11, 2011


Two months ago, I was reading intros and how-tos and advice snippets about how to write a good blog. One of them said "moderate yourself, don't expect to much. Set a posting standard, like once a week." Of course, I went "BAH!" And my posting standard became once a day.

So that puts me where...? Seven days behind in April? That's pretty pathetic. So-o-o-o. I'm going to celebrate April and Allergy Season by, well, I'm not sure. April and Allergy Season just sounds nice together.

Spiderweb Raindrops has been driving me insane lately. Mostly because I've been in the mood to write it while at school and since it's one of my major projects, it's all on the computer with no notebooks. Stupid major projects. Anyway, I've even half-written the epilogue out, even if I'm not even finished with the first chapter and only part way done with the second.

I need to find some way of wrapping up the first chapter. It's getting way to long, and if I want to keep the days at equal length, I'm going to have to find enough material to fill in all the days. O.O You're not going to want to be around me when I hit the Middle Cycle. Because I hate the Middle Cycle. I outline and I plan and I outline and I plan and the Middle Cycle still completely falls apart. Stupid Middle Cycle.

Anyway, the epilogue has actually helped me finalize which direction I'm going to take the story. It's really a friendship story, between Ora and Carmen; a friendship story that runs almost parallel to the story between Erik and Asheme, who are, to some degree, viewed as the villains of the story.

I'm really loving the story, just because it's so different from anything I've tried to write before, and it doesn't feel like a Star Wars rip-off. What worries me about that is that I don't know what it's similar too, and if I don't know what something is similar too, it's more likely I'm subconsciously writing something very similar to a story that I've read or heard. There are some parallels to the Enderverse, by Orson S. Card, but I'm intentionally focuses on people with very different personalities than Ender, Bean, Valentine, Peter and whats-his-name-Bean's-brother... Nikolai?

Hm... there are a lot of similarities. Card is a genius in his storytelling - in his children's books - but I think Ray Bradbury is usurping him as the style I want to follow, at least in general.

There's an update on me. I'm going to go write.

I feel like a unicorn like now.

Friday, April 8, 2011

Stay Alive

Just a note, 'k? The cake is a lie. The cake is a lie. The cake is a lie. The cake in the lie.

Here follows the lyrics for one of the best songs in the world:

This was a triumph.
I'm making a note here: HUGE SUCCESS.
It's hard to overstate my satisfaction.
Aperture Science
We do what we must
because we can.
For the good of all of us.
Except the ones who are dead.
But there's no sense crying over every mistake.
You just keep on trying till you run out of cake.
And the Science gets done.
And you make a neat gun.
For the people who are still alive.
I'm not even angry.
I'm being so sincere right now.
Even though you broke my heart
And killed me.
And tore me to pieces.
And threw every piece into a fire.
As they burned it hurt because I was so happy for you!
Now these points of data make a beautiful line.
And we're out of beta.
We're releasing on time.
So I'm GLaD. I got burned.
Think of all the things we learned
for the people who are still alive.
Go ahead and leave me.
I think I prefer to stay inside.
Maybe you'll find someone else to help you.
Maybe Black Mesa
Anyway, this cake is great.
It's so delicious and moist.
Look at me still talking
when there's Science to do.
When I look out there, it makes me GLaD I'm not you.
I've experiments to run.
There is research to be done.
On the people who are still alive.
And believe me I am still alive.
I'm doing Science and I'm still alive.
I feel FANTASTIC and I'm still alive.
While you're dying I'll be still alive.
And when you're dead I will be still alive.

It comes from the video game, Portal, which is this awesome little transdimensional game that's got a great story line and everything. And the cake is a lie. And, well, it's right up there will towels and 42 and pi in base 8 as per things geeks should know.

Stay alive. Because I'd miss you if you died.

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

10 Billion Headdesks With a Side of Fries

Formal: In euro's, please.

Author's Note: This is also posted on "Expressions of the Writing Components: Arguments of a Distinctly Wordish Flavor." (if you want to find that, just google it and if that doesn't work, contact me) Frankly, this is expresses my mood rather well.

Creative: -sits in the corner, sulking-

Formal: -looks around the room- -straightens his tie- Hello, everyone. My name is Formal E. Writing and I will be your guide for this evening. Currently, one of the authors of this brilliant if slightly uncouth blog is sitting behind a keyboard, letting me vent her frustrations. I can only assume that the other writer is trapped behind the wonderful mires of editing that Creative was so happy to provide.

Creative: -sticks out her tongue-

Formal: Behave, sister. We have guests. There are many differences between my sister and I, as I am sure any of you experienced writers have picked up on. While Creative has many children, such as Short Story, Novel, Screenplay, and all my other -cough-annoying-cough- nieces and nephews, my children are the refined Research, Thematic, Persuasive, Editorial, and a few others.

Thematic: Hi Dad! Hi Auntie!

Creative: -brightens slightly- Hi 'Ematic.

Formal: Thematic, son, I'm busy, right now.

Thematic: -joins Creative in the corner- -sulks-

Research: -watching the scene, jotting down notes on a piece of yellow paper-

Formal: Formal writing is a joy to behold when done properly. A scientific paper that brims full of words that only us geniuses can understand, or maybe even a persuasive article that changes the course of history. Those. Those wonderful moments are what makes writing so important!

Creative: -huffs-

Formal: At present, Research and I are helping our current authoress with a paper about the economic crisis in the European Union. It is a fascinating subject, really. As is the discussion that her English class had yesterday on the connection between fast food restaurants and obesity.

Creative: >.<

Formal: -clears his throat- I would like to say that formal writing is much more beneficial than creative writing, a thousand pardons to my dear sister. But formal writing is just so much more important. And I've brought my sons Research and Persuasive to help prove my point. Thematic, stay in the corner, we don't need you.

Thematic: -heaves a dramatic sigh-

Persuasive: -glides into the center of the room and flashes a bright smile- Hi all! I'm here to convince you that my way is the best way, because I'm just the best person to ever walk the earth.

Formal: -flashes Persuasive a dotting smile-

Research: -trips forward to stand next to Persuasive- R...r...right. So, formal writing is better than creative writing. I don't know, Dad, this is kind of an opinion peace, maybe I should--

Persuasive: Have no fear, little brother! You shall benefit my cause to make everyone see the world my way. For I am the chosen from above! You must all bow down and worship me.

Thematic: -grumbles-

Creative: -eye roll- I'm pretty sure the last person who said that got a shoe thrown at them.

Persuasive: Oh, my dear Aunt Creative! I never hear from you! You don't write! You don't call! I was beginning to think you had forgotten me! -fake cries-

Creative: -aside to Thematic- Pity. I almost had forgotten him.

Thematic: -snickers-

Formal: If you'd please, my children. We have a schedule to keep.

Persuasive: Yes. Sorry father. -flashes another grin- See things my way! Because I am the right way! I can convince you all to agree with me because I am a son of Formal and Formal is loads better than Creative.

Research: To support the opinion that formal writing is better than creative writing, well--

Persuasive: Be quiet, Research, let me speak! I'm the Persuasive one.

Formal: -dotting grin-

Creative: -exams her nails- What do you think, Thematic? Should I pull the plug on this oh so fascinating deliberation yet?

Thematic: -bounces- -nods-

Creative: -whistles-

A Giant Horde of Every Destructive Beast Known to Human Literature: -stampede Formal and Persuasive-

Persuasive: -dies-

Formal: ahhh--! -dies-

Creative: I rule. -walks away-

Authoress: I HATE FORMAL WRITING! Although, I have no idea why Persuasive died and Research didn't, seeing as I'm pouring my brains out over a research paper and not a persuasive paper...

Monday, April 4, 2011

Light on the Wall

"If I take a lamp and shine it toward the wall, a bright spot will appear on the wall. The lamp is our search for truth... for understanding. Too often, we assume that the light on the wall is God, but the light is not the goal of the search, it is the result of the search. The more intense the search, the brighter the light on the wall. The brighter the light on the wall, the greater the sense of revelation upon seeing it.

"Similarly, someone who does not search - who does not bring a lantern - sees nothing. What we perceive as God is the by-product of our search for God. It may simply be an appreciation of the light... pure and unblemished... not understanding that it comes from us. Sometimes we stand in front of the light and assume that we are the center of the universe - God looks astonishingly like we do - or we turn to look at our shadow and assume that all is darkness.

"If we allow ourselves to get in the way, we defeat the purpose, which is to use the light of our search to illuminate the wall in all its beauty and in all its flaws; and in so doing, better understand the world around us." ~ Citizen G'Kar, Babylon 5

Sometimes, I feel like there's a dozen different candles out there, all vying for the attention of the us people, stuck up on the wall. It becomes really difficult to focus on the one lantern, the one truth, that is our Father in heaven. Especially at school, I'm not sure I understand what seemed so crystal clear just two years ago.

Around me is a kaleidoscope of believes and viewpoints; many of them uninformed and driven by false facts, but many as well grounded as my own opinions. There are some people in my school who I can't out-logic or out-think or out-talk and those are the people who get me in trouble. When you hear someone say, "there is no god," what proof can you give them that they haven't already rejected? When someone says that miracles can't happen, how do you give them hope?

I don't know.

I don't like not being able to know. I feel like I'm standing on the wall and not searching for anything because I don't know what to search for. What is God supposed to be? I know the Sunday school answers. I used to know what it meant for me. Right now, I'm not so sure anymore. I'm trying. I'm searching for that thing that I know is the way, the truth, and the life, but sometimes I feel like my indoctrinated knowledge gets in the way.

And then there are the days when I let myself think, "what if it's wrong?" Is that wrong? Is it so bad to question my foundations? I don't know. It's something I'm fighting with. It's something I hope I'll overcome, eventually. In many ways, I think that's half of a reason for why I needed up at school. I needed to learn that the world is bigger than my house, my backyard, my church. There's so many people beyond my social network and so many of them are suffering. Why then do I get so focused on my suffering?


See, this is what happens when I don't feel well. I get so annoying philosophical and questioning.

Long live the turtles!

Sunday, April 3, 2011

April Showers Bring...

Well, my favorite answer to that questions is Pilgrims, but, heh, I've had a whole weekend of thinking laterally. Well, no so much laterally as off-the-wall kind of strangeness. Well, mostly. Well, will you look at that? I've started every single sentence in this paragraph with Well; except now... I haven't. What a strange world we live in.

Anyway, I'm beginning to think that my dad needs to go into political cartooning. Or math cartooning. Or geekiness cartooning. He has some of the best sayings ever. And I know he's reading this, so I'm going to switch topics to something else now, seeing as one can only rave about such sayings for so long. We-ell, at least without the fear of loosing a non-geeky audience.

Well, most of my friends are geeks, which - in my opinion - is excellent. Some people, I think, are geeks by choice. They purposefully find some interest or hobby that's incredibly strange or abnormal and then revel in that awesomeness. Others are just born into it.

Like my older brother, who shall be known for the purpose of this blog as Archimedes-Ptolemy-Hui-Chongzhi-Maimonides-Lambert-Niven APHCMLN for short. APHCMLN was simply born a geek. There's just no way someone would consider that someone at the second grade reading level might need an algebra textbook. =P

I feel like a snicker-giggle-snort right about now. But I don't know about what. Maybe I should come up with names for my other two older brothers. I wouldn't want them to feel like Bob and APHCMLN are more special then they are. Maybe I should talk about April...

I don't really like April. It's always been my second least favorite month with March being the worst. I don't like the change of seasons. I don't like how it wavers back and forth and back and forth and it CAN'T MAKE UP IT'S MIND! In April I don't like how everyone's running around outside and talking about how wonderful the weather is and on and on and on and on.

Sure, the first flowers come out and everything is beginning to grow and that's nice from a poetic person, but I'm not a very fun and dandy poetic person.

Funny story. Well, maybe not funny, but at least slightly interesting, on the OYAN forum, the person who probably influenced my writing the most was BlackDragon, and it was one little snippet that she placed online, I believe because she was having problems with it or whatever. I don't remember very well. Anyway, the snippet depicted a little girl who hides her dad's drugs and alcohol away. This little girl is very protective and loving of her little cat. Well, her dad goes looking for the drugs and the alcohol until he makes the little girl tell her where they are and she finally caves and tells him. As a reward, he snaps the kitten's neck and tosses the dead body at the girl.

<.< Note to my parents: I am sane. Do not worry that much.

I just found it so dramatic and lovely and captivating and frankly, beside for (yes, Sandy, I know) Nai's Forest of Lies, I don't really remember anything on the forum that I read for someone I wasn't a good friend with at the time that I read it. Okay, except for maybe Mig's story about the veteran who came home and found everything gone, but Mig and I were friends... Hm. That's actually curious. What else did I even read?

^-^ Anyway, I once got in an argument with someone as to whether or not Morbidity was a word. Needless to say, I won.

So, April showers bring mayflowers, pilgrams and a whole host of randomness when they let me out on my own.

Maybe I should have a character named April Shower. She would get more annoyed than, well, a lot of characters. I'm going to my light bulb room now. See ya! Signing off! Over and out! Rodger! So Long! Bye! Goodbye! Farewell! Thanks for all the fish!