tiredraven

Last ditch resort

2008-12-12T06:00:27Z

I don't know when it all stopped making sense. It was somewhere between Gus and last week, and now I don't know what I'm doing at all. I don't think it's missing people that's making me go crazy, I think it's just me - me failing - and not having an excuse scares me. It could be because of my dad, I tell myself, or because I just never handled Gus or because I miss Aidan or because I'm just really fucking tired. Yeah. It could be any of those. But it doesn't feel like any of those. It feels like I lost control. Did I ever HAVE control? Because the last two years have been one long emotional storm, and I never get a complete grip on what I'm feeling before something else fucking happens, and I'm tired of it.

The thing I need least is a season where I'm supposed to be happy; but what I need most is a vacation. I guess I'll just let them cancel each other out.

Travels in Oregon

2008-07-25T04:33:47Z

I've never made so many hick jokes in my life. I mean, I love Oregon. I do. I adore where I live. I think it's beautiful and hippie-ish and just... cute and funky and outdoors. But driving down towards California is like, "Ooh, look. A town with nothing in it but rednecks. Wait... don't get out of the car... it's past 5:30 PM, Asians aren't allowed to be outside without an escort. They won't arrest you, but you might get beat up." xDDDDDDDD

So yes. Past Portland you drive through manymany hicktowns that are actually rather scary if you're not white *points to self and dances*. Exception is Eugene [home of the University of Oregon and more hippies than you could possibly count. I got approached three times in an hour to become a member of the peace party]... and Ashland, but that's just because Ashland is a little artsy community because of the Shakespeare festival.

That's why we were taking this road trip, though it was rather last minute. [Actually, extremely last minute. But it's really a completely different story]. When we went to see Stratford last summer in England upon my insistence because I love Shakespeare, we heard about the Ashland Shakespeare Festival and how great it was. And we were like O__o that's in our state and we've never been there... TO THE INTERNET! And we got tickets to A Midsummer Night's Dream.

It. Was. AMAZING. X___X I wasn't expecting it to be a modern version [and actually the "modernizing" thing was done rather...strangely. 60's gear on the one hand [[the actors in Theseus and Hippolyta's wedding play were a roving gang of hippies]], but punk-goth fairies on the other.], but it was still fantastic. Bottom and crew were fantastic, as were the fairies. The show totally belonged to Puck - he was... LSKDJF:LSKEJRNV. To understand his brilliance, start with his costume. Head: weird little off-center lime green and black top hat. Goth makeup. Torso: Mesh. Yes. Just mesh. Bottom half: fishnet stockings, lime green tutu, 6-inch knee-length lace-up black boots. Now, add dancing and singing and incredible gayness. Mix with good lines and other, equally amazingly queer fairies. Let set up, allowing free-movement around stage at all times. Let simmer for 2 1/2 hours.

You have a winner.

Anyways, we went on a college tour, basically. U of O and Willamette and Southern Oregon University. They're all... surprisingly pretty. But I really don't want to go to school in Oregon... >_> <_< I mean, I wouldn't object to going to U of O and might end up there just because the number of kids from schools in my area that go there is ridiculous. But if I had a choice, I would at least get out of the state. XD

:D

2008-07-08T01:48:54Z

Yay 16th birthdays complete with the inability to drive! :D

Whaaaaat?

2008-07-02T06:08:39Z

I'm... updating? O___o

I dunno. It's summer. I've got time and I don't want to go to sleep because I had a night terror last night DX.

I had a meltdown on my DevArt journal. >_<;; Like a big "I HATE THE WORLD I HATEHATEHATEHATEHATE IT" sort of meltdown. Maybe it was warranted, I don't know. Hospitals make me a little emotionally unstable, so for now that's what I'll blame. Hospitals scare me like crazy, and they remind me of Gus and Daddy and Uncle Ken and Uncle Gary... especially Gus, and especially the Children's Wing, which is the nicest branch of the hospital and the one with the coffee. But hospitals just generally suck. The whole apprehension is made worse because everyone I've visited in the hospital this year has died besides one (grand total? 6/7), and Nana isn't going to be any exception. She's basically going to die any minute. Just, hopefully it's after she's out of the hospital and settled in my aunt's house. The hospital is such a horrible place to die, and she misses her cat and... you know, it's just not worth it to put her through so much pain when she's so old and so close to death.

I'm just tired of dealing with things, I guess. I want everyone to stay alive this summer besides Nana, do you hear me, everyoneIknow? No more surprise collapses or painful deteriorations or car crashes or any of that nonsense, kay? And while I'm at it, all the future parents in my mom's class, no abusing your children. It makes me think the entire human race is a pointless piece of shit.

Mostly, I just miss feeling like I have control of things.

I've been meaning to update...

2007-10-28T23:59:18Z

I'm tired, I've got more homework than I know what to do with, I miss my camp, and I'm having a really good year. ^^ Hah, and with that opening you thought this was going to be a rant.

I got a letter from one of the kids from ODS the other day--my favorite girl in my cabin. I love her. Haley is so awesome it's ridiculous. *adores* On a side note, I wish I could stalk Christian, but I can't. It's too bad, because he might have been my favorite kid in the entire bloody camp. HE WAS SO CUTE. :D He and Ryan were like the most adorable 6th grade boys everrrrr. :D:D:D

My forum is starting to perk up, which is nice, because I missed it.

Gemma from Zor'z is back! *GLOMPS HER*

BEEBS WILL GET AN AIM/ANSWER HIS PMS/CHECK HIS EMAIL IF ITS THE LAST THING I DO!!!! *MAIMS*

Heehee. <3

I MISS MY CHICA. *DIES OF WITHDRAWAL*

I saw my baby! Tanner. He doesn't know he's my baby because he thinks he's a big kid and that he's outgrown me. BUT HE'S WRONG! GRRRR. TANNER IS MY BABY FOREEEVVVVVEEEERRRRRR. That must mortify him, that big 5th grader! *mists up*

And... I BEAT HIM AT AIR HOCKEY! WOOOOOOT! It was the accomplishment of my week. It made me tré happy.

¿Y vosotros? ¿Comó estaís?

BOOKS! <33333333333

2007-09-23T21:38:25Z

Ahhhh, I'm on such a hard-literature binge it's sort of ridiculous, but I have to run around here and proclaim my undying love for a few books for a minute because JOY OF ALL JOYS, they are so amazingly fantabulous they make my heart sing with glee! *feasts upon them*

Angela's Ashes is by far one of the best memoirs I've ever read in my entire life. It's sweet and poignant and every blessed time I finish a chapter I'm sobbing and aching for Frank McCourt, because holy shit did his life suck. 0.o The memoir is remarkable, because he tells it all in present tense, and he sounds so very child-like that you can almost hear the four-year-old with a New York accent talking to you in the back of your mind. ('I wonder why Dad is telling Oliver a Cuchulain story. He knows the Cuchulain stories are mine, but when I look at Oliver I don't mind. His cheeks are bright red, he's staring into the dead fire, and you can see he has no interest in Cuchulain.' - p. 68) And he paints the other characters so well--desperate, broken Mother and drunken, tired Father and the perfect little brother and the Irish family. *sobs and clings to the book* I am wonderfully happy that this is on my reading list for school, and I'm really glad I decided to read it because it's way different from Teacher Man, the memoir he wrote about teaching English, essentially, in the New York ghetto, that I read this summer, but it's still fantabulous and amazing and I LOVE IT SO VERY MUCH. <3

*cringes at all those run-on sentences*

I need to have a moment of John Steinbeck appreciation, because I just re-read East of Eden, and it really says something that I can read that book three times in the course of a year and still be amazed and enthralled by how good a writer he is. He's the best character author I've ever read, plain and simple. And while I love his other books, (Travels With Charlie, The Grapes of Wrath, and Of Mice and Men tend to be my other favorites by Mr. Steinbeck), East of Eden, for me, is simply the ultimate. His characters! I mean, it's a huge honkin' book, but Holy God, it rocks so unbelievably hard. Every time you start to get sort of tired of a character, he leaps to another one, and you sit there completely baffled for a few chapters and then he ties them all together and shows you everything and oh my god, it's absolutely amazing. *_* Lurrrrvvvveeeee. <3333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333 In fact, I can't even say how good it is. This paragraph sums up my complete and total love and adoration for it:

'And this I believe: that the free, exploring mind of the individual human is the most valuable thing in the world. And this I would fight for: the freedom of the mind to take any direction it wishes, undirected. And this I must fight against: any idea, religion, or government which limits or destroys the individual. This is what I am and what I am about. I can understand why a system built on a pattern must try to destroy the free mind, for that is one thing which can by inspection destroy such a system. Surely I can understand this, and I hate it and I will fight against it to preserve the one thing that separates us from uncreative beasts. If the glory can be killed, we are all lost.' (p. 131)

... And then it talks about Adam and Cathy, who are, I believe, the best characters in the entire book. <3

Ayn Rand. Do I need to say anything more? Ayn Rand amazes me, plain and simple. I want to squish her with thought-provoking, futuristic love. *beams and hugs her books*

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde! WOW. Why did I wait so long to read that?! It's phenomenal. *hugs it* It's like... like... that book reminds me of Poe, and if you know me at all, you know how completely and utterly obsessed with Poe I am.

The Things They Carried. I have to say, I'm guilty of forgetting about this book sometimes when I talk about collections of personal short stories that I love, because I'm usually inclined to go on and on about David Sedaris and quote David Sedaris and talk about how wonderful it is to listen to him talk and then eventually move on to how I need his new book ASAP, or perhaps the latest Ray Bradbury short I read, because I bought his huge anthology of doom with my own money and only allow myself five a month. ^^ But I really do adore this book. David Sedaris stands out to me more, I think, because he's just hilarious. His books are really, endlessly enjoyable and laugh-out-loud funny and occasionally just completely haunting ("A Plague of Tics" from Naked just makes you shiver with it's unabashed honesty, as does "Ashes" from the same collection. Sadly, I did not need to look up the names for either short story... I just know them by heart... pathetic much? Yes? Well, I'm obsessed, so suck it.), but Tim O'Brien is just... wow. A fantastic writer. "The Man I Killed" is haunting and emotional and moving, and it's all about the guilt and horror and shock and sorrow O'Brien feels after killing someone in the war, not-in-combat. And yet he never once says how he's feeling. He describes the man and Kiowa talks to him, and you know exactly what he's feeling. It's deep and thoughtful and terribly sad, but just amazing. You totally get a feel for what he means, even though most of us have no idea what it's like to look down at the person you killed. There's also a wonderful story called "Speaking of Courage", and that didn't hit as hard as the "Notes" afterwards. ("There was no suicide note, no message of any kind. 'Norman was a quiet boy,' his mother wrote, 'and I don't suppose he wanted to bother anybody.'" ((p.160))) BLLAAAHHHH, I love this book. ^.^

Ehehehe... this is long, so I'm going to stop. But YES, THOSE BOOKS ARE MY GODS. <3333333333333333333333333

*goes off to re-read The Things They Carried*

BLAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH

2007-09-21T01:41:30Z

Blah definitely required that many A's and H's, BTW.

Yes, so, this is just a quick little update so I can spontaneously explode and declare my undying hatred of my religion teacher.

DIE, BASTARD, DIE!

COME OUT OF THE FREAKING CLOSET! LEARN HOW TO MEDITATE! HOW DO YOU TALK TO A MOUSE IN HAWAII?! AAHHHHH, YOU'RE TEACHING ABORIGINE RELIGION AND I'M BORED! I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW THAT WAS POSSIBLE! *FLAILS*

I miss my crazy Republican campus minister religion teacher! <3

...

AND WTF IS UP WITH THAT?! I MISS RANDY?!?! Blahhhhhh.

Ok, well, here's why. I figure that my having to take religion has actually been a good thing, because it helped me a lot last year when Grandpa died and Gus was in the hospital and etc. etc. etc. ^.^ Christology, or the way Randy taught Christology, was a very thought-provoking class. We had a lot of great discussions, and he made us ask ourselves hard questions. What DO you believe about God? Jesus? Humanity? Do you believe that Humanity is ultimately good or evil or something in between? Do you fall into a religious category, or are you still exploring your beliefs to be able to answer that question? Why do you believe what you believe? How does it impact your world view? How can you apply your beliefs about God and Humanity and apply them to how you live your every day life? And my beliefs changed so much in that class, and above I think all of my other teachers last year, Randy got me. I miss how it made me question things and think about things in a different light. I don't know if I would have been able to take a deep breath and just think to myself, you know what? It's ok. You just have to breathe and trust that there's something in this world that's making sure you're not taking on too much without that class. -.-

Anyway, that's not as short as I thought it would be, but yes. I miss Randy and his class and knowing where I stand spiritually. I need a good meditation, which would be easier if I wasn't about ready to fall asleep whenever I had a spare moment. ^^

I love my school, I just forget sometimes

2007-09-09T04:14:49Z

*Is killing herself due to the religion homework she has*

GAAAHHHHH. I HATE RELIGION HOMEWORK. I HATE IT DEAD! *dies*

OF COURSE, with all this negativity surrounding the homework at my crazy ass school of doom, I often forget that it was indeed my CHOICE to stay here. So, I was reminded today why I don't want to transfer.

It. Is. Made. Of. Win.

My school is AWESOME and I LOVE it. It's obviously the coolest high school of all time, and I WILL contest this with anyone who cares doubt my sincerity. We've got too much homework, nuns, and a bunch of crazy as fuck teachers. And bitchy and annoying girls. And no boys. And we STILL kick ass. Our mascot is a dancing blue music note, and we beat you!

Pwnsome.

And why do we beat you? Simple. We have beginning of the year assemblies. We embrace our class colors. We laugh loudly at the Frosh, because they get stuck with yellow. We chant our class songs. Loudly. We scream them, more accurately, at the top of our lungs in the Auditorium. No one says this out loud, but half of the reason for this is to scare the Frosh shitless. We actually do call our Freshman 'frosh', to their faces, and run down Frosh Hall yelling.

But do you want to know why I really love my school?

It's because at our beginning of the year assembly, our ASB (Associated Student Body) officers design something they think will be funny. This year?

A Harry Potter Spoof.

Winsome.

Harry Potter, first off, was Latino. The girl who played Hermione compared herself to Hermione in her ASB election speech (and she won, woot). Ron just looked like a girl wearing pants... but that's ok, because Blondie slicked back her hair and played Draco. I. Love. SMAAAAAAAARRRGGGHHHHHH! <3 I also love how we say SMAAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHHH. It's... it's...

IT'S SO ME! *_*

So then they got the crazy religion teacher who everyone thinks is gay and is a practicing 'Buddhatholic' to play Voldemort. ("GOOD MORNING, LADY BLUES!" "..." "I said, GOOD MORNING, LADY BLUES!" "... Good morning, Mr. H" "SO, today we're going to read my daughter's world religion textbook. It's a children's book called The Coconut Monk, and it's just the cutest story ever with the best moral, and then we're going to journal about it! Now, come on, let's do our Tai-Chi warm ups!") And then they broke all of the teachers up into teams and they had a dance-off on stage! AAHHHH, I LOVE MY SCHOOL! *tackles is* AND AND AND AND AND AND AND--SIS LIN! SIS LIN AND THE LATIN/RELIGION TEACHER WHO ARE BOTH OLD LIPSYNCED TO HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL. <3333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333 While the rest of the teachers danced back up, and and and and and the History department got a standing ovation because everyone loves the head of the History section. And we cheered so loud for so long for the PE/Health teachers that they gave up on their little 'my subject is better than YOUR subject, bitches!' spiel and just walked off to the side. YES, we crazy as hell Lady Blues appreciate our not-heavy work classes. A lot. Gym=no homework. Health=sleep in class and open one eye to do your projects and study for your final.

AHHHHH, AND I LOVE THE HEAD OF THE MATH DEPARTMENT! <3 She's pwnsome and she's SO CUTE! ^____________^ As Julia put it, being mean to her is like kicking a puppy. So when people booed her I glared and yelled. You don't boo at a puppy. Meanies.

Ok. Right. When I start bitching about my school, remind me that I do, in fact, adore it above all reason and logic, because it's made of winsauce.

~~Plus let's be honest I hate most everyone who goes to my local Public High school.~~ xDDDD

Last Entry of the summer...

2007-09-05T03:23:28Z

Ok, last entry of the summer of doom, love, and England.

...

And Chica... XD

I'm not ready to go back... but oh well. >> I've realized that A: I'm going to hate Sarah by the end of the year and B: I have like half of my classes with Gemma. The other half with aforementioned Sarah. And I was of the opinion that I was alone in my Creative Writing class, but it turns out Claire, who has a lj that I've never bothered friending, is in it with me. Which is nice, I suppose. But I'll rather miss getting to zone out in class and not talk to anyone, lol. Ah, the sweet times of being one of two frosh in my math class... how I hated Sophomores by the end of it. Granted, that was a bad class of Sophomores, 'cause Julia is like the coolest person ever, but still. It was a rather epic failure.

Right, so Sarah and I share a locker... and we have math, Chemistry, English, and world history together. And I think religion second semester, at least. xDDDDD And to think, when we first got our schedules, we only had math together. Good thing she chickened out of Honors Chem and switched. Or maybe it's a bad thing, because we're doing the high school equivalent of living and working together.

Ok, I'm going to go print out pictures for my and Sarah's locker and watch Stolen Summer, the best movie ever. If you can find it, watch it. Please. I live for that movie.

And Sarah, I forgot Totoro at your house. Again.

Chica, if this doesn't work for some reason, I'm smiting your computer.

2007-08-29T23:05:04Z

OK. THIS IS FOR CHICA. NO ONE ELSE WILL UNDERSTAND WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON, AND I DON'T CARE. IT IS FOR CHICA. CHIIIIICA. YOU WILL NOT GET IT. YOU NEED NOT READ IT.

OK, Chica. If this doesn't work for some stupid beyond all-fuck reason, I don't know where the hell I'm going to put it so you can read this. -.- I hate your computer. I hate it de--well, no, not dead, because then I'd never be able to talk to you... but you get the idea.

RIGHT. So here we go.

CHICA. READ THIS PART FIRST. IT’S A DECLARATION OF MY UNDYING LOVE.

Woo! I actually wrote more drabbles for you last night, and then… ZOHMYGOSH CHICA, I ATTEMPTED SOME SMUT. HET SMUT. FROM YOUR CHICA. O_O But then I hated it and deleted it. But I attempted it! *squees* Right… and… that’s it, I think.

Vrier just smirks when he talks about her. “I know, Isi,” he says, smiling and nudging his best friends’ shoulder. “You tell me how wonderful she is all the time.”

“But she is, Vrier, isn’t she?” Isidore asks, eyes wide and full of adoration. “Amelia is beautiful and perfect, and I don’t deserve her. Whenever I’m around her, nothing else matters. It’s just like—“

“She was made for your arms,” Vrier finishes.

“Sorry,” Isidore says sheepishly, sticking his hands in his pockets. His friend laughs.

“No. It’s the same thing I think about Ion. I think it’s called love.”

The Slytherin isn’t exactly sure when he realized he wasn’t just protective of her, or enamored with her, or just slightly obsessed with her. He isn’t sure when he recognized his need for her to be near him all the time as something more than teenage hormones. He isn’t sure when he first ran his hands through her hair thinking he would die if anyone else could ever do this with her. He isn’t sure when, exactly, he fell in love with the quiet girl. Really, Isidore is only sure of one thing: he’s in love with her now, and he’ll be damned if that ever changes.

Isidore doesn’t realize, at first, that he’s never told Amelia that he loves her. He watches her some days during class, watches the way she plays with the feathers on the quill, the way she tries to act sneaky when she checks the clock she keeps in her bag, the way she wraps her foot around the leg of the desk… And one day after class, she walks up to him and takes his hand. “I saw you watching,” she says with a small smile. He wants to say it’s because he loves watching her, because he loves everything about her, but the words catch in his throat.

“Sorry for staring.”

Sometimes, Isidore stops and asks himself why he loves her. Sometimes he thinks it can’t be normal to fall in love with someone so quickly and so hard at the age of fifteen and never look back. Whenever he asks himself why he loves her, though, he comes up with the same answer: he loves her because of the way she smiles at him; because of the way she thinks there’s nothing wrong with him. He loves her because she knows all his flaws and she loves every one of them. He loves her because it doesn’t make sense not to.

Amelia doubts herself too much, Isidore decides one day. She looks at him sometimes, biting her bottom lip, as he talks with Rose. She sticks her hands in her pockets and does her homework furiously. It takes him a long time, but he finally realizes what it is. She’s jealous.

He doesn’t understand why at first. Isidore sits there, staring blankly at the plate in front of him, as Rose babbles on. She doesn’t even notice he’s left the conversation. And then he remembers, and he can hardly even believe he forgot.

Isidore has known it for so long, but he’s never told Amelia.

“Melia?” he asks. Her arms are wrapped around his waist, her lips curled into a familiar content smile. The Hufflepuff looks up, her eyes filled with the same amount of adoration as they always are. And just like always, Isidore can practically feel his heart stop beating for a few seconds.

“Yeah, Isi?” she asks, nuzzling her face into his shirt. Isidore runs his hands over her back, looking down at her. He loves her so much. It’s been so long since he knew, and every time he gets close to saying it, his mouth clamps shut. But not today.

“I love you, Amelia.”

He asks himself why she feels so right with him, no matter what they’re doing. It feels right to be sitting next to her during class, it feels right to hold her hand underneath the table during dinner, it feels right to twist his arm around her waist in the hall, it feels right to press his body against hers in the darkness of their dorms. It feels just as right to press kisses to her forehead as it does to her naked chest. It doesn’t matter why she’s with him, it doesn’t even matter how she’s with him. All the matters is that she is.

Today he turns 25, and today he starts thinking about what to get her for their anniversary. Over the years, they’ve accumulated many anniversaries. First kiss, first date, first day as a couple, first time, engagement, wedding… This year, though, he decides to remember something else. This year, he’s celebrating the first day he looked at her. Ten years ago on September 5^th, he looked past what he thought she was: a timid Hufflepuff, and saw what he knows her to be now. There are more words for it, he supposes, but only one of them has ever really mattered to him: Amelia.

Awww... Chica, you make me ooze fluff... and het. WTF. I love you. *twitch* I'm going to miss RP badly when school starts and I've got no spare time. But I think I'll miss glomping you constantly more... *hicsob* **IS SUCH A HORMONAL GIRL**

tiredraven @ 2007-08-28T22:42:00

2007-08-29T05:49:53Z

Huh, well, I've been meaning to update for a while. But I haven't and I haven't and I haven't and then, whoops, I didn't again. I had a lot to say, but I was... not being good at saying it. I dunno. I've been getting way better at talking about stuff, and then things just sort of... you know, die. I guess I sort of expected another onset waaaay sooner, between Grandpa and Gus and my Uncle and... well, everything. Really, the last few months shouldn't have been nearly as fun as they were.

But... I think I'm finally having a bit of that break down. It's a long time coming.

Which I suppose is weird, because I've been spending all week getting people out of mood funks. Go figure. I've been super up-beat and happy and really, really into the phrase 'oh, nothing's really going on. I had a few night terrors, but whatever. They'll get better. So...'

I really shouldn't do that, and I know I shouldn't, but I've been having a really hard time raining on people's parades recently. -.- I've been really good at talking to SOMEONE over the past few months when I've been feeling down, but I just couldn't bring myself to. Depression, I guess. I kind of figured it would come back... just sooner. Not right now, when I actually think everything should be pretty damned ok. Whatever. Life doesn't make sense sometimes...

So... I'll just start with night terrors, because I want to get this out of my system. I can feel them sneaking up on me.

Oh, fuck. Honest to God, I've never had a more miserable week than that one. I didn't sleep for more than an hour at a time without waking up crying or screaming or just feeling really fucking scared out of my bloody mind. I had night terrors when my Dad had cancer, but I didn't remember them. This time? I'd wake up and my mind would be blank, but by the time I'd calmed down enough to lie back down and try to go to sleep again, they'd flood back. And that would make me cry and curl up into a little ball and try to get to sleep again, and when I finally could, I'd have another night terror and it would happen all over again.

Uh huh. And some of you just told me to try and sleep. Not worth it. It was way better to make things with as much caffeine as possible and not ever fall asleep EVER.

And you know what else? They were awful. Horrible. I don't know what my old ones were about, but these weren't... they weren't like, monsters coming to eat you or being engulfed by darkness nightmares. These were things like... like... I went to Gus's funeral and he woke up, sat up in his coffin, and blood started pouring out of his ears. Dad got killed by drunk drivers on my graduation night. By Cole. Wtf. Naomi and husband (...?) were murdered. Dad's cancer came back. There was an entire dream where my Grandma was in the hospital, dying, and she was telling me about what an awful person my Grandpa was, and she was glad he died. I stood in front of a bottle of pain meds in one, just looking at them, thinking, and then at the end I popped the entire bottle. That one was weird--and short. Out-of-body. Watching myself commit suicide. Sarah got sick in the middle of math and started puking blood and died. Mom's car ran off a bridge. GOD. Just... some of them were so fucking real, and I could see them happening. And others were weird, but I could... they all--*shudders* Gah, I can't even explain what they were. Sometimes it felt like premonitions...

*MOMENTS WHEN I KNOW I'M REALLY FUCKING SCREWED UP*

So, yeah. They've stopped. They stopped right before I spent the night at Sarah's... But, yeah. Not much you can do about that, right? They're gone... I'm fine... except...

Jeez, everything has just been getting to me. After all these months, guess what? Gus is just going to have to sit on his ass and make due. You know, with having a fucking bomb in his head. *sigh* They still don't really know what the fuck is wrong with him, but they've narrowed it down. He either has a tumor buried deep within his brain (Malia-censors: WTFOHSHITCANCER), but if it is the doctors are pretty sure it's benign, or, the more likely and way less fun of the two (yeah, um, worse than cancer and brain tumors. Uhh, whut?), is that he has... well, I forget what it's called. But I assume everyone knows how the circulatory system works. You know, big arteries near heart, smaller the farther away you go, big veins near lungs, smaller the farther away you go, all over the place. Yeah, well, they meet up, obviously. In a normal person's body, they pass clearly around each other and the flow of the brain is normal. In people like (they think) Gus, they get tangled up sometimes.

So... what? Well, it... gets caught up sometimes. It's prone to bursting. They can happen most anywhere, but Gus just happens to have it in a really, really bad spot.

Buried down way deep in his brain.

He was lucky. If it had been much worse, he would have died. When you bleed in your brain, there's not much space for the blood to go. You suffocate parts of your own brain...

There was a doctor who told us we should do a surgery to make sure that was what was happening, but it's been ruled out. And I'm not really sure how I feel about all of this... on the one hand, Gus is fine. I'm so, so happy and relieved that he's alright. He's starting high school like a normal kid and they're sure he'll be fine, but... but he's sitting on a time bomb. A vein could burst tomorrow. The next day. Never. We'll never know until it happens.

I'm so glad he's ok. It's just the nagging feeling in the back of my mind that's reminding me he might not stay ok that's worrying me.

What else? I've just been in a rather emo mood with my writing lately. It's produced some good stuff, actually. I'm writing an original right now based off of my experiences with Dad's cancer, only the ending is different. It's my old friend Taylor's ending--his Dad was diagnosed two months after mine and he was dead before the end of first grade. I wonder about him sometimes; his mom got re-married to some rich guy from Washington and I never saw him again... It's too bad, we were really close for a while. Our Dad's were a lot alike. Garden freaks... Anyways, it's my thoughts, it's Taylor's story. So far, the part I like best is this: 'It's funny how kids pick up on tragedy before it ever happens.
I am four years old. I am young, and I believe in angels in the clouds.'

*sigh* Actually, it's been helping me reign in emotions a lot. It's sad and raw and it reminds me a lot of... well, what I'm writing about. It's viewing something very serious and deadly fro the eyes of a five-year-old. It's scary, because I remember having some of these conversations with my Dad. He was home every day, and I'd watch movies with him, and one day I asked him if he thought Mufasa was in heaven with Boppa. ^^; It's innocent stuff like that... Childish glee because I got to eat on the bed and my Dad was home to play with me every day. You don't get it, but part of you does... It's a weird state of mind.

Oh, and I think I had a bit of a 'oh shit that makes sense' moment when writing it. ('Heaven', at the moment. Could change). There's a line where I (? Taylor, someone) is talking to Dad and they say 'I think it's easier to remember her if I know what she and I had in common'. Which was just one of those things that I wrote before I even thought about it, and then the next minute I looked at it and went, wow, you know, that's kind of true... I made a list of the things I had in common with Grandpa and put it on my bulletin board. ^^ Felt good.

What else? I'm putting off everything on WP. I should be doing a lot more. I can't bring myself to. I feel really bad, because I kind of went off on a few people. Self-imposed break, I guess, but I should be around. It's not fair to poor Sasha, trying to run my house and do college (again, don't want to discourage her from giving college a second go), not ruining her relationship, and watching over her Grandma. Not to mention her uncle who's having surgery this week. Just, blah. I feel really bad about not paying attention to the site, but I really, really wished I cared more. -.-

Overall, I just feel sort of shitty. But... GOD, that was a great release of pent up bullshit. ^_______^

If you'd rather hear something happy... Chica and I have been having a splendid time acting like idiots all over the internets. :D Mostly on AIM. Really, it's incredible. I feel really, really happy when I'm talking to her. ^^ She makes me act like myself, all happy and bouncy and hyper. I haven't been feeling like that lately, and it's nice. I've been cheering HER up a lot, which I find random and odd. I always think she's cheering me up. T_T Apparently, I'm amusing. Who knew? Honestly, I don't think of myself as funny. ^^

I made a lot of money nannying. The kid was perfect. I got a $75-ish bonus just because she liked me. *love*

I'm obsessed with KH fandom right now. To know this, all you need to do is look at my devart profile... besides the cowboy!Malia picture and the DRUGS!Wicked picture, everything on there is AkuRoku. Basically. I love them muuccchhhllllyyyy. Besides RP with Chica, everything I've been doing online is that fandom as of late.

It's just t3h lurve. *glomps Sarah for showing it to her*

Oh, yeah, and my English class? Dude, it's going to rock out-fucking-loud. Sarah, Gemma, and I all in one class. I'm super excited. <3

Ok, I think I'm done for the night. This took me ages, I kept on getting emo'd out by it and switching to other tabs to amuse myself with fluff. T_T

Giving Chica her IsiLia drabbles tomorrow as a 'WELCOME BACK FROM YOUR FIRST DAY OF HIGH SCHOOL' present. (Haha, she's back in school already). To bribe her into telling me as many stories as is humanly possible... mwahaha!

(Good thing I basically flat-out told her that)

She's writing me a Chodemort, though! LOVE! LOVELOVELOVELOVELOVELOVE! THAT'S MY FAVORITE HET PAIRING OF ALL TIME! *GLOMPS IT TO DEATH* Best. Crack. Ever.

CHODEMORT-MY CRAAAAKKKKKKYYYY ANTI-DRUG! <3

Shower--and Daily Show and Colbert Report--time for Malia. Nightnight.

Full summary to come when I'm not about to fall over

2007-08-16T17:47:49Z

Well, England rocked. Out loud. It was so outrageously fun! Only now I'm tired and about to fall over and Sarah, if I don't call you, it's because I finally gave up and went to sleep. -.-

Oh, BTW, EDINGBURGH. BEST. CITY. EVER. <3

I'm currently typing up the very first part of a fic I started writing on the plane, inspired by Gay Street in Bath. :D ... Yes, Draco is a prostitute. Yay! It's crakkkkky and most likely smutty goodness... and way, way, way not HD compliant. ^_______^

('Draco took a moment to let his short-circuited brain attempt to sort out what he'd just heard. "You're whoring yourselves out to Uncle Severus!"')

Putting up pics on myspace... because I'm lazy and don't feel like uploading them elsewhere. I'll probably end up putting my favorites up anyways.

Music in England

2007-08-10T17:26:14Z

I would update you on important things, such as what I'm doing and why I think that tourists (including myself, yes), are a waste of time and space and how small children are making me seriously ANNOYED, and if I don't stop being 'on vacation' soon I'll stop liking kids and well, that won't work into my epic plan of teacherish doom, because even with my short attention span I've had the idea to become a teacher for nearly a year now and not abandoned it. If I ceased now, life would FAIL. So, this shall not be spoken of. And neither will the incredibly introspective!Malia that has been apearing with irritating frequency. (I DO NOT NEED ANYMORE INSIGHTS INTO WHY I AM THE WAY THAT I AM, THANK YOU VERY MUCH SELF!) These long car rides are driving me slightly insane, or perhaps more than slightly, I stopped questioning... hm... which brings me back to why I posted this entry:

The music I have been listening to is eclectic, even for me! What a feat! Let's look at the songs that I've been listening to with heinous frequency:

'Born to Run', Bruce Springsteen
'Falling', Ben Kweller
'Layla', Eric Clapton
'Ruby' Kaiser Chiefs
'Your Family Is Poor', Draco and the Malfoys
'The End of Innocence', Don Henley
'Complainte de la Butte' and 'Hallelujah', Rufus Wainwright
'I Wanna Llama', Two of a Kind
'Last Man on the Moon', SR-71

And the artists:

Heart
Bruce Springsteen
Draco and the Malfoys
SR-71
Amos Lee
Ben Kweller
Beck
Bob Marley
Don Henley
Chris Thomas King
Oomph!
Criteria
The White Stripes
Die Mannequin
Fatboy Slim
Gogol Bordello
Israel Kamakawiwo'ole
Joe Cocker
Elliot Smith
Johnny Cash
Kanye West
NIN (... lol)
Reel Big Fish
Rammstein
Santana
The Newsies

...

I am so weird about music...

AMOS LEE.

Ohmygoodness, I do believe he is the secret love of my life! *Steals him and runs away, flailing madly and proclaiming undying love of him and his music* I've been listening to him every night when I go to sleep, and then in the mornings with my tea (ohmygod, I'm so addicted, it's completely ridiculous! I'm going to need so much shitting tea when I'm back people will think I've gone batshit crazy! Forget coffee! I'm so dependant on caffeinated tea now I could asplode if I didn't have it at least once a day!), and then again in the freakishly long car rides we take every day to Dad's gardens. Coincidentally, I have so many weird, artsy pictures of apples, you wouldn't believe how boring it gets in those goddamn gardens. Mom and I are humoring Dad and pretending to be horribly interested in the different varieties of Skunk Cabbage one finds in the world, but even as a plant snob, I can't say I can stand the boredom (or the stench) for much longer. I rather wish to go back to London, there I could just trick them into riding the Tube for much longer than was necessary and go exploring when we came up somewhere in the midst of the City.

Anyways, the Cotswolds are nice, but I'm, so far, much more attached to Italy. It was fantabulous in a way that... I dunno. Less touristy, harder to find... it was like running into gems in the countryside. Turn a corner and find a giant walled city, complete with cute little old ladies and houses that have been lived in by the same family since the 11th century. It was sweet and romantic and quaint, and the Cotswolds are loud and busy and traffic-y and touristy, horribly touristy. I love it, don't get me wrong, but I can't help but thinking one should do England before Italy. Besides the cars on the other side of the road, it often feels just like home...

Not for a second did I mistake Italy for good old Oregon. <3... for both. And England, of course.

Still having a marvelous time, even the gardens aren't so bad when you find a nice interesting plant to take a million pictures of. XD Love and miss you all, and I shall talk to you all at length upon my return.

Also, Sarah, I'm working on my parents for tickets to the Con. Mom is still being a buttface. It's easier when she's gotten her coffee, I'll try tomorrow morning.

Woo!

2007-08-08T20:22:28Z

Have a computer in Cotswolds.

Will not be able to update. :D

Mayhaps in Edinburgh?

Love you all and am still having a fabulous time sending crazy postcards to my family and not my friends for I brought none of their addresses. You shall hear it eventually.

I was going to update by saying 'Malia wishes to update her livejournal, however she has unfortunately been abducted by aliens and cannot reach a computer'. This being rather vague and not making sense unless I explained it, I decided against it. ^_^

No, I shall not explain it now even though I have the time. XP

Had more to say, train of thought is gone. This entry, overall, flows awfully and I'm not ashamed. :P

~~Now to go write another postcard to Frankie about the Japanese tourists at the English pubs~~.

I really should lay off them... but I'm half Japanese, so screw it.

Jean Jacques Rousseau...

2007-08-05T17:49:32Z

JEAN JACQUES ROUSSEAU IS MY HERO! <3 'If I am not better, at least I am different.' Oh my god, that quote is going to be on everything I possess when I get back from England.

Speaking of which...

FWEEEEEEE! <3 It's still awesome and amazing. I just got back from seeing STOMP, and it was bloody awe-inspiring. ^_^

:D

I'm being lazy and talking to people on my forum, so I'm not going to say much today. But I love you all and I'm still having a fabulous time and... yeah. ^^

GREETINGS FROM ENGLAND. <3

2007-08-03T20:00:10Z

Well, I love and miss you all, but England has totally been kicking ass. It's just awesome amounts of fun. However, I have to update you on my list of irrational fears. ^_^

Squirrels
Geese
These really weird pens that creep me out
Ravens (New!)
Pigeons (New!)

Ravens. Are. So. Scary! SO SCARY! I am forever terrified of them and their scariness! *Is dead* They're huge and evil and they bite and they eat pounds upon pounds of raw meat and peck peoples eyes out and STALK YOU! TERRRRRIIIIFFFFFIIIIEEEEDDDDD! >_>

PIGEONS! THEY'RE SO FREAKING DIRTY, AND THERE'S SO MANY OF THEM, AND THEY'LL RUN AT YOU IF THEY THINK YOU HAVE FOOD, AND OHMYGODS I HATE THEM SO MUCH, THEY ABSOLUTELY TERRIFY ME!

So far, I have run into ALL of my strange fears while in England. T_T

But... I love it. It's so much fun, I'm having a grand old time. ^^ Oooh, and to think it was almost the trip that never was! O.O Horrible, I say, horrible! The day before we left at about 11 PM, my Nana took a spill. As she is 89 years old, this was slightly problematic and uber scary. So my parents went to check on her at her apartment, and they were gone until 3 AM. Thusly, I was up until about 3 AM. My crazy friend that spends far too much time online late with me, <lj user=standardsorrow>, kept me company until about 1, but as she's on the East coast... lol. So then I spent an hour in the shower (T_T, I was so tired and I had to stay up in case they had to go to the hospital and they needed something), and then spent the next hour just... failing. :P Almost falling asleep, being angry at my dog, desperately looking for fanfiction to keep me awake, etcetra. All in all, the night sucked. A lot. I'm angry with it.

Of course, the next 48 hours I spent travelling and definitely not sleeping. I was so bloody tired by the time it was 2 PM over here, I nearly died. >>

Oh, but the hot guys! THERE'S SO MANY OF THEM. *Is a testosterone deprived crazy person* T3h yummmmmmm! Unfortunately, most of these incredibly sexy guys have been Germanic... um... what? There were two Spanish guys, a really, really, really incredibly hot french guy (I've heard Frenchies are overrated but DAMN. *_*) and two Brits. With a lot, a lot, a lot of super hot Germanic guys mixed in. O_O So sexy. Accents, bodies, faces, hair, HAIR, CLOTHES! ^_^ I is one happy, happy child.

I have much more to say it, but not an incredible amount of time, lol. I have a rather fabulous little traveller's journal going on, it's... um... very Raven. ^________^ Don't be too horribly terrified... or do. Considering I spent about three pages describing how incredibly awesome chillies are... AND THEY ARE. THEY ARE SO FREAKING COOL AND CUTE AND SOOOOO PHOTOGENIC! LOVE <33333333333333333

On top of this, I am such a huge plant snob. >> I know, how random. It shall all be explained when I get home and have enough time to put on everything I want to put on.

Oh, and <lj user=mirithespazz>, mom wants to know where you're bookstore was. She can't find a decent one.

I LOVE YOU ALL! I shall try to update at least once more before we leave, maybe even in the next two days. Depends of if I can get my parents to come back. Speaking of which, here they are. I should leave now. ^^

My Dearest Lovelies...

2007-07-31T04:36:25Z

Well, darlings, I leave for England tomorrow! In like twelve hours! *Is ticking the hours away* Butt...

OH MY GOODNESS DARLINGS, I WILL MISS YOU ALL! >>;

Fabien and I must have spent five minutes saying goodbye to each other today. T_T I'll miss her lotsly.

~~Sarah is going to kill me for saying that, but she can bugger off~~.

Just kidding, Sarah darling. ^^

Fwaa! I'm so excited! *RUNS AROUND IN LARGE CIRCLES*

I'm going to try and update at least once while I'm in London. Plus, I'm keeping a traveler's log for... myself... and as I'm generally so sarcastic when I write them, I might post it just for kicks when I return.

I shall be back... like on AIM and stuff on the 15th. Or probably the 16th for jetlag. I'm crazy when jetlagged. :P Fabien knows... she got my crazy try-to-stay-awake PM when I was jetlagged last. XP

Ah, Sarah, you're giving me a look. I can feel it. ^__________^

Well, TA'S DARLINGS. <3

My Post-Its and Me

2007-07-29T03:47:52Z

With my Post-Its and books, I am completely OCD. Yay! I think I get more OCD when I haven't slept. Luckily, this does not transfer over to my packing, or we may have a problem.

First off, I know, Post-Its? How OCD can you be with Post-Its? Oh, so OCD. So OCD. For those of you who have seen my room, my calendar (which was only there to balance out my room anyways... yeah, the OCDness again :P) and my letters from my favorite little kids are gone from that spot over my bed. ^^ The latter have been put in what I like to call 'The Big Bad Binder of Epic Doom'. AKA: The Thing That Holds Awards and Other Shit I Don't Have Space For. Also the place I keep the American Legion Award. Where else would you put it? Somewhere where people can see that you basically won the Young Republican Award? I think not. Wrong political party, guys. Anyway, that spot is now covered with Post-its in five colors: pink, yellow, green, blue, and purple. In that order. Because if you pretend pink is red and take out a bunch of colors, it's in the same order as the rainbow! ... *cough*

Zanywho, I gots all my Post-its up! FWEEE! They have all my fic ideas on them. Pink is romance, yellow is comedy, green is original, blue is tragedyt/hurt/comfort, and purple is angst! Yes, I most certainly DO need an entire color for angst! ^_^ It looks pretty. It also made me super, super inspired to write some comedy. Sample muse? 'Fred is displeased with the amount of wailing going on about his death. He proceeds to prank the Weasley family in heaven, safe from his mother's rage.'

^^ Deviantart makes me much more happy about Fred's death than is most likely normal.

Besides this, my books are all organized! <3 Sorted by genre (fantasy and sf on the shelves in the computer room, picture books and series in my room, and the other stuff like literature, fiction, memoir, and historical fiction and what not in the case in the closet) and author's last name. My whole shelf of Agatha Christie amazes me. So does the shelf of Anne McCaffrey. Ah, the love I have for those women. *SIGH*

All of this makes for a very happy, if stressed out and tired, me. ^^

Side note: Boccone Dolce--Bitch yes. Made my life better. <3333333

Gheeyahhh

2007-07-18T05:17:02Z

*sigh* If only I knew where 'Gheeyahhh' came from, I might make some progress. XD

Basically, I hate writing. The only thing that's working for me right now is a Neville fic, and while I don't exactly mind this, I really, really need to work on a present. Several, actually. It'll be sad if I don't finish them, even if it's becoming increasingly clear I'm going to have to force my presents upon Sarah. >.> It'll be especially sad if I don't finish my special project, as I was looking forward to being done with it.

The writing class I'm taking right now both fueled and diminished this hatred of writing. And of the teacher. While I appreciate figurative language in my stuff, I don't usually sit down and think of all the different ways I can use human characteristics to describe rain. And I still don't understand how rain crawls. I've never really seen rain meandering down a street, nor have I seen it screaming onto a defenseless car. T_T On the other hand, sitting down and forcing me to write with absolutely no direction for a half an hour was really, really necessary. It got rid of all sorts of writers block, even if it did come back just a bit later. Which was, of course, dumb and frustrating, but whatever. Getting to write was refreshing. And, actually, really therapeutic. I forgot how much I pour all sorts of shit into writing, but I've been so busy not talking about everything, things sort of spilled into the story before I even thought about it.

So, despite writers block, it was a good day. Multiple stress-busters: a two-hour block of period where it was just me--walking to the swimming pool and swimming for an hour and then walking back, and writing without rules or regulations or plot for a half an hour. ^^ If this story would work, I'd be set.

Is ok, though, and I will prove this by putting up something that I like rather a lot I wrote in my class. ^^

Title: The Orange That Got Eaten and His Thoughts Along the Way (mouthful? Why yes)
Rating: PG-13 for gore? XD
Warnings: Well, he gets his skin ripped off and chopped into fourths... if you don't like the killing of fruits, you may be offended.
Summary: Life was lonely for the last orange in the fruit bowl...
Author's Notes: I think I first got this idea when I was in... 6th grade. XD I was plague by it, but got a chance to play around with it in a writing class.

Life was lonely for the last orange in the fruit bowl. His thoughts were absorbed by the awful scent of Lysol that always seemed to linger in the air, and if there was ever a moment he could get his mind off of the Lysol that completely engulfed his senses, he would find himself ponder about the humans, the last thing he wanted to think about.

When he was just a flower on his orange tree he had heard tales of the fate of oranges. Oranges almost never got to live a full life. In their prime they would be picked off of their mother tree and shipped to grocery stores. And then humans, with their long hands and slender, dangerously sharp fingernails would hand pick the oranges they wanted to eat. In the stores, they would brutally squeeze the oranges to see if they were too ripe, or not ripe enough.

For a long time the orange was sure the stories of humans eating oranges were just myths, but he had seen it for himself now.

It was no myth, it was real. And it was only a matter of time until he too would be eaten.

........

The sun was high in the sky, and the orange was worried. He was more and more worried by the second, in fact. The human kept looking at him hungrily and moving him from place to place, as if deciding whether she wanted to eat him now or not. Out of the fruit bowl, into the fruit bowl. Onto the cutting board, off of the cutting board. The suspense was driving him insane.

If you're going to eat me, he thought, just do it now so I don't have to keep wondering when my moment will come! The stories he had heard rang in his ears, haunting him mercilessly. He could almost feel his skin being pulled off his body, almost see the human delightedly licking her fingers when his blood squirted onto her. Over and over he saw other oranges having the blood squeezed out of them, being chopped into pieces. But, as he had recently learned, such was the fate of a commercially grown Florida Orange.

All of a sudden, he felt the humans hand gripping him. He screamed in terror as the human brought him to the cutting board. Instead of looking at him as she had done before, she immediately stuck her fingers into the top of his head and ripped off a bit of his skin. Yelping in pain, he tried to roll away, but she had her hand on him firmly and tore off half of his skin. He was in such agony he barely even noticed when more of his skin came off, except for the horrible stinging of the always-Lysol-filled air on his bare flesh.

Wailing in tortured dolor, he saw a knife out of the corner of his eye. Though he had little time to study it, it appeared sharper than he had imagined the knife that killed him would be. The knife started toward his head, and the world slowed down. He saw it gliding forward in the midst of his tormenting woe. It came closer and closer until he felt it slice through the top of his head. He expected everything to go black just then and for the agony to stop, but it continued, to his horror. He could feel it slicing down, narrowly missing his heart and vital organs. It went through one of his seeds. The human pulled the knife out and again started cutting him, in fourths this time. The pain continued to shoot through the four slices of him, now laying, scattered, on the cutting board.

One of his slices squirted blood onto the human's fingers, and she delightedly licked it off, just as he had imagined. She picked up one of his slices and he got closer and closer to her mouth. A last thought rang through his brain: I wonder why humans think oranges taste so good….