Thank you, Language

Though I still intend to be a psychologist, there was a while I considered going into linguistics. Language FASCINATES me, and because of that I've studied (at least in brief) quite a number; these include Mandarin, German, Latin, Ancient Greek, and French. Chinese is the latest and I'm very excited about it. Apparently Mandarin is the #1 language spoken in the world--even more common than English, so it's a good one to learn.

One thing about Mandarin I find really cool is that the tone of voice you use with a certain word can change its meaning. Because of this, you can actually have a sentence made up of one syllable over and over again like "Mama ma ma ma" (translated, this means Did your mother scold a horse?); the words are differentiated by their melody. Some of these "tones" are really pretty; it almost sounds like you're singing.

One drawbacks of this way of speaking is that saying a full sentence in Mandarin (for the inexperienced) is kind of like playing a phrase on piano off of sheet music you don't know, in base clef when you're used to treble, with your bad hand, when you aren't familiar with piano. In other words, there are a LOT of things to think about. However, once you find the underlying beat, the rhythm of what you're trying to say, it really flows and you feel--or at least I feel!--very accomplished.

One fear I had about these tones is that it would take away some expression I use in my words. I use melody to show what I'm saying, my mood, how serious I am, how urgent. I think it's like in French, how none the words have built in stress (like how we say AK-sent for accent rather than ak-SENT. In France, they only stress the last syllable of a phrase). Learning English for them must feel limiting, since they cannot stress things as they feel them, if that makes sense. In the end, I think it's all just a matter of getting into the language and understanding its flow. Once you get that then expressing yourself should be easy.

Anyhow, language rocks. One of the ways I appreciate it is by 'collecting' "Thank you" and "Hello" in all the different tongues I can. Here are a few I've managed to gather from friends and classes and other such things throughout these seventeen years that have made up my life.

 Latin: Gratias
Spanish: Gracias (note the "C" in place of the "T" you find in Latin)
German: Danke
French: Merci
Hindi: Meherbani
Russian: (pronounced) spa-SI-bo
Mandarin: (pronounced SHEE-EH shee-eh)
Xiexie

Anyhow, gratias/gracias/danke/merci/meherbani/spa-SI-bo/xiexie for reading!


 Galaxy

New Beginnings

Yesterday I spent remembering and celebrating the old year. Today, I'm making plans for the new one. College starts up in a week or so and I'll have to get back on an actually-go-to-bed and then wake-up-early schedule again. That will be an adventure, all right :D

As for resolutions, I've decided to read every day, write ever day, practice music/voice/German every day, and draw everyday. I want to get in shape. I miss being strong. I could pick my mom up when I was twelve XD Also, I must finish a draft of one of my stories. ANY of them. Just get it done. To list, the more serious and likely to be completed of my literary endeavors include Imperfect, a novella about an angel who falls in a guy's back yard, Kings of Darkness, where a jock "detective" is thrown in the midst of a massive power struggle in a fantasy world, That Story with Esme and Faun (unnamed as of yet), involving a quiet, clever gypsy and his sunny reckless sister in their chase to save his soul, and Shattered, a twisty turny retelling of Snow White spanning over a decade. I've seriously slacked in my writing. It's depressing.

This is a new year. It's an invisible stake we can put in the ground. It's where we can say: "I'll be better this time around." A better person, better at whatever things you treasure, better at learning, and better at being. And BBC's Sherlock is on today! I have been waiting so long for that :B

Huzzah, you all! Happy new year. Make it something special, 'cause you deserve it :3

What is the world beyond the stars?

What a beautiful phrase! Now be amazed, my friends. A seven year old wrote that. A seven year old. Just today. "What is the world beyond the stars". My baby brother. By little Brother1. He had Dear Sis write it up for him, since he still struggles with putting it down himself (he's an excellent reader, though--has abeen since he was four).

Here's the lyric. I wanna share this with you because I am so incredibly impressed.

What is the world beyond the stars?
Why are you sad?
There must be
Some way to see
Why those tears come down

I know you'll be the man
Go through the ways the darkness
Come back with not even a scar
You'll that you are the man
How can you be sad?

Oh dear how are you?
Because I don't know how are you?
Oh dear how are you?
Because I don't know how are you?

(Next Verse)

There's a way through every sadness
I have seen it true
You can see the land through the winter
The summer
Even spring

You know there's no way to be sad
Through this summer day
Everything's good
Nothing's bad
Just fight the sadness

Oh dear how are you?
Because I don't know how are you?
Oh dear how are you?
Because I don't know how are you?

What kind of seven year old writes like that? He can't carry a tune for the life of him, bless his heart. But I think my brother's a poet.

College, Cookies, and Chocolate Chips

Yessir, I'm a sixteen year old in community college. It's a totally new experience since I homeschooled all my life, but I'm loving every second. I have A's in English, A's in Psychology, A's in Music, and I'm hoping an A in art. It's a blast. Of course, I'm really busy. I'm taking part in a production o'er there, too, so I've hardly had time to post or write or draw or anything.

I did a lot of work yesterday. I cleaned up my schedule then so today I did get to draw. I'm gonna write. And right now I'm posting! I'm super happy that I got this time to lay out some sketches. We don't draw people in Art class--we draw vases. It was nice to go back to my cutesy cartoons for a little while.

I started rewriting Kings of Darkness. It's coming out pretty cool.

I don't feel like taking the time to polish this post. I just want a place to shout out my delight. Also, I'm making cookies. Cookies. How cool is that?

LIFE IS GOOD

_{BEWARE! Random italicized German words will follow in this post.}

So, I was takin' college testing, and I was panicking because I somehow forgot how to divide.

WAM! Mom appears in the doorframe. She holds up a slip of paper:

DON'T PANIC, the paper says, in large friendly letters. Just like the Hitchhiker's Guide. It continues as she unfolds the parchment: It's all good. I love and adore you.

And suddenly this warm glow overcame me and I finished with college level reading and writing, followed by high school level math. Viola! Not that that has anything to do with what's going on right now, but I just wanted to proclaim how wunderbar my world really is.

Don't panic, world! It's all good! People love and adore me. I am so happy.

Now, I'm sick to my stomach thanks to too much of Momma's homemade pie, and I just saw videos of dear Mutter pre-meeting-Vater, and I just danced to some of my favorite songs (BREAKING BENJAMIN :D), and I just hung out with my dear Aunt Mars and Grandma and her BF, and I just partied like it was 2011 BABY, so I just wanted to say just how cool and sweaty and happy I am. No alcohol involved, I swear. (Dear Sis and I have a pact. But that's another post).

So. Life's cool. Life's great.

AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOMMY. I LOVE AND ADORE YOU.
You rock :3

Pleasures vs. Habits

"First you form habits, then habits form you."

That's something pretty much everyone's heard around here, right? What I'm quickly starting to realize as I grow through life is just how sad these habits can be. Things I used to love doing -- things I would do every single day just because they were so darn awesome -- become habits. Something that is forever a part of my day, whether I like it or not.

Y'know, I used to enjoy making up a smoothie. Now it's something I expect, and even when I have it, the drink doesn't hit the spot like it used to. No tantalizing titillation of fireworks twisting over my taste buds to be found. What's worse is that when it doesn't happen, I just feel sad.

I've taken part in lots of online forums. Some were wonderful. Some were lacking. Some I still adore. And some I am attached to, in a way I'd rather not be. I keep up with these in an almost obsessive manner that blocks out the sunshine from my days and keeps me glued to the computer. I feel awful if I don't check them and unsatisfied even when I do.

While I'm on the topic of satisfaction, I'm quickly realizing how lacking that is in my life as of now. EVERYTHING is disappointing me. My favorite songs don't send my heart thumping anymore. I can't pay attention to books. Food I used to love is lacking. Everywhere I go, just about anything I do, leaves me feeling vacant. Like there's something missing from what I've just done. Like I hadn't really done it at all.

Don't think for a moment I'm unhappy. This post is certainly coming across far gloomier than I intended it to be. I guess I'm just growing up and losing my childish joy. It's weird; I always thought I'd be one of those people to play shamelessly like a kid when I was thirty-something.

I'm starting college this fall and very excited for that. I'm going to take a class in drawing that I'm really looking forwards too. There's also a musical I intend to audition for this winter. Family's over this July, and my dear mama's birthday is only a few days away. Overall, I'm looking forwards to the future (here's where I start singing Thanks for the Memoriesby Fall out Boy. Heheh XD), and I'm enjoying my now.

I do, however, think I need to eat more fruit. It's such a shame the watermelon's so bad this year. *pouts*

Snow Patrol

I love this band beyond words. It inspires me. His voice is so soft and beautiful. The lulling beats are hypnotic (they make me think of The Phantom of the Opera, almost). The music just draws you in.

And then there's the lyrics. I look for song meanings despite the fact that I already feel what they are about; I just have a hard time putting it to words. Yet most everyone seems to think these are break up songs. I don't buy it. The ones that ARE about romance don't feel like an 'end' to me. More like a road bump. Like a row in the middle of a loving couple. That's what I love about this band-- how their lyrics portray the rough side of a relationship with someone you care about without being rid of the good side.

"It's beginning to get to me
That I know more of the stars and sea
Than I do of what's in your head
Barely touching in our cold bed

Are you beginning to get my point?
How all this fighting with aching joints
Is doing nothing but tire us out
No one knows what this fight's about

It's so thrilling but oh so wrong
Don't have to prove that you are so strong
'Cause I can carry you on my back
After our enemies attack

I tried to tell you before I left
But I was screaming under my breath
You are the only thing that makes sense
Just ignore all this present tense"

I mean, how beautiful is that? Don't get me started on 'Eyes Open', 'Run', or 'Chasing Cars'. Those songs make me cry. Then there's 'Shut Your Eyes', just about the COOLEST song EVER, and the bouncy 'Hands Open'. Anyhow, check Snow Patrol out. Seriously. The two albums I've heard of theirs rock.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

Er.

Hi.

It's been a while, hasn't it?

Okay, so I'm belated, but here mid-February I'll gladly grin and wish you the best this 2011. So far, my year's especially grand because this one, for the first time since 2008, I'm starting it without rheumatoid arthritis. I'M CURED! HURRAY! Yay for low-dose naltroxone even if it gives me insomnia! I CAN MOVE AGAIN!!

Which brings me to my first resolution. I want to get in shape! Sitting on the couch writing stories/watching tv/writing fanfiction/other non-physical activities (bad girl!) lost me the gorgeous physique I had when I was twelve. My muscles faded, a stomach appeared, AND I gained quite a bit of facial fat. Which is just laaaaaaame, 'cause I'm now a walking weakling as well as totally inflexible. I really want to be strong and lean again. Sooooo... #1! Get fit.

(There was a day I thought I'd never, ever, ever, ever have to wish that, and I allowed myself a bit of smugness over all the poor people who did. I feel utterly evil for that now.)

MOVING ON. I want to finish That Story with Esme and Faun! I still owe you a post describing those two darling gypsies, don't I, since you already Met Cass (see my previous post ;) ). I was writing a thousand words every single day in that novel for a few in a row, but I'm very quickly going nowhere. Writer's block be-darned. I guess I just have to sit down and do it. Now we've got #2! Finish That Story.

I'd also like to learn German, but it's going to be hard to find a way to do that. In the meanwhile, I already know a few words! Like danke and guten abend and gut Gott.

So, there you go. Get fit! Finish a story (I've got tons of ideas! I'll tell you all about them later, I promise. There's so much I want to share)! Learn German!

I guess now I'm off to start the new year and continue my old life, which I adore quite grandly. Much love, and keep checking over here at my galaxy, 'kay? I'll never abandon this dear blog for good ;)

Meet Cass

(Just so you know, this is an old picture)

Ladies and gents, meet Cass. He's a Kaleedish snype (aka Egyptian Knight; Kaleed is roughly a mix between Egypt and the romanticized medieval era with a bit of my own flare ;D), and the first in a series of posts on my newest literary endeavor, a story that has yet to be named. Heheh. He is the third main character, and shows up about a third of the way through the book.

Actually, Cass isn't really a snype just yet. He finished all his training a year early because he's so darn dedicated (you would be tried to find a more patriotic Kaleedish subject, that's for sure). That would be a good thing, if it didn't mean he had nothing to do anymore besides hang around the pharaoh's palace. He can't even graduate until he slays and flays a great beast, and since he is still technically a squire, he can't leave his post as a castle guard.

Cass makes the most of it all, of course. Being a squire puts him in a relatively high social status, a fact that he take to its fullest potential. When he isn't practicing with his khopesh (check it out! The black and gold one looks most like how I imagine his: just here ), showing off to his friends, practicing his duties or sneaking a peak at the shows folks put on for the pharaoh (he likes fake magicians best, with mirrors and all kinds of tricks), he's taking care of his appearance, because Cass is girly like that. He keeps his would-be blonde hair cropped to a buzz - since hardly a soul grows out their hair in Kaleed - and wears a long hat like shone above to block out the hot desert sun. He finds duste leftover from magic wielders and brushes his teeth with it, so when he smiles, they sparkle. He's extremely pleased with that effect and likens it to the fake magic shows he adores, even though it's real magic.

Not only Cass is extremely skilled when it comes to fighting, but he truly takes the code of chivalry to heart and follows its rules to the letter, carrying them around in a little papyrus book. Despite his morality, our squire is an inherently power-hungry person. Cass's greed and Cass's wish to be a true hero often play mental battle in the poor guy's head, which can make him freeze on the outside. He isn't the cleverest fellow out there, and his Sordian complexion belies his ties to Kaleed. He's cocky, conceited, overconfident, vain, greedy, and skinny despite his musculature. But beyond it all, Cass truly means the best, he's mean with the sword, the bravest man you'll ever meet (sometimes even to a foolish degree), and a real sweetie, too. Love him, hate him, or something in between - he'll just be glad for the attention ;D

(On a side note, if he were a character from King Arthur, Cass would totally be Kaye)

A Final Follow-up So I Can Shut Up About the PJ Series

(You might want to read this post before reading this one:

http://somewhereinthisgalaxy.blogspot.com/2010/12/because-true-love-isnt-shaky-or.html
)

BEWARE, Percy Jackson and the Olympians SPOILERS LIE AHEAD!

I really really really really really really enjoyed that series. I hated the love triangle (bah. If you could call it that. Rachel Elizabeth Dare never had a chance), but the action was nonstop and the whole thing was really funny. Most the characters didn't seem to have distinct voices in the dialogue, though Mr. Riordan was magically able to give them well defined personalities anyhow. I really really really did like that book, and here are some things that made it rock all the harder:

Relatable villains! Extra brownie points for the bad guys beyond Kronos you could actually get. (Luke, I'm looking at you. Ethan too. Can't forget Prometheus!)

Nonstop action! Things just kept going and going and going like the Energizer Bunny.

Hades! How could people hate such a grouchily lovable god? Poor guy really got the short end of the stick, and I couldn't help but love him. I just wish Mr. Riordan had taken note that out of all the other Greek gods, in mythology he and Persephone are the only ones who don't cheat on each other. I don't think he should have changed that for this story, but I still really enjoyed it. And you gotta love little Nico :D

Tyson! Because he is just the cutest cyclops ever.

Prometheus! Because he is just the awesomest titan ever, and I really do think he was good intentioned at heart.

Percy! Seriously, that kid really impressed me. He focused on the battle at hand and not some silly one-sided love mess. He gave up a chance at immortality to bring some recognition to demigods. He was very much in love with Annabeth throughout. He was brave and bold and wicked clever. He was forgiving and tolerant but drew the line. I think Mr. Riordan did a great job with our lead.

Some things I was disappointed in:

Hera. She isn't so lenient. This is the woman who made a man kill his own family (two little boys. Two children. His wife, too) for daring to be the son of a woman she hated and Hera's husband. She wouldn't let some puny demigod speak up to her like Annabeth did and only leave a few cow messes as punishment.

Hermes. So he was avoiding Luke because of the prophecy? Well, Greek Mythology has proved that you can do whatever the heck you want - but you won't change fate. Why couldn't he be with his son UNTIL all that happened? It would end the same way, that's how it always works in myth.

The spy. Silena? Hmm, I don't know - I was suspicious of Michael Yew. Because he was peeving the Ares cabin, I thought it might have been to keep them out of war. I thought he lied when he said he had given Clarisse the chariot, and that Silena would discover so when she went back to camp. Our daughter of Aphrodite returning with the Ares cabin to fight the draken really rocked, though, so that made up for it :nod: And I guess she made sense, and she surprised me, which was nice, but I'd hoped for a twistier more interesting conclusion to that mess.

And you know how I feel about Annabeth. Seriously, she spent the whole first two books mooning after Luke, but when Percy makes friends with a spunky clever redhead she gets all funny. Which I guess is just silly like all humanity (the race she so vehemently demeaned. Grr), but it still peeved me. I was really happy for her when she got to redesign Olympus, though. That has to be a dream come true for the girl, I know she'll do a great job.

I saw a picture for one the craziest ideas I've ever heard up on dA. Luke/Rachel? REALLY? I can't shake the feeling that it just might work. Especially since EVERYONE loves Luke. Thalia. Annabeth. Now Silena Beauregard. Rachel was only a matter of time ;-)

Check out the picture yourself: http://ribkadory.deviantart.com/art/Luke-n-Rachel-188240963

Because True Love Isn't Shaky or Uncertain, and action packed books rock

(If you want to understand this post better, try reading this one: http://somewhereinthisgalaxy.blogspot.com/2010/12/because-i-have-really-soft-spots.html )

I don’t want to strangle Annabeth. I’ve been thinking about it, and I realized the idea makes me sicker than her comment on mortals did in the first place. I wouldn’t be capable.

What I do want is for that Anna girl to quit calling Percy a coward, to listen to him, to stop picking on Rachel, to worry about other things besides a silly love triangle and work with the guy she cares about to SAVE THE WORLD before it bloody ends.

And I want Percy to stop leading on a girl he doesn’t really care for and get together with the one he does already. I respect Percy, sure, because he is focusing on his mission to save the world and Olympus and all that instead of Rachel vs. Annabeth (which I think is the main reason he’s letting R.E.D. get cozy with him in the first place). But still, he should be clearer. It’s just not fair on either end.

And Rachel! I wish Rachel would tell the guy about her silly visions. Sure, they might just be dreams. But they might not. Better safe than sorry. Or, at least, I’m assuming she’s having visions. It’s hard to tell in stories like this when you’ve just gotten into it.

I’m really loving this book to pieces. Hestia rocks to high heaven. I still wish there wasn’t a silly love triangle, but the humor’s great and the pace fantastic. It’s nice having a story where things just keep on happening.

Because I'm silly and passionate

Gosh darnnit, I’m fed up.

Okay, so there’s this really awesome series. It’s by a guy named Rick Riordan, it’s called Percy Jackson and the Olympians, and you’ve probably heard of it. It’s got modernized Greek Mythology, adventure, humor, excitement, and I love it to pieces. It’s been forever since I’ve touched anything from that series, but, jumping in on that final book, Mr. Riordan does an unbelievable job of catching me up. I could probably just read that one novel without any of the others and still get what’s going on. And it doesn’t feel repetitious even if you do remember what happened, because it’s like fond memories, calling back something you enjoyed a long time ago with a funny, dry twist to it in the narrative.

Anyhow, it’s a great book, it’s a great story, it’s great fun.

WHICH IS WHY THIS WHOLE THING IRKS ME SO MUCH.

There’s this character, who’s been there forever, who’s the romantic interest, who’s totally ending up with Percy no matter how any of us feel (though I’m getting the picture that people like her. I think I liked her too, ages ago. Before THE INCIDENT). Now I feel really weird about this, because I’ve adored the villains of a couple stories. I’ve relished in the messed up antiheroes. I’ve loved flaws that make a person cracked, but still leave them pure and lovely. But I hate Annabeth. I can’t stand her. She’s ruining the series for me, all because of one dumb thing she said when she was hurt and upset.

I wish Mr. Riordan had left romance out all together in this series (but kept the girls, ‘cause girls rock. Isn’t it weird how in general they only include girls in action series for the purpose of romance?). If he had, I wouldn’t be dealing with this trauma. Every second of the story that pretty grey eyed blonde takes up is a second I spend seething in animosity. And it’s not that I like the other girl better, though I guess I do (she introduces herself by her full name! Who does that? Who in the world introduces herself by her full name? Rachel Elizabeth Dare. The only person I know weird enough to do that is ME, which I guess makes me biased. But I want to make it VERY CLEAR that the reason I despise Annabeth has nothing to do with R.E.D.). It’s that Athena’s daughter hit my worst pet-peeve ever in literature, similar to the reason I resent Arya from Inheritance and elves in general in most stories (note I said most).

There’s this point, when Rachel and Percy and Annabeth are traveling together. Percy and Annabeth are demigods, meaning one of their parents was human, and one of them was a Greek God. Rachel’s a human, a mortal, and she likes Percy. Anna knows she likes Percy, and apparently Anna likes Percy too, even though she makes a point to insult and berate him all the time (I guess she’s nice enough otherwise, and the hate/love relationships can be cute when done properly, but really, I’m kind of getting bored when it comes to that). And there’s this point, where Annabeth says – ‘She’s just a mortal’ in this horrible tone, and I quote, “She said ‘mortal’ like it was some kind of disease”.

Excuse me. But last time I checked, I’m mortal, and I’m the one reading this bleeding story. Last time I checked, mortals built the Great Wall of China, and invented airplanes, and rollercoasters, and wrote brilliant stories – oh, wait, were all those folks who did great things demigods too? Because apparently George Washington was, in this series. Sooooo… if you want to be a respectable, responsible, powerful and/or brilliant person you’ve got to have a parent who’s a god? And if that person doesn’t happen to have a parent who’s a god, what does that make this ‘mere mortal’? A pawn, on some great big chess board? A fleeting speck of dust to be flicked away on the wind? An incompetent, uncreative, stagnant, helpless nothing?

Right. They’re just a mortal.

So I’m overreacting. I’m way overreacting. But the thought, that someone’s parentage can make someone ‘better’ or ‘worse’ than someone else makes me feel sick. Whenever I read about Annabeth, whenever she shows up, I get this sour, bitter taste in my mouth and feel sick in my stomach. It’s ruining this brilliant story for me and honestly, honestly infuriating me.

I used to get confused when people went off on moral characters so passionately and vehemently, while sticking up for the rotten ones. Now I think I understand. I guess that moral character just hit that person’s ‘spot’ like Annabeth hit mine. She’s a cool enough character; tough, clever, not at all helpless. A little arrogant, I guess, because all heroes have to have a ‘fatal flaw’ (so hubris is hers), but a cool enough character. I think I remember liking her. It’s such a shame, really. Because I so love this series, but now, reading it, I feel like throwing up.

I want to wrap my fingers around her neck, squeeze, and ask her what she thinks of mortals now. And I don’t even feel guilty about it, which makes me a little worried.

Holidays, Family, and MY AWESOME LIFE

My life rocks, I'm the luckiest girl the world, I could hardly be happier, I love my family so much, blah blah blah, you've heard it a thousand times but I can't stop thinking it, and I won't stop saying it. If I'm going to be a broken record, best to be stuck on these good points, right? (totally leeched that off my father, by the way. I like steeling quotes from my genius family :D)

So today we all went off together on a little walk through of cute itty bitty set ups of fairy tales with Christmas themes, and teddy bears, and pretty lights, and a place to donate cans for people who need food, and Santa Claus at the end. Tons of fun, really. The boys, my dearest little brothers, were absolute DOLLS (which was a pleasant surprise, since they’ve been rather tantrum-prone of late). I remember at the very end, Mrs. Claus came up to Brother2 (who had latched on to Daddy and was hiding in his shoulder, not daring to look up).

"I've got a Candy cane!" she said.

Brother2 snatched that candy in a blur, but he didn’t look up. He must have a sixth candy sense ;-)

Brother1 actually sat on Santa's lap, which surprised us all. He's not really that social when it comes to people he doesn't know very well.

"What do you want for Christmas?" Olde Saint Nick sayeth.

"I already got stuff," Brother1 replied cheerfully.

About then my heart melted. He's so happy, so complete - he doesn't have a single wish for Christmas. How wonderful is that? To know that your little brother is that happy. It just made my day.

I love the holiday spirit, I love the crisp winter air, I love caroling like there's no tomorrow with Dear Sister. I love dressing in thick cozy shirts and soft fluffy sweats. More than anything I love the people I'm with - how I scored such a fantastic family, I'll never know. Sheer dumb luck. And awesome genes, too, I guess. My parents picked well!

It's just amazing, because I admire each and every one of them. They're beautiful, in every way possible, and brilliant. They make my life so very wonderful and I'm so, so, so happy to be blessed with them.

I feel the need to express that in writing every so often. I'm not sure why, but... well, it's important to me. I want them to know how much they've shaped me. How much I love them. I want the world to know how happy I am, how blessed. I am so grateful, to everything there is to be grateful to.

I wish you all the best this holiday season, I'll send some love and some happy thoughts, too *blows a kiss* Expect to hear more from me! I've got a new story idea and will be ranting on it shortly, so be excited or run away screaming. You're pick.

Much love, Merry Christmas!

Do you know what rocks?

I’ll tell you what rocks! Polar bears. I mean, they’re HUGE. They’re like real, live magical monsters. I mean seriously, there should be more books with polar bears in them (besides the Golden Compass; that didn’t really interest me). A werebear would be a heck of a lot cooler than a werewolf, if you asked me.

My case: They’re ten feet tall, they’ve got big claws, they eat a fridge full of seal for just one meal, they have really sharp teeth, they live in a remote area, and they roar. MONSTERS. But they’re furry and cuddly warm creatures too, which means in a story it would be relatively easy to write in a soft side to whatever part they played. They’re perfect writing material if you ask me, and my fingers are just ITCHING to do something with them.

The only problem being: What?

So far, all I could think up was a fellow named Faun, with a personality I’m still building up, but I think it’d be a similar to Theodore Rosefelt’s (another of my characters – you might remember me ranting on him. Yes, he was named in fond remembrance of the United States’ former president of a similar name). He sold his soul (or maybe just half of it; I’m still working on that) to have the ability to shift forms into that of a bear whenever he chooses. I’m still figuring him out, though, and I’ve no clue what story he’s going to take part in. *shrugs helplessly*

Anyhow, I just felt like unloading my fascination and excitement about a beast nearly twice my height. I’d love to hear what you think and know about polar bears – especially in regards to literature – , as nowadays, all you hear about them is how they’re going extinct due to melting ice (which is really a very very sad thing).

More of my drawings because I like to share them so HA

Only one of the characters shown here is actually mine, being the gal. Not the guy that looks like a gal, the actual gal being slung over his shoulder. It's Phoenix Shifter, if you remember her from before. The rest belong to some good friends of mine, so I want to make that very clear.

But I drew these! Yaaay! I'm so proud. And wings are fuuuuuuuun. I love sketching wings.


These are my sad attempt at bat wings. Geier doesn't normally have them; he's just showing off.
These are his babies, his wicked cool swords. Luft (air), Erde (earth), Wasser (water), and Feuer (fire) - one for each element. Later he'll get spirit, but five swords are harder to fit in nicely than four.
This guy's uncle made him wings to prove he could to some other disbelievers. They actually work, but all Lewis wants is to get rid of them.

I'm a Kitten Killer

So, the night before last night, I read about that poor eyeless kitten in Georgia (http://goosestep-lion.livejournal.com/134965.html?view=924981#t924981 - thanks for passing on the word, Sylph). Anyhow, I went to bed, and then I dreamed that Mom and Dad bought me three cute little fuzzy kittens (keep in mind, I would never get a pet in real life, since Dad's allergic to cats and Mommy's got problms with dogs :XD: - so I should have known I was dreaming, but for some silly reason I didn't yet). They were ADORABLE.

Anyhow I was really tired, but one of the kittens needed a bath, so I took the cute little fuzz ball into the bathroom and filled the tub with a few inches of nice warm water. The kitten starts splashing around, having a ball, when I fall asleep because I'm so exhausted. Next thing I know I'm jerking up and there's this tiny black kitten skeleton soaking in the water. A SKELETON.

Now I'm perfectly traumatized and come running out into the living room screaming "I killed it! I killed it!" and yelling that we had to return the other two before I killed them too. I was crying and panicked and confused. And then my parents got divorced (another thing that's never happening; they PROMISED. Even if they hadn't - Mom and Dad love each other SO MUCH. I see that every day, even more every year. They take such good care of one another and they're a team in everything they decide) and I was really irked at them for doing that. And then I went through this weird trial, and there was this drunk guy going through it too (he was a REAL bum and a lowlife and a jerk, too) and then mom and dad were getting remarried, and then it had all been some illusion (except the kitten), but they were having a ceremony anyway, and then the end of time came, and there was cake…

It was a weird dream.

But I don't think I'm ever getting over that poor little kitten. :cry:

To Be or Not to Be

To Be or Not to Be

It’s such a darn famous quote. I can’t count all the times I’ve heard it or a reference to it. Trouble is I don’t even really know what it means. See, it’s not like we have a choice. You’re pretty much stuck ‘being’, as Miss Dorothy Parker pointed out:

Razors pain you;
Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you;
And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren't lawful;
Nooses give;
Gas smells awful;
You might as well live.

But back on topic. You’re stuck being. The question isn’t whether or not to continue existing in my opinion, because no matter how horrible the world gets you always have a chance if you are only alive. I’ve nothing against Shakespeare; in fact I rather respect him. He was a great comedian and a good writer in his time. But when it comes to me, the question is not ‘yes or no’, but what. What should you be, that is the question!

Every day, every minute of our lives is a choice. Who am I going to be? What am I going to be? What we are is the choices we make, nothing more, nothing less. I choose to snap at my family, I choose to explain myself and apologize later. I choose to write, to create and to practice my art, because an artist is something I want to become. I choose to try when it comes to my sister, to fight for her, because our relationship means the world to me. I choose to be there for my brothers, even after they throw fits and scream, because they’re gosh darn cute and so very, very sweet. I choose to be who I am, because whatever someone thinks or what they say or how they feel, it’s their actions that define them in the light of history. It’s what they do with themselves that should make you decide whether or not to bother.

Everyone has excuses, and near everyone deserves pity and love for one reason or another. That doesn’t make what they choose to do any better; only more understandable. I’ve had the luck to grow up in a world that loves me, with people who have chosen to devote their lives to myself and my siblings with the best out of their circumstances. I won’t lie and say that hasn’t shaped me in who I am, and I would be a very different person having lived a different life. But even then, there is always a choice. I could choose 'to be' whatever the heck I want, any day, right now. It wouldn’t be easy, and it isn’t, but the more we chose the more those choices shape us, the easier they are to make. That choice is one we all decide every day, every second: Who am I going to be?

My Halloween Costume '10

I was attempting to get all decked up for Halloween as a demon/psycho-ologist/sinister psychologist/Lyla Alden with the devil horns she should have been born with, and I think I came pretty darn close. This costume was a BLAST.

Here's what I was going for:

...And here's what my costume ended up looking like.

I'm rather proud!

Red Lips

I use burny lipstick yesterday, the kind that stings and stains your lips, because it looked just perfect for the character I was playing that Halloween. But it WON'T COME OFF. It's really weird, heheh, because I hardly ever wear makeup at all, and now I'm walking around with these bright red lips and no mascara or anything XD

I promise, pics are coming - pics of Dear Sister, myself, and Brothers 1&2. Before the end of the year at the latest.

Happy Halloween!

EDIT: GAH! Due to blogger craziness, the pictures and the text are totally out of sink. Each bit of text has a description, however, so you should be fine if you read and look carefully. Read on!
----

Yippy! It’s the Day of the Dead, All Hallow’s Eve, that special day where people buy candy just to give it away. It’s like Christmas, only sweets instead of presents, and people give to strangers rather than those they know just to let kids have a good time. I think it’s a touching holiday, and a real fun one too, with all those fabulous costumes. I love picking them out and putting them together; it’s such a blast.

Since this year I won't be doing much for this special day, I thought I should post some dress-up memorabilia. I plan to be a Psycho-Ologist - or a Sinister Psychologist, or Lyla Alden, if you remember me ranting on her - this year, but you probably won't see pics until tomorrow. To tie you over, and for my own nostalgia's sake, here's every other year I ever dressed up:



Halloween, 1999, Dear Sister and I. I think we're supposed to be Barney and a Bumble bee, but who knows? The masks kind of throw me off.




Halloween 2003, Dear Sister as Alice in Wonderland and myself Super Man! Yippy!

A vampress and a mummy. Dear Sister's costume rocked this year, being 2004.

I went as a vampire for the second and last time, Dear Sister as a ghost. Isn't the blood a brilliant touch? And while I love sissy's hood, it's her killer expression that makes me want to drop dead. This is 2005.

Brother1's first time dressing up! At a year old, I believe, this is him as Super Baby. Dear Sister and I had AWESOME costumes this time around (we scared poor little kids on accident, they were so cool); me as a Ghost Bride, and she as a vampire in 2006. We switched our costumes from the last year, if you note.

Though I looked great as Medusa, the monster from Greek Mythology, getting the snakes out of my hair was a brutal, brutal memory I won't ever forget. But isn't Dear Sister just the cutest li'l witch you ever did see? She comes with a bumble bee, too!

You long-time readers should remember this one! My first Halloween on blogger, 2008, when I went as a Harpy (not a blackbird), again from Greek Mythology. Everyone else had chicken pox at the time (though I was soon to follow), so I was the only one who dressed up this time around.

This year ROCKED. Brother1 as Indiana Jones, myself as Anna Bolena, or Anne Boleyn, or Nan Bullen, Queen of England and my personal hero, Daddy as a Man in Black, Mommy as Donna Noble from Doctor Who, and Dear Sister as a Genie. Awesome, eh?

Myself, as Cinderella, last Halloween at 2009. This costume came out beautifully, I think, and that dress is one of my favorites.

That's it, I guess. Thanks for stopping by and reading - happy, happy, Halloween!