Death, Dumplings, and the Woes of Terajima Ryoko.

So this guy I used to lift weights with, Mason, was hit by a bus, yesterday.It killed him, and because the News Team here works in backass nowhere, there's been a huge uproar over it.Perhaps it'll take people's minds of the Mosque?
I didn't know him well, but he liked my labcoat, and he seemed like an okay, if not loud, person. I felt kind of guilty because everyone was in a grieving fit and here I am, popping into the gym to lift still.

I think Paul might have taken offense to that.

On the other side of the moon, though, I made some leek dumplings when I got home. They were delicious. I served them up with a sauce made from rice vinegar (which I've had a bottle of for about a year now, but no excuse to much of) soy-sauce, and chili-peppers. It was pretty nice. Moreover, none of them burst when I steamed them up, so when I fried them up to give them that chewy texture everyone likes, leek-bits weren't swimming around the pan.













Also, I got into a discussion about why I always take the Big Stupid Hammer (B.S.H) route in Vidya. The answer is because they always get dealt the crappy hand, on the idea of fairness. Do you know why Kite, the main character of .hack//, uses knives and not Terajima Ryoko's Axe? Because knives swing faster, and late-game, when you have a powerful knife, that makes Kite a key member of the Party for his ability to hit 9999's in six-chain combos, as opposed to Terijima, who will hit a lone 9999 (perhaps earlier in the game than Kite, mind you.) at the speed of a snail's brisk jog...
Game Damage is usually limited to 9999 to prevent a group of people swinging Hammers to simply all swing at once at a really big target, and kill it instantly' at the same time, the ability to hit beyond the 9999 mark, which their faster comrades will reach in due time, is the only thing that limits the Hammer User's effectiveness. Perhaps if that lone Hammer hit for 10,200 instead of 9999, more people would use them...

Such are the woes of Terajima Ryoko.

The Twenty-Somethingth Anniversary of Oppenheimer's Child

Happy Birthday, you know who you are.

I know I'm belated, and I'm sorry.

Hope your shift at work doesn't spoil your festivities.

Keeping it short, because my belly's grumbling.

Had a bizarre dream.

Dez was walking in a field in the opposite direction as me. Traffic was speeding through the grass, and I was almost run-over. I had a blanket on my shoulders, and I shared it with her, and a friend of hers so that we could keep warm. We arrived at a community center where we found everything was in shambles, and zombified. We got onto a bus to leave the area, but eventually came to a stop where in I left to coax some other people inside.

Yue, a wandering merchant, was outside, arguing with a military guy who had a surgical mask stretched over his face. She refused to come in, and I think a fleeing car upturned the bus by hitting it. I woke up abruptly.

As-Salaam Alaikum.

Wa Alaikum As-Salaam.

There has been an uproar of deep-seated prejudice in the town I live in over the request to construct a Mosque across from a small park. I'd mentioned it to my family, and they seemed rather steady on the matter:

My Father made no bones about disliking Muslims.
My Sister said that the people attending are doomed to Hell.
My Mother told my sister she was wrong, but said she wouldn't go with me if I decided to visit the Mosque for prayer.

I've decided that, when the Mosque is open, I'd like to attend a prayer there, and perhaps see if I may purchase a small Qu'ran as is customarily for sale and hand-out at a lot of Churches. I've been struck with a healthy interest, and my inhibitions have been very few after praying outside Iglesia de Dios. Perhaps I'll see what the Imam or Mullah has to say of my life, and how I can better lead it. And if nothing? I can applaud their efforts to hold Islam strong in a community that is misinformed and uneducated on the Islamic Faith by offering to be lead in prayer.

I'm nervous - perhaps I will offend the Imam with my unfamiliarity?
I can only home he will not bare down upon me for being foreign to it.

I went out to eat at a small Chinese restaurant called "Chu's", which is kind of amusing. I ate quite a bit of Kimchee and Mushrooms. It was nice to have something other than instant noodles or a sandwich. I keep my fortune cookies and adhere quite sternly to them - today's is: "You are an artistic person - let your colors show", with the Lucky Numbers 14, 16, 19, 37, 47, and 49.

It feels good to be able to relax.
To be able to be at ease.

I've not been writing many postcards, forgive me for being so preoccupied.

Bathrobes, Vidya, and Tension.

I was at the Gym today, when I started the other lifters on the topic of bathrobes. Sparrow owns this big, poofy bathrobe. Like, Looks Like an Angel's Toga big and poofy. If he smoked a pipe, or sat across a grand fireplace in it, it'd be the ultimate deal-sealer for awesome. We got rolling with the topic, just sitting there, going on about materials, why you'd wear one, and even some neat childhood stuff from not-just-me.

I wish I had more conversations like that. Most of the time, it's just people grunting and lifting metal, though.

Awhile back, though? We got this guy named Teriq started on Black Hole Theory. I was astonished - you don't expect a sweaty lifter to explain Schwarzchild Radius to you. I actually clapped for him, and then we sat back, laughing at the term, "Spaghettification", which is a recognized scientific term for when objects seem to stretch infinately as they pass the event horizon of a black hole. We both agreed it to be "The George Bush of Space Terms".

I miss punching the crap out people in Fallout. Someday, doctorly as I hope to be, and regardless of the brutal sciences described earlier, I'd love to pick New Vegas up after all its hype's died off, and fisticuff the daylights out of Nevada.

I've gotten the first offer on my computer - a nice $300. I'm pretty certain I'm going to take it, because you just don't get offers like that, and it ups my current funding to $450, which is nice for having just payed out the nose for a few birthdays. Hello, New York Hotels. I feel good, especially, because $300 is the price-tag on a Yugo I saw for sale awhile back - my experience driving is almost non-existant and I'm a hazard on the road, but I'd love to own a terrible crappy car, someday. Like a Trabant.

Also, embarrassing and overly-open as it is, I finally got to squeeze in some "relief" today. I have been essentially sleeping when I get home and take care of dinner, which has been a reoccuring statement and running problem, lately, because people play very loud music at 9:00 PM - 11:00 PM here, with the addition of drunken company in my home as of late. I've been getting pent-up with my sleep-early-prioritizing, and trying to ignore the fact that every flirty remark I get makes me excited enough to please several sailors and a fraternity ward, but finally, I've gotten to square it away, and now I'm almost certain I'll sleep a little easier without grinding my sheets in desperation...

In a blunt change of topic, I've been having bizarre dreams. In almost all of them, I'm savagely beaten, and then left to ponder what to do. I had one where someone who had these brass knuckles on just punched the daylights out of me. (Probably Nevada, getting revenge in my dreamscapes.) I don't remember why, but I remember they had those ones with the big, square lettering, so they look sort of like a set of rings? And they had something written on them, but I couldn't read it very well, because after they punched me, the imprints on my skin were mirrored...

I didn't know what to do - It was like that one where the woman smashed my bones with the shotgun's stock, I just kind of sat back and contemplated the possible ways of getting treatment, or if I'd even broken anything at all.

Someday, a dashing Nurse's Cap will treat me of all my ailments, and cherry blossoms will breeze by, too. I know these dreams are pure fiction, so long as Doctor Pyonta is on my side.

\ | /

# #

///

Hurried, Hurried Writing.

Less an entry, and more of a headspill.
Just going to say a bunch, before I bail.

The Demonic Harem beneath Jerhyn's palace in Diablo II frightened me - I was about ten or so when I picked it up. If this track played during your trek through that level, I think I would have been so unsettled that I'd have quit playing.

I've been fantasizing over odd milk-products, like Kumis, Kefir and Soy-Milk.
I want to try some.
Got to pick up Coca-Cola sometime, too. I want to drink one everytime I get out of the shower.

Fell far behind in my College Government, after missing a few pages on Ex-Post Facto Law.

The weather sudden climbed a metric bunch of degrees. It's really uncomfortable to go outside unless it's morning. Did we get a warm front from Canada? No way, I don't believe it.

Got to write an amusing, rhyming Doctor Suess-style paper in request for Scholarship money. We'll see how it goes. Falling behind with these, too.

Starting to worry Matt Griffith with my odd sleeping habits. He doesn't understand that an extra two hours every morning has been given to me, and I'm Still rushed.

What do you get when you cross Kogasa with Wriggle?
A scarab. (Go on, say it aloud.)

What do you get when you cross Ichirin with Wriggle?
A praying mantis.

I suppose Utsuho and Wriggle make a Radroach, too.

No amusing story or insightful comment with today's doodle.
It's a quicky.

Daylight Savings Time.

So Daylight Savings Time has come around, once again, and I love it. Without adjusting my clock, it allows me to wake up at 5:00, while technically waking up at 4:00.

This leaves me two hours to tape up my broken work-clothes, paint on old sheets, shower, finalize reports for College Government, find out why my headscarf isn't fitting as snugly as I'd like, reinstall my Paint tools, draw for the Blog again, make coffee, make tea, make breakfast, and such.
This sense of extra time was momentarily cut short, today, when I realized the bottom lock to my home is broken, and spent two hours looking for a way to get indoors before it got dark -- dark is a dangerous time of day.

Applying for Scholarships is proving to be a bit more of a task than I've anticipated.
I've done eight and I need to reach a quota of twenty. This is particularly frustrating when the councillor I was fowarded to has no time to handle my petty requests for an opportunity to boil-down Iona College, which has proved to be a bit sketchy with its details. I have to leave a big, drawn-out "Uhhh..." anytime an application asks for the price tag on my post-secondary education, and they're piling up fast in my portfolio...

What's worse is, the Councillor is proving to be a bit unprofessional. She only today told me, after the put-together of my portfolio, that I need to hold the entirety of it together solely with paperclips, or the schoolboard will not handle it. I told her I'd already used staples, and she waved me off, saying I need to just reprint the forms elsewhere. I told her it was a big inconvenience, with my printer being low on Ink, as well as theirs, and that printing the thirty papers gathered so far would cost me a few slim dollars at the local library. I asked her why the information was so last-minute.

She said, "We'd forgotten."

"We'd forgotten"?
That doesn't work for me, when you make me sign a legal document to create this portfolio.

...I'm making it seem much more epic than it was, I'm really just miffed that my portfolio's been tossed into a recycle-bin until I can get to the public library...

In closing, now that I can use Paint again, I've drawn you this peppergun.
I was trying to decide why it's my favorite weapon to use in non-lethal takedowns for Deus Ex, when I suddenly imagined spraying Unzan into someone's face like Pepperspray, or throwing a Tear Gas Grenade, and having Unzan fill the room like, "Don't mind me - don't want to be a burden", while corrupt Secret Police cough and wheeze.

It seemed like a good idea at 4:00 AM.

Why I'd Like to be a Doctor.

Up until this point in my life, I'd found myself questioning why I wanted to be a doctor. I'd managed to feel-out a few of it's origins in a few things when I was small - I was always told that Medicine is the greatest career, aside from Archetecture, that I could pursue. I was kind of eager to live as a traveller when I was eight or so...

I read about the Amazon and places like it, and I decided I wanted to trek through there, and see animals nobody's heard of, and eat fruits you won't find in a supermarket...

When I grew older, this changed to the Former USSR, and I imagined admiring the austere skylines of Kremlin, or watching traditional welcoming dances in Croatia.

Then, I read the acclaimed Copypasta, "Damaged Goods".
It's a journal of questionable authenticity in which an anonymous Nurse somewhere around Washington lobbies for the custody of a young girl he'd come into the care of while working in the field of geriatric care.

Supposedly, he's since adopted her and vanished from the web as a father, the last entry stating she's fond of video-games and he's found himself very busy.

I spent three days reading that. One sitting, no less.
I was so inspired by it that I saved it all, lest I ever forget it inspired me...

It's easy to attribute your choice in careers to your parents, or from things you read when you were fourteen. It's very easy to play it aloof, and say you don't have any input beyond that, but I stopped and I thought...

There was a moment I've yet to forget. I was visiting extended family in Oklahoma - I've never been fond of the company of my Grandparents on either side, so I went to sleep at my Cousin, Jarad's. Jarad's father, Charlie Bly, is really fond of me, and I like him because he's so old and kind.

I had been watching Jarad planning to purchase a lizard, and parakeet, and playing games, and I remember I'd cleaned his room, which kind of embarrassed him. Suddenly, it was 3:00 AM. He went into the sun-room, because Charlie Bly is kind of wealthy, and he went to sleep on the Sofa. I was sitting there by him while he slept - he left the television on, and the video to "Handlebars" came on.

That was really profound. I didn't know why it was, at the time, I just new that it defibrilated something in me, and that the part was working, and has always, since. I'd kind of left it latent, knowing that it was working, but not really knowing what it did or why it was there - Y'know, kind of like your appendix or your tonsils.

I was playing Deus Ex earlier. I exclusively use Police Batons and Pepper-Spray to handle people who'd love to kill me...

Then, it hit me.

Nukes, Bombs, Tanks, Anti-Tank Rifles, Regular Rifles, Handguns, Handcannons, Hands.

Some of the earliest human skeletons found have arrowheads in them.

We're really creative at destroying eachother.
It kind of dictates politics - it determines which 'Superpowers' are worth negotiating with.
We're poised to blow a nation up, from the Cold War, and that's why we're likely having such a difficult time in the Middle East, where we're trying to keep civilian casualities down.

The battlefield is a parade of human ingenuity.
Isn't it a shame that it's so brilliant?

$1,600,000,000,000 is spent in Military Products globally, not counting research.

We've manufactured enough explosives destroy the world four times over.

That's a brutal, brutal science.
Terrifying statistics.

I don't want to be part of it.
I'd rather be the other portion of innovation.
I'd like to help people, not because I like people, but because I'd rather not hurt them. I feel gratified when someone doesn't feel worse because I was around to say, "My Journal of Medicine says to do this", or "This is why you're feeling like this". I want to impliment the ingenuities that keep people alive, that save lives.

Suddenly, I don't give a damned if Medicine is Socialized.
I just want to know people will feel better because I've given them my time.
I don't know if I could be a surgeon...
It's suddenly something to look into.

Today's picture is from Pyonta. It is a step by step guide to drawing your very own aspiring doctor.

The Profane and The Profound.

Organized Religion is an oxymoron. Even in the Religious Texts in which you read about them, they misunderstand some divine proverb, or begin practicing Dogmatics with little concern for such banal matters as "Morality". Organized Religion is any respectable Demagogue's personal outlet, provided they have the qualifications to preach. A licence to preach - can you imagine such a thing? It's out there. Essentially, that means if you adhere to a curriculum or rubric long enough? You can wind up behind a podium with an eager-to-please crowd on the opposite side, that applauds to whatever you say as it believes you're on a higher spiritual plane than it.

As such, I've never been a very "religious" person in the traditional sense.
Rather, I have always believed in the existence of the "Profane" and the "Profound".

The "Profane", whenever used in a non-secular sense, has come to mean "Dealing with Worldly Matters", but has this sort of negative connotation. Fortunately, I've read some Ayn Rand, and I know all too well that this is not the case. I can stand to be the Man who Loved the Earth. I love living - without tea, lovely people, cooking, music, culture, myself... Well, actually, just imagine all that were gone.
Isn't it such an empty thing?
A common theme of "Spirituality" is the seperation of the flesh from such Wordly Things.
And why?
We're told that if we do not enjoy them in this life, we'll enjoy them tenfold in the next, or be treated to something better, or reincarnated as someone who can enjoy such things.

I disagree.

I've been given access to these things, and I refuse to let them gather dust. This is a world for me to enjoy, and I will cater to my own senses. I will cater to the senses of others, because I love them, and I will do so shamelessly. I am, for all extents and purposes, a very "profane" person. I even love the misfortunes of life, for I can fix my mistakes and I can relish the flavor of loss amongst the people who will be beside me when it comes to me.

But let us talk, next, about the profound.
Were I to take the place of a presumed Demagogue at a Pulpit to spout off the prior discussion of the profound, people would be outraged. They would say that I'm a heathen or something of the sort, and that all my earthly pleasures exist beyond the world in a "higher" sense, in some promised Heaven or Samsara.

But, every so often, you will come across one of these people doing something extraordinary. A Buddhist, stone-faced, as he burns alive without regrets at a streetcorner to protest injustice. Templars who are wrongly murdered, whos executioners are plagued by misfortune soon-after. People somehow blessed with a moment of super-human strength, or lucky beyond luck and seemingly favored by some higher entity.

I cannot explain these things, and for that reason, I would simply rather acknowledge them. There exists something higher, I believe, and I don't exactly know what it is. I don't know if there is an "Afterlife", but I know there is something higher in this world than itself. Beautiful flowers can grow out of desperation, faith, plea and need.

I don't neccesarily like the idea of attaching a name, or people, or religion to any of it. I'd rather just see it, and know it exists in some form or another, and pay my respect to whatever it calls itself by living my life in the "Good" that seems to warrant it.

I think that's just kind of how I live.
I love the religiously-condemned Earth - Myself, Friends, Senses, Places, Foods, Weather, Failure - all of it. And I do it all carrying a moral compass, for I know that a miracle may be needed someday, and people are better off for having met you if you help them.

I'd pray outside an Icon of Our Lady of Guadalupe in the Iglesia de Dios just as soon as I would pray at a Buddhist Monestary, were one here. It's not so much "Religious" as it is "Profound". I wish my friends to be auspicious, and inspired, and lucky - I will speak my desire for it in a place where one is supposed to.

I can't quite word it well - I was raised to believe that one shouldn't walk around daring serial killers and monsters to whisk you away, because the more you talk about things, the more-real they become. I think that's how prayer is - Speak it, so that it may become real.

...Rereading some of this, it doesn't exactly look professional, but I've just climbed out of bed, and taken my second dose of super-antibiotic...Excuse it, if you will.

The antibiotic doesn't seem to be working very well - There's an appointment to size-up my head for tubes soon.

PATHAKAsleep.

So, my headscarf has arrived. I've been wearing it for a solid three days or so. It's very comfortable because it's warm when it's cold, and cold when it's warm. I've begun my job-hunt, and once again, I'm making liberal use of my Inside Sources. Ever better, this time around? I've found a Writing Portion. They wouldn't let me paste the same resume I've been whoring to Scholarship Committees and Colleges into their submit-box, so I wrote this short, to the point deal about my qualifications. I think it's much better than telling them I want to be a Doctor, and my chest is ablaze with manly, manly lovin'. Speaking of chests, or rather torsos, I've also decided to work on my abs. There was a fashion magazine lying about, and I slit out a "Guide to Killer Abs" with the utility knife I carry for opening boxees. Whether following these instructions leave my midsection looking more like a Serial Killer's or Yuugi's has yet to be determined. I've been sleeping an absurd amount, too. Like, I take a nap before I sleep? And then I go to bed. I catch more Z's than Sanae does V.D.s. My bed is the hardest-working thing in my home. Before I sleep, though, I play the Omega Boost soundtrack. When I was eight or so, I was a huge fan of Eiffel 65, and I remember my parents buying me their album for my birthday, as Torrenting and such had not yet really struck-out for gold, yet. Have you ever heard "My Console" by them? Essentially, it was the Playstation-Anthem. I had played all the games he'd sung about in the song, with the exception of Omega Boost. I never forgot that, and last Saturday, I was sitting here thinking, "...You know, I don't even know what the hell Omega Boost is." I looked it up, and found it to be a widly praised Macross-Style Giant Robot Game. Apparently, it had a great soundtrack, which has become something of a collector's item. With my technologies a decade in the making, I torrented the soundtrack, and I've been listening to it throughout my day. "PATHAKA" has the coolest title, but "SPARK OF DRUM" and "ATTACK IN WAVES" are probably the best tracks on the album. In closing, while catching a ride from Biomed to West Haverill, a man fell asleep on me. It was kind of nice - I know a lot of people would be kind of put-off or angry if a stranger fell asleep on them, but he wasn't a drunk or anything. Just lying there with his Coke-Bottle Glasses, snoring on my jacket. Someone I presumed a friend of his, a little embarrassed, nudged me to wake him after thirty minutes or so, and he pressed his glasses down and thanked me for getting him up at his stop. I'm kind of hoping to treat a friend or two to that snooze-worthy shoulder. Mark me down as fond of Public Transportation. Sometimes, you meet neat people that way.

Happy Halloween.

Somewhere, Chandra's already wolfing-down her gummies...

I spent last night watching Reservoir Dogs while my sister hung out with some fifteen people in the house. I was thankful that the few who had migrated from her little congregation to sit around me were kind of squeemish, and left when Mister Blonde lops Nash's ear off, and douses 'em in Gasoline.

Truth be told, though, Nice Guy Eddie was one of my favorites. As for everyone else, I'm tied between Mister Orange and Mister Pink...

"Wait, wait. Why do I have to be Mister Pink?"
"Because you're a Faggot."
"No way - can't we pick our own colors?"
"No - tried that before. I don't want four guys arguing over who gets to be Mister Black, and nobody backing down because they don't know eachother."
"...Can't I be Mister Purple? Mister Purple sounds good."
"Look, just shut up."
"That's easy for you to say! You're Mister White, you have a cool-sounding name!"
"...Mister Purple is a different guy, in a different mission. You're Mister Pink."

Oh man, and Nice Guy Eddie...

"Vick, you sick bastard! You just tried to fuck me in my Father's Office!"
"...You wish."
"Don't get me wrong, Vick, I like you, but I just don't think of you that way."
"Look - if I were a butt-cowboy? I wouldn't throw you to my posse."
"'Course not! You'd keep me for yourself! I know how it is - four years fucking punks up the ass and you can appreciate a cut of prime rib..."
"...I might break you in, Nice Guy...But you can be my dog's bitch."

I loved those awkward exchanges between everyone.

As opposed to last year's Halloween, where Godfather Mike took everyone out to get plastered, and I played Venetian Snares out the window while pretending to be a miner, I've prepared something more than an impromptu costume this year.



























For the first time in Cobuniji's History, a picture of your host.
Happy Halloween, readers.
Buddha Loves you.
Jesus Saves.

"Sorry, Wrong Number".

Okay, it looks good, the fact you have CCleaner.
Thanks, it came with the computer, or at least, I think it did.
Have you used it before?
Yes - it's really reliable stuff.
What about defragging the hard drive? My
I'm still rather fond of Defraggler - could I run it? It might optimize a bit worse than MyDefrag, but sure. I wanna
check some stuff, still, in CCleaner.
Understood. Feel free.
I suggest limiting internet explorer's cache to like, 50MB. You rarely if ever need more than that.
Say - real fast:
How was your day? I've been meaning to ask, but I've been a bit tired and slow...I actually forgot my phone-number. These Meds are kicking the crap out me.
Ehhhh. Let'see... I got approached to cyber a bunch of times. Once by some russian dude on Negroserver, which I'm unbanned from now. I got to add mcfool and we talked about Deus Ex, so it's cool.
"Listen, Stalker, I want to feel your ass..."
Not even a chuckle? Damned. Tough crowd. Your edge is off when you're drugged up, nun.
Hoh. Perhaps.
Forty-five minutes? No joke, or is it bullshitting?
It is clearing 140 gigs of space... Holy crap, this craptop has more hard drive space than my heap here. I'm jealous. :
...It was like, $50 on Black Friday last year...I've been keeping it under my bed, saving it for when I go to college, so I don't have to rent one...
You can rent laptops? Huh. Yeah, they take it out your student fees, but they charge you out the ass for it.
It looks like a small price, but when you consider they're charging you periodically, it really adds up, and they're strongarming you for every bill so that you can get your assignments donne.
Yeah, it makes sense to make you want to make the most of your time, but it still doesn't change the fact that college time still seems to be party time.
Have you gotten my soap yet...? I'm eager for that to get there already.
No, but I did get the cats everywhere postcard yesterday.
I seriously imagine your house like that, sometimes...
I only have two cats.
Still, there was petfood beneath your...
...Nevermind.
I know what you mean, but that's where we keep the dog's dishes. To distract it before it eats the used pads from the bathroom garbage.
...I still have those pictures. They're good pictures.
I may have played too much fdghlsdfjsdfh deus ex recently if I hear Denton's voice in that.
I don't even know what to say to that. I'm just smiling, but I think that's bad...
It depends on what you think J.C. Denton is like.
A guido with super-bots and a police badge.
Not quite. He's like Neo without the faggotry and scrawny.
You know, I loved The Matrix when I was eight. I could sit back and enjoy that shit for hours, but I recently saw it was airing on late night TV, and rewatched the first two?
Dear God, they were awful.
I still like the first one. When it splits into three, you know it's crap and you should abandon any hope of it ever being good again.
Sounds just like 4chan.
I admit to checking /v/ now again due to Fistbeard.
Say, my tea's done give me a second. I'm
gIsure. Giving you free reign.
I've returned with tea. And I have to go. I downloaded the latest drivers. I think they'll do you a whole lot of good and MAYBE make something or other playable. I'll be back in... half an hour, probably.
Hey, thanks for everything, Chief.
It means a lot, because I tried my hand at it and failed miserably to find new drivers.
I guess Intel didn't have any on their site?
I thought John had them on a disc, even.
Oh.. It looks like they're the same. Fff... well... I dunno. I still gotta do stuff
Thanks for everything, though.
I feel bad, because the best I can do is wait for you to get soap, and feel rewarded in the slightest.
I wanna get you on TF2 even a little somehow. We'll have to figure tht out.
I wanna trade you shit. I'll see what I can do. ASAP. The 2010 halloween stuff gjust got lined up. What is it? Mann Manor. Apparently, random free stuff on the halloween version.
fUCK YmYMy capslock is right next to my shift, and my keys are tiny...
Thanks for everything, go take care of what you need to.

In Which I Celebrate Birthdays, and Dream of Gifts.

Today's a two-pronged affair. Sparrow's birthday is today, but so is my mother's. My father has a terrible habit of bringing fruit and champagne, and as such, I've decided that I'm going to take my mother out for Sushi - something she enjoys and my father will not eat. We spent the evening discussing what we'll order, and budgeting everything so that it's not a financial issue. After the number-crunching, we got to the fun part: working our heads around our impending delicacies:

We're not ordering the Hatate-roll again. Hatate tastes like her articles.

The New York Roll, in the spirit of where we'll be living, is on the menu - but only perhaps.

Ikura, with it's eyeball-looking caviar, is omitted. It tastes okay, but that texture...

Urchin is never in stock. Ever. I've been trying to order it for months.

I'm considering ordering Yellowtail so I can chant Buri-! Hamachi-!

Straying from the topic of fish, let's talk about birds.
Sparrow's gotten older today as well.
Happy Birthday, stranger. You are adored.

I've send an odd package: Dress-socks, oatmeal soap, a labcoat, a compass.
I don't have as much confidence as I did in it, before I listed it all here.
I really hope that it winds up well-used...

I considered staying home, so I could rest and thoroughly celebrate both birthdays, but I have to evaluate Court Cases for College Government. That seemed so threatening that I didn't want to fall back an inch on it...

Narrowing the scope on myself, I've recently laid-out five dollars to buy a powder blue Shemagh - an Arabic headscarf. I spent the weekend wearing my nun's coif for Halloween, and found it very comfortable, so I reluctantly went out of pocket for something a little more discerning.
I also found a delightful thing - a Rearden Steel keychain.
I was sitting there, staring at it and not knowing if I could ever purchase it, or it's brothers: Wyatt Oil and Danagger Coal.

Some day, I'll buy those. And I'll parade them around like the filthy capitalist I am.

I'll go at my own Pace, because I-Own-A College.

So, I don't have any witty picture, crude depiction or title-related item to chuck in right now, rather, I'm mooching off my school's wireless network to write, because the connection is doubtlessly faster than what I've got at home - I hope to fix that tonight, finally. I know I've said I'd fix it quite a few times, but I just haven't been able to get ahold of the Drivers I need yet - I can't get John to help, but I think I can get someone else. We'll pour over my saved boxes and system requirements and what-not tonight, provided I can kind of strong-arm him into not watching a movie like he usually does in the evenings.

I'm keeping a bunch of educational opportunities open in New York. Pace has a Bachelor's in Nursing, which is relevant to what I'd like to study, but they're largely business and management oriented, so I believe I'd be attending solely for my core-materials, and then Nursing. There's Iona, but their site's a bit convoluted, so I'm kind of toying around with it - I was supposed to have a Counsellor help me navigate through all the ribbon-covered garbage and get down to what they offer and how much it costs, but she kind of cancelled, and now my hands are proverbially tied - I need those statistics before I can start applying for Scholarships, because each and every institution wants to make certain I'm not going to make them pay out the rear to educate me. I hope I can get that taken care of soon - I'll come in after-hours or something. If Iona, which I like because it sounds like "I-Own-A", offers anything more-extensive than Nursing, I think I may tail them more than Pace, but if they're narrowed down to Psychology or something, I'll walk.

I took an ACT not two days ago, and I realized that I had no way of getting home from the Test-Center, so I started walking one direction - it proved for a very interesting evening. Wandering, I found myself in front of the Spanish Church of God, Iglesia de Dios where I paused. I'm not particularly religious, but I decided to pray in front of an Icon of Our Lady of Guadalupe. I prayed for Sparrow, Liam, Aaron and my friends; my ACT Score; and finally for the unfortunate and sickly of the world. That's how it's all stratified in importance for me, kind of. It felt really good, even though it's not the kind of thing I put a lot of stock into. Refreshing.

Hopping out from in front Iglesia de Dios, I walked to this place that had one of those classic-style signs that said, "Vintage Jukebox Display!", and went in. The curator was this hurried woman who apologized for not having turned on her lights. She showed me around, and we talked about one of her displays of Moxie: about how neither of us has tried it, but that it supposedly tastes like root-beer. About how it's the state-beverage of Maine, and how it's really hard to find nowadays.
She also had these odd bottles of some sort of seasoning made here in town once upon a time, called "Sunspot". It was apparently made of horseradish and vinegar - I bet you could strip paint with the stuff; horseradish alone will have you make funny facial expressions as your nostrils flare, but with vinegar, I bet it's sitting on a whole 'nother level.

I left, and continued my inspections of odd stores: Atherson's Furniture Outlet, a local one made of bright blue bricks with a faded sign that proclaimed "Mattresses, Half Price!" had these odd, spindly birds spray-painted where its hedges were, so the graffiti looks like it's peering over them. I also found a condemned "Oratory Club", and an "Industrial Supermarket" in the same shape. I passed the Saint Peter's Lutheran Church, where I saw a child had written "FUCK YOUTHAIS" in the cement - I promptly Holden Caulfield'd.

Passing this big field full of grasshoppers, which was for sale, I wound up at this Auto-Scrapyard, where a guy who looked kind of like a friend of mine told me that I had left town, and that home was way behind me. I turned around, and got directions from a woman who was unloading plastic yard-toys from the bed of a truck for her kids, and then walked home after some bumbling-around.

I've dressed as a Nun for Halloween. It's...I'm not certain.
There was some concern that I might be a gross neckbeard, but when I put on the rosaries, I think I won a bit of attention.
Steve joked that, though he's straight, me in a nun's habit is really cute.
Maybe there's hope for me?
Last year, I was passing out candy while trying to beat Quake 1 in one sitting. This couple seemed offended that I wasn't in costume, so I threw one of my nightshirts into the fireplace, and tossed my suspenders over it, so I could say I was a Miner when people asked what I was.
We never get a lot of people, because our side of the street lacks sidewalks, but I'd like to do something good this year, rather than playing Venetian Snares out my window while pretending to have a costume.

I ran into Jen while buying post-its and notecards. She offered me a job at the local Michael's, and I think I'm going to try and take her up on it. She said I'll be a "Standard Retail Drone", but that I'll be one of two males working there. She proceeded to explain that the only other guy there is "A hipster; one so bad that eventually, the irony will accumulate and he'll die of irony poisoning". Somewhere, Matt's about to crack a joke and tell me I'll fit right in - he loves to tease me about my fondness for bad cars and my duct-tape wallet.

In closing, I was reading about this guy, Tucker Max. He goes out and buys this Megaphone with the sole purpose of being a jerk while waiting for this game to start. Waiting outside a port-a-potty, he surprises this guy who walks out by screaming:

"OH GROSS, YOU JUST USED A PORT-A-POTTY. I THOUGHT YOU'D DO SOMETHING NORMAL, BUT YOU VIOLATED THAT POOR THING. GO BACK IN THERE RIGHT NOW, AND APOLOGIZE."

A kind of portly blonde guy with glasses turns to defend the guy from Tucker, who proceeds to say:

"IF THIS WAS LORD OF THE FLIES, YOU'D ALREADY BE DEAD, BUDDY."

The blonde guy opens his mouth to say something, and Tucker counters before he can, with:

"SILENCE, PIGGY. I HAVE THE CONCH NOW.

I was hopelessly amused by Tucker's douchebaggery.
That's going to be my new remark when people interrupt me, as they often do.
"Silence, Piggy. I have the conch now".

Business Cuts in Triplicate.

So, quite a bit has transpired since I've last written, and that's likely the reason it's taken me so long to put up another update.

There's some discrepancy with Syracuse - it's no longer one-hundred percent solid, because they're attempting to strongarm my father into some rather steep years of service in return for keeping their word and my education. Frankly, they hold all the cards - my Old Man's choices are narrowly eaten down to "Leave" and "Stay Forever", neither of which are particularly appetizing to us.

As such, I've sold my computer, and am in the process of parting with my consoles.
I have a small Laptop purchased last Black Friday - it was bought in anticipation for college, but now, I find it's a much easier way to keep in touch with you all, while still netting a tidy sum by selling all my excess.

Without my computer, some odd things have come into my notice - I can hear my belly grumble in the morning as I have my coffee and sandwich. In the evening, I can hear the traincars sounding their horns. The rain's loud against my window. It's all rather beautiful - like I've been running at half-capacity on my hearing and I've somehow managed to turn it up back to one-hundred.

I'm caring for Paulie. He's an Old English Bulldog that was slated for Euthanasia. He's a little sick since being neutered, but once his meds wear off and he heals-up, he'll be running around and evermore attractive to adoptees, who relish the opportunity to skip-out on paying for the neutering themselves. The medication hasn't been particularly kind to him - he has been emptying his belly frequently, but I'm keeping him stocked on food and water. He'll be better, God willing, soon.

A friend's birthday is just around the corner - I've prepared them a small box filled with a compass, lovely socks, and a neatly folded labcoat. I've been a little Glass-Half-Empty as of late, so I suddenly got the idea to buy several other oddities. I've mailed two dear friends soap - I don't particularly know why. I'm extremely excited to see how a Sunflower-Scented bar goes over; the entire brick of it smells sweet and dusty, like sugared sawdust or something.

I've been pouring over the designs for a crater-terraced manor of sorts.
I've meticulously drawn-out a blueprint of sorts for it, in anticipation of the day I get to join Kogasa and Parsee for a bit of Minecraft. The idea of the Floating Island is proving to be frustrating, after several repetitions and the laying of the island portion. My inspiration for the Manor came from these pictures - I'm currently in the process of scaling everything, and drawing out small blueprints for some of the trickier parts:

















I'd also like to include some Ladder-and-Beam centric stuff, and perhaps a windmill, for the sake of Ico, who's faint and somber style was very much something I loved.
This is all a bit premature though - I don't actually have a connection stable enough to play Minecraft as of yet, but I'm working on it - I believe I need a registry CD, which I may have to bum off John.

I've been on a Russia-kick thanks to Hjalmar. Proshanie Slavyanki and Krokodil Gena have been looping within my room for days, muted and quiet behind the sound of whatever is going on outside. Another thing that's been heavily-present in my room is the ideas of this speaker I heard last Sunday: he was sort of advocating Socialism on a Person-to-Person level. He preached that the world rotates on an "axis of violence" - the threat of being hurt or impovrished if you do something wrong keeps society in work - he painted the idea of this utopian society where nobody is ever threatened because everyone is forgiving of eachother and considers eachother equal. Man is a Selfish Creature, and I know it can't really happen - Utopia literally means "Not-a-Place" for a reason - but I think can make the world a better place if I erase the lines I've drawn between "Me" and "Them", so to speak.

College Aptitude testing, as well as the shipping-out of the aforementioned birthday gift is scheduled for the twenty-third. Or maybe the day before. I don't know - Isn't the twenty-third a Sunday? Also, there's the matter of Chandra - If I've not mentioned her, Chandra is the young niece of Dez, a friend of mine. Chandra is picked on by her sisters, and more or less everyone else, because she lost her front teeth and now "looks like Gollum", as Dez eloquently put it. She's also kind of an odd duck.

I looked like that when I was small, though, and I was certainly picked on.
For the past year or two, I've been giving Chandra a gift every Holiday; just small things - an Easter Bunny, a Valentine, a little Christmas gift, those sorts of things. She doesn't know me, personally, but apparently I'm this big, dashing secret hero to her. Dez said, "She asked me what you were like - I told her you wear blazers every day and you're way too old for her". I laughed. Worried that it may be the last holiday-gift I really get to spoil her with before Christmas or a Moving truck, I boxed up some gummy-bears and spooky jelly-eyes for her. I really took the time to wrap it up and even put a nice bow on it. With all these gifts being sent, I'd like to think I'm doing them justice when I wrap them, even if it's just newspaper...

We'll see if she writes me a cute farewell letter or something.
I've kept the two little letters she's written back to me tacked on my wall for the longest time.

My Weeklong Motivator.

Still feeling really sick.
It's also very late.
These are the motivators for my week.




















Also, I took this picture: My frame was recently broken by my cat, so I put my corkboard up.

Goodnight.

The Happy Backpacker.

There once a man who decided he would climb to the summit of a large mountain, so that he could fish from its peak.

Everyday, he climbs little by little, wondering if there's water up top.

He squashes down his hat and presumes with a smile.

Rotgut.

YOU'RE. MINE.

I'm home ill today.
I ate some food that had been baking on the roof in the sun for a day, the day after.
I followed it up with three-days-ago's coffee.
Need I explain?

Anyways, there's been a long going on, actually.
I'm preparing to take my ACTs again, which, provided I get around a thirty, will qualify me for "Bright-Flight", which I believe is only valid here in Missouri, but can nonetheless be listed on a College Application. It essentially allows me to attend free (Some more.)

I watch a huge tournament-game of Heroes of Newearth with a friend.
Devourer was definitely my favorite, though the guy playing him didn't build him well in the beginning and thus, didn't have money for items, and subsequently sucked horribly throughout the game. Even the commentators were complaining about him.

I have a tendency to like characters like that - the ones that you'd be better off not playing unless you know what you're doing? - only I never do, so I'm pretty hapless. But it's still fun because I get to be who I like, and I learn new tricks the whole time spent. I'm a Misao when it comes to games.

I got two nice lab-coats. One's for a friend.
They're very nice because they're so obnoxiously white.
I have a nicer, more-durable one, now, too, though they gave me a huge one...

Also, I burned-down my Palanquin Ship.
I'll be remaking it in Multiplayer, I think, out in the sea. This time, I'll put a huge hole in the bottom to pop in from under, and make it a bit deeper in the water, so it's not towering on the sea, hull and all.

I watched Blazing Saddles with Aaron a ways back?
Dear God.
I watched it when I was eight and didn't understand a lick of it,
now I'm laughing my ass off daily as I sing "I'm so Tired".
Are you in Showbiz, Tex-Ma'am? No? Then get your damned feet off my stage!

That said, I also slept in, and only caught the end-match of a Wrestling Pay-per-View that Utsuho was passing around. It would seem it was one of those "Good day to be a Heel" matches, because all the Bad-Guys won. It'll change, though. Revenge is always around the corner with those things, because if the crowds are pissed-off, then they don't cheer.

In closing, I've found this:














I'm not exactly sure what it is, but it's really cute, if you ask me.
Looks like a weird paper doll in an airport?
I wonder who took it, and what it means?

Back and Forth.

I got a letter from the University of Saskatchewan in the mail.














Napoleon was happy for me, too.

Back and forth. That's right, side to side.
Let's start advertisin' and make some real money.

There are Eleven Minutes until 9:00 PM.

And I've done nothing but get home, write letters, and make a few calls.

Dreams are proving to be kind of a repeating thing as I'm evermore busy. I've had a dream where I was fairly plastered with Liam who was getting embarrassed as I Just One More'd to the Bartender. If I remember correctly, I ordered a Martini, a White Russian, a Scotch-and-Coke, and some other crap, too that I can't recall. The whole time, I was slurring and explaining to my rather annoyed friend, why I would order them: "Holden Caulfield always orders Scotch and Coke!", "Ed from Do No Harm ordered a Martini even though he hates them to fit a disguise!"

I remember he just kind of Haha, Yeah'd because in my dream I was getting increasingly stupid and incoherent.

...This is why I'll likely never be an alcoholic.
I'm far too afraid of losing my ability to have an intelligent conversation.

I hate making posts without doodles, so I half-assed this thing.
I wanted to make it like Flat Stanley, but then I got tired...

Twelve cups of coffee and ninety-four ounces of water today.

"Ugh".

Screeching Halt.

Some stuff quickly began to bother me and I can't sleep, so I feel obliged to address it, or something.

So, there's this guy. He more or less climbs into Old World Bhutan and decides to build all sorts of educational facilities there with hard-earned and excruciatingly budgeted money. You might think, "Geez! Here's a swell guy!" but when you squint and realize that he's doing it because he feels his life wouldn't have purpose without doing something, you learn that he's simply desperate to be liked and worried. As such, he finds a cause and hurdles himself at it full-force.

That's sort of the situation I'm in.

It was spelled-out to me in a weird Horoscope thing, earlier, which isn't usually the sort of thing I'd put too terribly much stock into, (as opposed to Fortune Cookies, mind you, which I try to adhere to adamantly) but it more or less said:

"Hey, you're going to make money. You likely already have money, and you feel like it's a measure of success. However, you dislike too many physical comforts. As such, you're going to be caught in a state of discontent because you're going to be consistently owning the money that doesn't make you happy, and that you're not likely to use."

I've sunken into a bit of a mope-season over that, because it's true.
I've been trying to purchase essentials for people: Food, Medicine, even a Internet Connection, but nobody will take it.
I'm trying to provide for someone, so that I can be justified as happy, or something, but it's all very odd.
It's not just, "Hey, I want you to spend my money", though. I want to give it to someone who kind of needs it, for something essential to them.

I can't quite put it all into words, but I'm trying to.
"Provide" feels key to whatever it is I'm trying to do, though.
The moment I said it, I felt like it was a word key to what I was trying to convey.

You ever meet a long-time idol and have them act really harshly towards you?
Something akin to that happened as of recent.
One of those, "Hey, you're a huge influence as to what I do!" sorts suddenly, well, tried to join Galt's Gulch, so to speak. Stopped caring, stopped conveying, and vanished.

I know they're not making burgers in a railroad diner, but part of me is infinitely sad that I never mailed them a postcard. Really, really sad.
I hope I meet them halfway.
I don't want to lose all that delightful influence and only have what I have.

I don't even know.

There's this weird stew of tumultuous something brewing up, and I don't know what it's aimed at, but I know I'm either about to spend an absurd amount of money, make a desperate effort, build schools in Bhutan, or sink into something stagnant.

I Woke Up in a Da-ze.

Around 5:00 AM, having had an odd dream. A woman savagely beat me with the stock of her shotgun until a bunch of my bones broke - I didn't know her, but she apparently knew my sister. She left, and I lay there knowing I couldn't pay my medical bills alone if I went into the hospital, so I decided that if anyone asked, I would say I'd either fallen down some stairs or the victim of a hit-and-run. Shortly afterward, a man named "Hiram Ireem", who was a wrestler of some sort, came strutting around wearing a jaguar mask. I woke up and prepared to Volunteer.

The Humane Society was understaffed at a Vaccination Event outside of UPCO Pet Supplies, and I wound up sitting in this tent filling out City Tags for pets who Doctor Peters, an out-of-towner Vet from Lee Summit, vaccinated. Halfway through, a massive storm hit, and I wound up sitting in the rain for about six hours.
I take walks in rain. Rain's my thing.
Sitting in it with heavy wind that keeps blowing your business cards everywhere, while it's freezing, trying to do six hours of paperwork?

That makes rain a little less fun.

I laid the foundation for the Palanquin Ship in Minecraft. It's a staggering thirty-six blocks high, before it proceeds deeper into the lake that it's frozen into. I have big plans for it, but no patience.

Also, offline, I've found that I'm really more of a Marisa.
I'm kind, and witty, and I get things done.
But I'm also crude, opinionated and, on occasion, foul-mouthed.
It's a shame I can't be Marisa, though. Even if I'd wanted to.
But, mind you, I can put on the hat.

The evening consisted of warming up, drying off, and eating apple jam.
I could live happily off fruit preserves and bread, no lies.

Tomorrow is Special, Yesterday was Not.

It was my favorite song in Hisoutensoku, and then I guiltily realized it was also Suwako's theme, and that I must have looked like a vain bastard for picking it above all others regardless of who I was playing as.

It's definitely a happy skip-skip kind of song.

I wasn't criticized for my posture by Paul today, at the gym. He said it was good for once as I went for squats. My feet bend oddly when I kneel. My heels refuse to stay on the floor, and if I recline on them, my knees buckle, and I fall over. I think it might be a product of having worn the classic Forrest Gump style leg-braces as a small child, because my feet bent inwards. Nevertheless, I was also embarrassed to drop my first bar today. I went to bench something kind of absurd that a guy that was there before me left on, and I dropped it, though I caught it with an arm. My thumb and forearm are bruised and swollen, but it's definitely survivable.

It's been wet today. Not rainy, but the air is almost heavy with humidity, without any heat. It's kind of like the showers at community centers when people have just used them - always cooling and thickening the changing rooms - and everything's in a state of perpetual morning dew.

I'm preparing to mail a list of my extracurriculars, Honors, and volunteer work to the University of Saskatchewan and the New York University. It looked surprisingly slim, but some of the people at the program helped me inflate it a bit by listening the different agencies I did the same work for, and putting down the one-day events I staffed, too, like the Airshow I worked an Icecream Kiosk at. It at least looks lengthy. I'm worried they'll squint and say, "Hey-! This is all retail and animal-care!"

I doodled something like this in pencil. Again, it looks a little better on the post-it I scribbled it on, but I thought, "I could do this in MSPaint!".
I've been contemplating renting Oblivion so I could put on a Hood and max out Hand-to-Hand combat, without any commitment like moving a chair down here, because we've sold all the furniture, or being short the $40 or so the game probably costs.
I'm fond of Hand-to-Hand combat, because so many games would prefer to give you a sword.

I've got tomorrow to myself, and all the curry and coffee I could ever hope to want.
Tomorrow is special. Yesterday was not.

Rain, Curry, and Penis Jokes.

Sometimes, your friends are naval Captains.

Sometimes, doujins tell you that mushrooms can make you grow a penis.

Sometimes, sailors eat a steady diet of curry at sea.

Sometimes, you decide you desperately want to make mushroom curry.

I put on some Jazz while it rained, and whipped up this














Then I went for a walk in the rain.
You can't pass up weather like this, especially when it'll soon be snow.
I saw my breath for the first time this morning.

Back to the Grind

I'd been meaning to draw something all scribbly and odd like this for some time.

I think it came out okay.

I was up watching a Wrestling Pay-per-View with a friend last night. It was tense stuff, and after all was said and done, I flagged down my little sister to tell her that both her favorites lost. She scowled when she heard who won, too, a nemesis of hers that she often jokes she could beat up in spite of her five-foot two-inch stature.
The whole match was a good day for bad people. All the Heels won, and the Faces were disqualified or ousted after serious beat-downs. I hope it's just a publicity deal, and all the good-guys will get their revenge shortly after, whilst bragging into the drop-down mic, as per usual.

I finished my Handbook on Pakistan.
After reading so much about people backpacking stuff up mountains in outdated Soviet machines, and drinking tea before every business-discussion, it got in my head to enter Roleplay Chat and steep tea while backpacking goods.
...It didn't go over too well, and I was kind of fed to some trolls, 'cause the person who invited me wasn't around.
All these ideas are penting-up and they'll go stagnant sooner or later, or I'll pick them apart, or use all the good stuff in PMs or something.

Also, I'm listening to the looped theme of the Rooftop from Yume Nikki right now.
Have you ever stopped and realized what a beautiful place the Rooftop was?
It even sounds pleasant in its stark contrast to the usual unsettling ambiance.

Bought more coffee and bread.
Hello, every meal of the day.

...And Then I Punted a Soccerball at Nue!

I was awarded a Compass for my ongoing efforts in Costa del Sol.

I'm a pint away from being a member of the Gallon-Donator's Comittee or whatever it's called at the community Blood Bank. They called yesterday saying they had a shortage on A-Positive, and that I should donate, so I puttered down and I'm short a pint, now.



I still have to finish this handbook on Pakistan.
I really don't want to bother with reading it.
The way it's worded, it's like...
They set in to go on a feminist rant about Burkas and Hijabs, while calling everyone a terrorist, (though it uses the phrases 'Warlord' and 'Chieftain' much more often.) but then kind of realized, "Oh, geez. There are people actually happy in Pakistan?" and then changed its focus a little.

I've been assigned a Labcoat for my Medical stuff.
It's mine to keep, and I've decided to wear it casually, because I feel like Nitori when I do.
They said I could buy a more-durable one for a paltry sum of $20, but that's $20 I could use to purchase someone's monthly internet, groceries or something. Technically, mine is almost disposable-grade.

Minecraft is down, by the by, and they're giving it out free until they fix it up. If you haven't tried it, and would like to, go lay some blocks and such. Be sure to bring your own music, though. I believe Minecraft's music isn't working.
I recently built a cool floating tower that somehow dwarfs the awesome of my old one in a Survival-Multiplayer server, and now I'm lamenting that I can't further procrastinate by building it higher or making sure my tree has grown at it's top.

Whole Eater.

Do you remember the Whole Eaters in Midgar?

I do, and I always kind of liked them. Way more than the Zolokalters, who were the same, but not such a fleshy color...

I'm done with my massive Thesis Paper, and now I can prop my feet up and read sporadically until I'm finished with that handbook...

I can finally exhale.

Finally have a moment to myself that isn't the morning.

Hunter, my Dog, was euthanized today. He was shot back when he was a stray, and when we took him in, we mistook the troublesome bullets in his hind leg for arthritis, since he was so old. His leg finally got so bad that he couldn't move, so he took a rest at the clinic that he didn't wake up from.

Poor old guy. He was like a person.
A graying, pot-bellied old man who was just always happy to see you.

Are You Certain This is a Hat?

Because it looks an awful lot like one of those parasite-things. I don't think this is where she gets her powers after all, Cirno...

I'm taking a momentary break to whip this up.

I won't be on tonight, because I have a lot of college-ish stuff to take care of.
Big TAG Presentation and Oratory, AHEC wants me to do a hypothetical autopsy on a middle-aged Hispanic woman who drops dead after walking her dog, and I have to read ninety-eight pages of this handbook on Pakistani Culture. (Though, it's common knowledge that Iran is way more awesome than Pakistan.)
Apparently, Tea and Coffee are very much a part of Pakistani Culture, in case you were wondering...If I knew the Etiquette, I'd fit in like a brick, as I'm currently running off four cups of Coffee. I wonder if they drink it Turkish? I'll see if they discuss preparation at all, eventually, I suppose.

I ate some cucumber with the vinegar Steve fit me, slathered in pepper like everything I eat, and polished it off with a frozen carton of yogurt. Like Hjalmar, bread is quickly becoming my diet-staple, though I eat infrequently between coffee-breaks, game-matches and writing here, so I've been trying to squeeze in a fruit or a vegetable here and there so I'm not just eating flour after delicious baked flour.

I kept my upped-weight on the Squat-Bar at the gym, today. I haven't had a good, solid lift for a little bit because I was sick, and then my stuff was stolen, and all sorts of other excuse-ridden miscellanea, so after finishing my reps for the day, my thighs are crying like, "Ichirin-! Why did you do that to us? Why didn't you simply take a ten-pounder off and warm up!?"

...They'll get over it.

Anyways, I'll stop procrastinating and get back to work.

In closing; the Doodle.
I've been trying to get really good with Suwako in Hisoutensoku.
I'm respectable, but not anything to be reckoned with, just yet.
I often hit X and C accidentally as I move in for combos, and waste my mounting Spellcards. Chen says that's probably my biggest weakness, aside from "Being Suwako".
Secret-Friend said I play a formidable Patchouli. I disagree, but I'm going to work on her, too, so that if someone books my Piety-Toad, I can still rough 'em up.

Pyonta's awful distracting, and vaguely threatening.
...He's like lice or something, but bigger and fashionable.

Coinlockers and Haunting Sushi-Waiters.

I started the day off-kilter. Usually, around 5:30, I down about a pint of black coffee. It's dreadful for me, I'm certain, but it keeps me tickin', and I get through the day. Today, I did not, and forwent my coffee for the day. I'm exhausted, and it's only 5:00.

Today's AHEC deal was over Dosimetry. Basically, it was all about Dosage. How, as just enough Gamma kills Malignant Cells, just enough Lithium can treat Cluster Headaches. They also had a footnote on Micro-Medicinal stuff, mainly DNA and RNA-type stuff. I was thoroughly amused to find that the Codons for Isoleucine are "AUU" and, evermore amusing, Cysteine's are "UGU". That's right. We're all so moe~ we have our AUUs and UGUs encoded into our genetics.

This amusement tailed-off when I entered the Gym to find that someone had emptied my little coinlocker-thingy. My tennis-shoes, work-out clothes and such were gone, and someone had changed my lock. It was a real downer - I suppose all in all, not too much was lost. Those tennis-shoes needed to be retired, anyways - they were comfortable, but I was holding the soles in with Plumber's Putty...

I did my lifts and, when I left, the woman who listens to me whistle said she hadn't heard me for awhile. I told her I was sick and apologized.

I've also been unable to forget the sad store-clerk who stared at her hands. I tried to doodle her, but settled for the Sushi instead, because she ended up looking like the faceless women who peer out over The Dark Lake in Yume Nikki. That's actually a really apt depiction of her. She looked just like that, albeit she didn't have an empty black socket for a face...

Basudei Presento Desu.

I got this odd doodle from a buddy of mine, Battler. It's of Kawaii-Zombie. He likes you.

So It's my birthday. I renewed my Applications. I hope to be making minimum-wage and halving it to add to my amassed $300. Then I can have some Hotel-Money set aside for Canada and New York City. (I can't afford to live. In New York City! Aaa-Aaaah-Aaaaa... And she can't afford to leeeeeave~♫) I also plan to get some higher standards of living distributed.

..."Squalor"...


Anyways, I went to the local bar and ordered sushi.
They had this scallop roll, and it was literally listed as something similar to, "Hatate-maki". I was like, "Hatate-roll. I'll order it". I also ordered one of those Ikura ones, where it's just a bunch of fish-eggs peeking up at you like eyeballs?

It was surprisingly good - the texture was terrible, but it was good.

However, what made the whole deal odd was the waitress. There was this tall, thin Japanese woman in one of those old-style robes. She brought me a plate, then sat down, very sad, and looking at her hands in the corner of the restaurant, alone.

Just sitting there, unhappy and looking at her hands.

I asked for a To-Go box for some of it, because I wanted to adhere to my half-half diet with Secret-Friend, and because it'd be good breakfast for tomorrow.
She was really eager to help me box the fish up, but I felt like I was troubling her, somehow, and I said I'd take care of it, and thanked her.
I gave her a generous tip, too.

But, at the end of the day, she still tucked the tip into a small bowl at the register and sat back in the corner, all thin and wilted and unhappy, looking at her hands.

Andrew, he's been very unhappy lately, too. I think he's not used to anyone caring about him, and now he's got Maid Army and Twohou vying for his attention and people lined up spilling their hearts to him, and he's just really out of his element...
He was angry - it's the first time I've ever seen him angry.

The Angry and Sad Shopkeepers.
Those were the oddities of my day.

I've been sick for some time. Showers help, but when I take them, I notice an odd thing that's come with my age, I think. I don't get reinvigorated and ready to take on the day. Instead, I feel all loose and jellied, and just want to sleep...

Tom's birthday is today, too.
If you see him, wave him down and tell him you're glad to see him, and congratulations. If not for college, I think he's now licensed to tilt-back glasses at pubs.

Oh, and Steve got me a lovely bottle of Vinegar.
I'll post pictures and such, soon.

Until then, just remember.
Even if you're alone or, perhaps, especially when you're alone?
Kawaii-Zombie likes you.

Welcome to The Suck.

I slept at 3:00 AM.
The dog laid herself outside my door and proceeded to cry for several hours, because she wanted to sleep in my spot. I refuse to give up my bed because some dog is indignant about sleeping on the floor.

...I slept in 'till 8:30.
I'm so irked, because I usually get up at 5:00, and now I'm squeezing in an extra three-and-a-half hours because I up so late listening to the perpetual "Ahroo-!" outside my door.

I have to start my quota of work, today.
I'm going to be reading a small book about Pakistani Culture which, while I won't be taking English or Composition courses my Freshman Year, gives me the opportunity to skip out on another year's English and come yet further-recommended to a college.

There's a certain feathered friend who could be reading -
If you are, I'm sorry if I'm a little late - I slept in and I've got to start in on my book, among other things.

I'll lose to you in Hisoutensoku another time - I'm really sorry.

Cooking Nun 2: Dinner with Friends

So, yesterday I went to the grocer's and picked up some ingredients for Orange Syrup as well as some essentials: Bread, Coffee, Milk, and the likes. Deals were scarce, but, as always, the Bakery dishes out their day-old bread for super-cheap, though I always feel like Mamimi when I go in asking for day-old bread.



I got home and boiled it up, let it cool in the fridge, and then set to slathering chicken in the stuff. First, I fried it up in a pan in the syrup with a little flour and salt. It came out really presentable, which is astounding because I'm usually really terrible with Rice - It somehow always winds up as this on-its-way-to-Congee paste brick.













It was nice, and I was content, but I still had some syrup and chicken left, and an orange in the fridge, so I decided that I'd make something else, too. Secret Friend and I have been on this diet-and-exercise routine for a bit, and I thought to use the syrup in a healthier way than frying stuff in a pan with it, so I set to grill, and whipped this up, on a skewer.













Finally, I thought to take a picture of my breakfast atop the College Request Envelope that I just got from Mizzou - the State University. I was kind of proud because they said that some ten-percent of students statewide get to see that Request paper, and that I'm some sort of super-gifted student or something. I'm a little saddened that, since I'm being moved to Syracuse, and likely attending in New York for some time, that I won't be able to take them up on the offer, but I'm really kind of flattered. I guess eating my sandwich and coffee off their request isn't the best way to show it, but I'm multi-tasking.














Anyways, I suppose that's really it - I didn't intend to weigh this post down so much with pictures, but I ended up doing it. In addition to all this Jazz, I've been playing quite a bit of Hisoutensoku. I'm told I'll play much better once I buy a game-pad, but having just bought groceries, that seems to be quite far-off. Okuu and I played a bit, so I could get the feel for it - I was brutally stomped (literally, actually - with a stone-encased foot.) but it was still good fun and I've learned that Suwako could be quite the annoyance if I learned to play her. Otherwise, I seem to enjoy played as Iku and Meiling.
Oh, and I don't know how to host - I think it's because I need ports forwarded...
That said, I'm a little shaky about leaping in head-first to tamper with my router, so if any of you are good at teaching, forwarding ports, or teaching someone to forward ports, I'd really like to pester you for help.

That Old Photographer's Eye.

I had to break out my Photographer's Eye because it was a beautiful evening tonight. For the first time in a long time, I stood out in the rain as the thunder played off in the distance.

It wasn't just raining, though, the Moon was out.
Half-full and extraordinarily bright.
The porch was lit-up and I didn't have to flip a switch or strike a match.

I burned through the Government Class that I was dreading today. I met my quota on work despite being late for the first half of the lecture because I was checking in on the Vital System I was covering in Biomedicine. It's never as bad as you think it will be.

I still haven't picked up stamps, though. The woman who sells them said they were actually out, and I've run out of the cute ones that I got from the Shelter.

Really, though, Please keep expecting things.

Also the doodle: When matches begin in Killing Floor, people always go Sharpshooter, and then devastate a wave in thirty seconds, reloading all the while. Parsee and I, though?

We take out our knives and go Berserker.

Good Morning.

It's about 5:30 AM over here, which means I've just about finished my cup of coffee and am considering having a second - I've also eaten the other-half of a delightful sandwich I had for dinner last night. I've taken to eating lightly in the mornings, which, while keeping me more-functional than just-coffee, also makes my belly make some weird sounds in demand for more midways into classes as it demands more food, which I don't have until I get home, because I don't take a Lunch Break.

It's worse when I'm in the Gym, because before I'm home, my belly has likely done it's impression of a Chocobo ("Waaaark-!") while I was sprawled out for my Benches or something.

I've yet to get stamps. I'll pick some up today, or something. I always burn through them because they only come in sets of twelve, and I have to pay double-postage on the internationals. Still, I don't think I've mailed anything, other than Arzi's present, as of late, and that's frustrating. I'll definitely have something on it's way to you guys...

I take another round of College Government today.
I really, really hate it.
Moreover, I have to make a respectable presentation for Biomedicine. I had it all squared away, as did a few other students, but the instructor is selectively stricter on the guidelines for me, though I think it's because she sees the promise I've managed to show, or maybe as revenge for hanging around when everyone has left for lunch to try and know her better.

You can never go wrong with knowing your instructors and teachers. At least if something bad comes up, they know you better, too, and might be a little lenient with you because they know what was going on...

Anyways, I'm calling it good.

Also, you look like Yuko, sort of, Morichika.