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Shaking Off the Dust, Greasing Up the Rust [Dec. 2nd, 2009|09:03 pm]
[Mood |creativecreative]
[Music |Haydain - Super Mario]

I've edited the below post about the passing of my beloved iguana, Smaug, to be seen by 'Friends Only'. I don't know why, but it feels like the best thing to do. I almost made it for 'Just Me', but that seemed counterproductive.


In the time between my last post and now, I've been chasing an idea to utilize this journal as more than just a place to flap my mental gums (ew). I think what I'd like to do is also use it as a sort of...creative zone. As my neglected fanfics can testify, I've run into a bit of a dry spell when it comes to keeping up with a story. However! My production of pointless one-shots has risen and I've decided that, while not good enough to publish on fanfiction.net, these little ficlets are certainly entertaining enough to post here on my livejournal. That said, I will endeavor to post as many as I can as often as I can in the hopes that it will get my creative juices flowing (also, ew) and I can get back to How Dare They and Death, Thy Name is Volleyball. Seriously, these guys haven't been updated in three years! I bet people think I'm dead. Personally, I blame the muses. ;P

Anywho, I'll also endeavor to use DeviantArt more. I've been trying to hone my meager drawing skills into less-meager drawing skills, but it is a slow process. Fun as all get-out, but crazy slow, too.

Why am I doing this? Well, I like to think of myself as a person of creativity be it through wordings or doodlings. It's what I enjoy and now I must inflict - er, share - it with the world!

...or the two people who actually read this journal, one of whom is me and the other is YOU, obviously. ^o^

'Til next time, may your city be free of rampaging kaiju!
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Perhaps I Should Invest in Post-Its... [Jun. 4th, 2007|08:24 pm]
[Mood |happyfeelin' like me]
[Music |NOFX - I, Melvin]

Does it not seem that each time I say I am going to elaborate on a post later, later never comes? I don't know if it's because I just forget to do it or what. In any case, I really am going to have to get back into a regular update for my sake. These are, and I quote, "The best years of my life" so missing out on documenting as much of it as I can while it is happening sounds like something I will regret when my hair is white and falling out.

Oh, God, my hair! Recall when I said I was going to get my hair done for Prom? Well, I did and Prom went great and all (I WILL elaborate on THIS later, if it's the last thing I do!), but there's one problem with it...


They hacked 'em! oKay, that may be a little rough -- they did layer it and try their best to make it pretty even after the style faded. It's just...it touches barely past my shoulder-blades when it used to reach past my hips. Losing that much in so short a time is giving me diluted absence pains. Sigh, and then my hair has the habit of curling at the ends (soon as they're cut, the new ends curl) so now I have this short hair with all these layered curls -- looks weird to me. Plus, the beautician was trying to give me bangs, despite the fact that I don't like bangs. I don't mean the kind that hang at the sides of your face; those I don't mind. I mean the curled-over-your-eyes type. Since they'd already cut it to the size required for such a "doo", I have these curling things hanging by my eyes that, every once in while, will find their way right into the poor eyeballs. This is especially aggravating when they're drenched in shampoo.

Ah, well, whining isn't the reason why I decided to write today. This being the end of my school year, I decided that updating as often as possible is particularly crucial. Really, I have spent more than half my existence in school and now this constant in my life is about to be over, making way for a new constant: work. With this thought in mind, on to the future-memories!

Today, we had scholarship essays to write. I had been given a warning in advance, but true to form I waited until the last minute to do it. Fortunately, it was only 250 words and I had it done in no time. UNfortunately, acquiring the rest of the required material wasn't so easy. I normally get out of school at 11:30 A.M. -- I didn't leave until 2:30 P.M. and that was only because I had to get to work. I do hope I win these things at least; I once said my family wasn't poor, but we are quite...lacking. Perhaps I should clarify that my idea of poor involves living in a box and collecting cans from bins.

Perhaps this is narrow on my part?

[EDIT: I've noticed a trend in my most recent posts; it seems I write so that I alone understand it. This is not acceptable and will be rectified...later.]
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Pretty Dresses and Fishes [May. 25th, 2007|09:12 am]
[Mood |excitedexcited]
[Music |NOFX - I, Melvin]

Tonight is Prom Night at the Aquarium of the Pacific, and I have one very likely prediction about it: my feet are gonna huuuuuurt!

I'm pretty excited about it, especially since I was never intending to go. In a very generous move that made me tear up a little, my school sponsored me. My tickets, my shoes, the whole nine yards! My teacher actually took me to the mall to pick everything out, and we were there for five hours! It takes a long time to find the right things, I've discovered, especially since I was very adamant it not cost too much. I was also adamant that the shoes not be so spike-heeled, but on that instance my teacher was making no exceptions. She loves the derned things, and said again and again that with the dress my mother and I had chosen (we'd bought it some time ago), spike-heels were a must.

My school really didn't have to do all this; my family isn't poor or anything. They say they did it because of all the times I've helped them, which is true; I did help. A lot. But, I don't see where I deserve all of this kindness. I know altogether that my teachers ended up paying over $200 between the lot of them, and I'm at a loss how simply helping out makes me worthy of it. I have a feeling I'm sounding overly modest, but it's who I am! I really do enjoy being helpful; it's my nature. Rewards aren't really expected...

Gah, I'll be able to write with more clarity later. Right now, I have to get my hair done and I always hate the process. My hair is really long (a bit past my hips), thick, and strong. Having it done hurts almost as much as my shoes are going to, and takes a looong time.

Still, glee!
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Godzilla vs The Court [May. 20th, 2007|10:34 pm]
[Mood |uncomfortableuncomfortable]
[Music |Loretta Lynn - Coal Miner's Daughter]

Geeee'hous! Tomorrow, I have to go to court for a truancy charge that I almost completely forgot about, so I am entirely unprepared and beginning to wig out! See, I was late to school one day and, rather than just facing the consequences in my first period as I am used to, I was slapped with a ticket by school security and told I'd have to appear in court to defend my reasons for being late. Having never been to court, I am unsure what to do and nothing makes me more uncomfortable than not being sure. Blargh. The good thing is that my teachers and my principal promised to help defend me; bad news is they have no idea its tomorrow, and I'm not certain I can get in touch with them in time. My appearance is scheduled kind of early, and with no notice there won't be any subs to take their place. It may just have to be me, seeing as I'm an "adult" and all. I can tell you, I'm gnawing my knuckles over here.

On the plus side...

Awhile back I saw Godzilla: Final Wars, and just today I finally got a hold of Godzilla vs Gigan. I loved 'em both. At times, Godzilla vs Gigan was so silly (like any Godzilla movie), but had the good fortune to have been created in the era where the monsters were given a lot of character (though they looked pretty unpleasant). Final Wars made me gasp out loud and was the first kaiju movie to make me as interested in what the humans were up as the monsters! Crazy, I know!

I'll have to elaborate on this post later, since I have to get some rest in preparation for tomorrow. The way I see it, if I have no clue what to do, it never hurts to look like I do. Wish me luck!
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WARNING: Writing With Brain Off [Apr. 29th, 2007|06:09 pm]
[Mood |blahblah]
[Music |Mungo Jerry - In the Summertime]

I'm in a funk. One reason why I know this to be true is the fact that I wanted to stop writing this post as soon as I had finished that first sentence. I don't know why this is happening. I used to love everything about writing in this journal -- heck, about writing at all! -- but recently I just haven't been in the mood. Add to this the fact that I have made a typo in every other word in this post so far, and I am one aggravated nitwit. Also, I hate to think that what I'm forcing myself to churn out is nothing but whining, especially since I don't think I have the right to be whiny. Only reason I'm even expressing this is because I feel the need to write something in this journal; just because I've lost my groove doesn't mean I don't still love my journal. I just feel less inclined to update it. A shame, really, since so much stuff has happened to me which I would have liked to have documented for future reading. Ah, well, I'll just have to bullet it. Back off, Mr. Chronological Order! I'm in no mood for your hijinx. This list will be random!

• I got a job! It's my first ever and, so far, I like it a lot. It's at a law firm and I get $10 an hour, plus my boss wants me to stick around "long-term" so is willing to work my schedule around school and, later, around college. Looks like I'm set for a while!

• I got baptized! You are now looking at a baptized, confirmed, and first-communion'd QueenGhid. Hooray! Although, true to form, I bungled my ceremony. I really don't understand why I can't have any experience without making a fool of myself (first time I ever went to church on my own, I had to race in and out of the men's room for some tissue paper). Not only did I stumble over my white dress (which took my mother and I ages to find), I nearly gagged on the communion wine after taking only a sip. I'm a prude! I don't drink! The stuff was like fire! And trust me, coughing and wheezing is not the best when in a quiet-as-a-mouse church. I also got candle wax all the heck over the pew in front of me. Whoops! At least I wasn't the only one making mistakes. My grandmother insisted that my mother take part in the ceremonies, but my poor mom was never at practice so she had no clue what to do. Technically, she's not even Catholic. When the priest asked if she was going to take communion, she said no and he gasped out loud. Ah, good times.

• I've lost my ScrapPad! Once again every piece of writing I had done on this computer has been taken from me. Gone! Deleted! Never to return! This time it was no virus -- it was my older brother. I had mentioned to him that the computer's memory was really acting up despite all the unnecessary files I have been deleting, so he came over and erased a bunch of his old files to make room. It helped, but he made one slight error: he erased all of my files as well! So, that means all my music/writing/images are completely kaput. Restoring them ain't gonna be easy, but I had fortunately learned my lesson from the last time and had saved a bunch of it on a disk. Alas, I was not in the habit of updating the disk each time I made a new addition and the loss is still a heavy one.

• I saw Eragon. Notice, no exclamation point this time. That movie was crazy! Nothing happened as it did in the book, and I don't mean in the way that movies usually don't.
I laughed at so many scenes that were not only crazy-wrong, but crazy-crazy, too! How did Saphira get so big, so fast? And what's with the "climatic" battle at the end? And why is Eragon such a prat? The only saving grace, strictly in my opinion, was that Jeremy Irons played Brom. Ah, Jeremy Irons. How I heart you. *adoring sigh*

Blargh, I have much else to write, but that accursed tedium of mine is settling in. What's wrong with me? It's getting increasingly worse, as is my memory and attitude. It could just be the fact that I have so little time to myself, what with school and work and all. I haven't been sleeping/eating well lately, either. Hmm...it's all starting to make sense now. To the fridge!


Oh, and just to break this horrid period of inactivity, I present a drabble. It is an example of what my work looks like before I go over it a second time and is without any polish. It was made after reading a few of Aesop's stories during my funk (which leads me to hope that recovery is in the near future) and is now part of what I'm intending to make a series of called "Queenie's Fables". The final version will, of course, be fine-tuned once I manage to shed my listlessness. Hope you get a kick outta it, at least.


Aesop's Fables: Aberrationally Speaking

The Frogs Asking for a King

When Queen Ghidorah first decided to become a writer, she had already figured that it was in her best interest to start things off the right way. Instead of simply sitting and waiting for a random muse to follow her mental waves (a great attraction to the creatures) and risk a bad pairing, Queenie resolved to go out and request one personally from the Nine Heavenly Muses. Only these Mistresses of the Arts would know what type of partner would suit her needs exactly.
So, seating herself cross-legged on her livingroom floor, the pony-tailed brunette emptied her mind of all outside distractions (something which was easier said than done for the scatter-brained teen) and sought with her soul the illustrious Muse-Stream. A slight tickling sensation behind her eyes and a sudden sweet taste in her mouth were the only warnings she received before she felt herself tossed into the Stream, tumbling and crashing like a barrel down Niagra Falls.
When at last she came to a stop, sprawled flat on her back across a marbled floor, she was in the Realm of Higher Thinking and already the Nine were drifting toward her. They neither floated nor walked, these women, but instead seemed to waltz in slow-motion so at times their toes touched the floor and at others merely skimmed the surface.
Queenie sat up dizzily, hand to her swimming head, and watched as they paused a yard away. They seemed to be studying her where she sat, heads cocking first this way, then that as they whispered mysteriously to each other. After what seemed like ages of this bizarre scrutiny, eight of the Nine retreated until only one remained. This was Thalia, the Muse of Comedy, and her laughing nature seemed particularly amused by Queenie's entrance.
"What brings you here?" Thalia asked, one hand covering her mouth to hide her smile.
Queenie got shakily to her feet. "Please, Lady," she spoke as politely as she could, "I've come for a Muse to help me write, since I don't know where to get one who will suit me perfectly."
Thalia chuckled, shaking her head. "Careful what you mean by 'perfectly'," she cautioned in a tone that belied the seriousness of her warning. "You may not receive what you want."
"That is why I've come to you, to get your expert opinion," Queenie insisted.
Thalia pursed her lips thoughtfully. All at once she went completely still, right down to the sudden freezing of her once flowing hair. Her blue eyes had turned pure white and were glowing eerily, a sign that her mind was currently off on an errand. Sensing what this errand might be about, Queenie remained silent and waited for the Lady to come back.
The return of buoancy to her hair was the first sign that Thalia's mind was back. Blinking faintly, seeming surprised to find herself standing in the brightly lit hall with Queenie kneeling before her, Thalia gave her head a slight shake and smiled at the girl.
"Done," she chirped merrily. "Go home and you'll find him waiting."
With much display of graciousness, Queen Ghidorah leaped back into the Muse-Stream and was quickly ushered home in the same rough-and-tumble manner as before. When she was once again in her livingroom, she found she was not alone -- there, seated on her couch with a look of utter bewilderment, was an emerald green kremling wearing the golden crown of a king. Queenie instantly recognized him as being King K.Rool from the Donkey Kong games she played as a child. Thrilled, she immediately threw her arms around him and exclaimed over how much fun they would have together.
King K.Rool, knowing nothing at all about what was happening, pulled away from her and declared at the top of his voice that nothing would be done until he knew where he was and what he was doing there. Queenie at once offered an explanation -- in fact doing so three times before what she said was accepted -- and happily sat down at her computer with the intention of starting her writing.
There she sat in silence for some time before she realized that nothing was happening. Turning in confusion to her muse, she discovered him seated stiffly behind her, an expression of discomfort on his crocodilian features.
"What am I expected to do?" he asked after Queenie scolded his lack of action. "What does being a muse entail?"
Having no answer to this, and disappointed by his incompetence, Queenie instructed the kremling monarch to stay where he was while she made a second trip to the Realm of Higher Thinking.
After another ride through the Muse-Stream, Queen Ghidorah confronted Thalia and beseeched a new muse, stating that her current one was too idle and inexperienced to be of any help.
"Well, all brand-new muses are inexperienced," Thalia explained with a laugh. "But, very well, I'll get you another."
The Goddess again stood perfectly still as she searched for a replacement for K.Rool. After a much longer time than the last, she returned to the present and nodded to Queenie.
"Go on home and you will find your muse."
Elated, Queen Ghidorah thanked Thalia for her help and tumbled her way back to her apartment.
When she got there, she discovered her newest arrival standing before King K.Rool, heatedly demanding of the frightened kremling where he was. Queenie at once came to the rescue, latching onto the arm of her latest muse warmly. It had to be his arm -- the shell of King Bowser Koopa, for indeed that was who he was, was so riddled in spikes that any attempt to hug him from behind would have resulted in Queenie's death. As it was, his spiked wristbands nearly carved her a new belly-button.
Outraged at this unexpected "attack", Bowser roughly shook her off and roared the same question he had asked of K.Rool. Queenie likewise offered the answer she had given the kremling -- although Bowser needed her to repeat herself twice as many times before he accepted what he was hearing -- and planted her rear in front of her computer expectantly.
Bowser, unlike K.Rool, took a position beside her and stared at the blank computer screen much the same way she was doing. After five solid minutes of this, Queenie at last turned to him and asked what she should do. The Koopa shrugged and told her to do as she liked, so long as he was allowed to go home after she was done; whatever he could do to speed this process along, all she had to do was ask and he'd consider it.
Somehow aggravated by this passive action, Queenie excused herself and hurried back to the Realm of Higher Thinking, nearly cracking her skull open when she face-planted onto the marble tiles. Apparently, the ride grew shorter the more she traveled it.
By the time she managed to peel her face off the floor, Thalia was standing in front of her, looking rather put-out.
"Yes?" she asked curtly and without her usual cheer.
"Please," Queenie entreated, "Permit me another muse. K.Rool continues to do nothing, and Bowser is far too uncaring to be of any help."
Thalia blew a frustrated sigh through her bangs. "Fine," she snapped impatiently, "but this is the very last time!"
Immediately she went rigid, leaving Queenie to pick her teeth up from off the floor and try to fit them back into the empty slots in her gums. The girl had just gotten the first one replaced when Thalia returned quicker than expected.
"Go home, and he'll be there," she directed as usual, but this time there was a malicious glint in her eye and much of her humor had come back. Somewhat distrustful, but too eager to make use of this suspicion, Queen Ghidorah crashed home to see to her newest muse.
This trip through the Stream was the first that didn't end with a painful landing. In fact, it didn't end with a landing at all. Her livingroom, as became obvious the moment she entered it, had for some reason lost all sense of gravity. Her furniture floated haphazardly through the air, as did she and her failed muses. The two were shouting something at her from across the room, their cries blending into a senseless garbling.
"What?" she yelled back at them, flailing wildly for some idea of balance. "What happened?"
In flawless unison they both stopped yabbering and instead pointed at something behind her. Taking hold of the sofa drifting by her, Queenie pushed against it and used the propulsion to twist herself around to see what was being pointed out. To her horror, she was met by the sight of a giant golden dragon. It's three heads and easily recognizable wings were all she needed to know who this behemoth was: King Ghidorah, Godzilla's ultimate foe.
There would be no hugs for this demon, nor any writing done for Queenie, for the moment the dragon spotted his namesake, he let loose a cackling roar and dove at her with all three jaws.
Their jobs terminated the instant Ghidorah's fangs clipped together, all three royal muses were sent back home, to be called upon when a new writer needed their help.
King Ghidorah, in particular, was sure to come back; the dragon was a favorite of Thalia's whenever one of her charges became a nuisance...

Morale: When you seek to change your condition, be sure that you can better it.


Now for some background info! In the official storyline, Queenie really did have to enter the Realm of Higher Thinking to get her muses, Thalia did actually become her Rep, and riding the Muse-Stream is just asking to have your head cracked open like a melon. Only difference in this fic is that Queenie had to actively go out and snag some muses and, obviously, K.G. didn't eat her. Or, to be more realistic, mutiliate her hideously in front of the other two. Good gravy! I just realized poor Bowser and K.Rool did see that! My babies!
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Yippee Skippee [Mar. 14th, 2007|07:40 pm]
[Mood |giddygiddy]
[Music |Bobby Bare - 500 Miles Away From Home]

Silly title aside, at this moment I am so giddy I could giggle myself sick. This post may just end up sounding wonky(er) because of it. All right, gimmie a moment to back-track...

This afternoon, in my fifth period class, my principal suddenly comes into the room after an entire day of not being seen. Startled (he has a presence about him that makes everyone stand up straighter), I watched him carefully to try and gauge whether or not he was looking for me in particular. I hoped not, so of course he was. Turns out, he needed me to represent my school at the latest district meeting. This has stopped becoming so surprising; I think I'm the unofficial school rep. Anywho, I try to weasel out of it, claiming I really wasn't sure whether or not my mother could take me (which is true), but he wouldn't take no for an answer. Flashing my teacher an apologetic look (5th period is when I help her grade papers), I reluctantly followed my principal to my school's Project Coordinator and we went to work tackling the items on which they'd like me to report on. I took notes dutifully, keeping up with their rapid-fire suggestions despite the fact I don't write in cursive as my cursive is just blah, and soon had a page of chicken-scratch to work with. They shooed me out to find a computer somewhere and somehow write a suitable report. Two hours later school was over and I only had the skeleton. Since my mother was picking me, it would have to do. So, I e-mailed it to myself so I could continue at home, which I did. After a paralyzing moment in which my computer stopped working (friggin' safe-modes and shut downs and...and other computer shtuff), I finally had something decent, printed it out in the most hideous fashion ever, and was only missing a shirt when my principal came to pick me up. My excuse? I hadn't expected him to come to get me personally! Turns out, he didn't want to risk being late as we had been every single other time we have these meetings.

Since we had taken such care to be there ahead of schedule, of course the board members were 50 minutes late arriving themselves. However, once the ball started rolling, everything went smoothly. I said my piece and was praised for a good job. Now, I am a sucker for praise, and was positively glowing from all the nice things they said about me. The superintendent, whom I have been acquainted with for a while, even waved at me when she first arrived! She called me her favorite student from my school (well...one of her favorites, is what she actually said) and requested my name be put in the log so that it would be remembered that it was I who delivered "such a wonderful report", rather than just listing my school's name. I was ecstatic! Heck, I'm still ecstatic; it's just gone down a bit since I took the time to watch Rocky Balboa when I got home. Good movie, by the way.

Gleeeee, I'm so proud of me! Forgive me if I'm getting irritating, but I'm what you call a "low self-esteemer" (I may have just made that word up) so this is like ice-cream on cake on pie to me. My principal said I did a great job and claimed to have actually taken a bit of a risk on my performance. See, he was the one chosen to deliver the first words, and he jestingly slipped in a professional zing at the board members for being late. If I hadn't done well, he said, then we may have been thrown out. He's joking...I think. In any case, I'm happy with me and all the pleasant things that were said about me (I've forgotten a few, in fact) and the hug I received from one of my teachers is still comforting. Am I done prattling now? Hmmm...yes, I think so. I cringe to think of what I'm going to find written here tomorrow; my mind seems to be everywhere but my fingertips right now, and since they manipulate the keyboard, who knows what they could be saying?


Fingertips forever!
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A New New Years [Dec. 31st, 2006|11:54 pm]
[Mood |hopefulhopeful]

The time has come again, my friends, to bid ado to another year of our lives. In terms of this journal, it will be the third time we've been together for the dropping of the ball. I find I rather like this tradition of sitting here, typing another message, as Dick Clark plays on the television. 'Course, Ryan Seacrest is there, but I've already accepted the fact that this blonde fella will be taking Mr. Clark's place, slowly but surely.

Ah, well, it's what the later generation'll have to deal with.

As for me, this year has gone by well enough. I didn't get to do nearly all that I'd have liked, but I'm beginning to believe that to be the story of my life. Speaking of stories, DTNIV is coming up on its third year and it is still barely on Chapter Six. I'm about ready to strangle my muses for neglecting me so much! Hm...that'll have to be my New Year's Resolution. Maybe then I can get some work done!

I have high hopes for 2007. It will be the year that I (hopefully) graduate from high school and finally face my future. I-is it all right that I'm scared witless? It is? Whew!

Eek, only five minutes left! I'll have to forget spell-checking this post (and making sure I don't sound like a fool) and just cut this short -- again! Happy New Years, everyone! May we do better this year than last!
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Oh, Shoot, It IS Christmas! [Dec. 26th, 2006|06:57 am]
[Mood |impressedIs happy!]

Thought I'd post a quick piece of proof that I am still kickin' on my side of the computer screen by wishing everyone a Merry Christmas while there is still about ten minutes left to the holiday. As odd as it seems, Christmas really snuck up on me this year. I can only guess this is because there isn't a tree in my house, but that sounds so very superficial that I'm apt to deny it. I attended a party at my aunt's house, but can't really say I enjoyed it too much. This comes as no surprise since I'm not big on parties, though it was nice to see my family again. As far as gifts go, I now have two new kaiju figures to add to my collection (Hedorah and Destroyah now join Kiryu and Gigan) as well as two new books (Eragon to be read before I see the flick, and Ghosts of Onyx to complete my Halo set). You can bet I'm thrilled! I've already started on Ghosts of Onyx. *nods happily* Well! Seeing as my writing mood is beginning to dwindle, I'll cut this short with a promise to return soon with a thorough update -- which includes my sudden infatuation with the kritters known as the Yautja (Predators! Whoo!) as well as the...um...the 80s Shredder from TMNT. *blush* Ahem, anyway, take this hastily sketched image of King Ghidorah as a parting gift -- sorry, no exchanges or returns without a receipt. ^_~

I may not be Picasso, but...Collapse )
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I. Need. Time! [Nov. 3rd, 2006|06:17 am]
[Mood |indescribableMeh...]
[Music |Lion King II - Upendi]

I am seriously tapped for time, my friends, and find updating this journal to be increasingly more difficult. This sucks because I do so love writing in this thing. Very venting, I tell you what, and I have many things I would like to relate (such as breaking into my own home with a screwdriver and a rubber mallet). In any case, I fully intend to return to a normal routine of updating as soon as I get a break. SATs are coming up and I am a nervous wreck; I need venting! Right now, all I have to distract myself from the horrors of growing up are my silly doodles, since my muses don't like hanging around me when I'm anxious. Very quick with the snarks, I am. Anywho, in honor of Halloween -- which I missed -- I now offer you a Holiday Elite...or, at least, what one would look like when drawn in my nubby style. At least he has toes, ne?

Cut for the sake of spaceCollapse )

Why, yes, his wonky armor was done from memory! Thanks for noticing! This critter is currently on display on my DeviantART account. As of now, he may be the only one who doesn't scorch a person's eyes out upon first glance. He also happens to be another stab at a Photoshop coloring. I'm getting better! ^_~

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The Washing Machine Goes "Whirr, Whirr, Whirr." [Oct. 30th, 2006|08:12 am]
[Mood |thankfulHalo on the Brain]
[Music |Joe South - Games People Play]

Blah, first time I get a chance to pop online and update this journal and I'm too sleepy to remember any of the many things I had wished to share. Bother. Well, I suppose it will have to be enough to get the word out that I am not dead and that I have things of actual interest to share, the least most being my intense fear of college prep. And with that, I bid thee goodnight. Oh, and Smitten with Villains will be getting an update soon. What started out as a half-hearted attempt to write about nothing has turned into a hobby I think I will enjoy. This means I'll have to be revamping the old lot I wrote a few years ago (wow!) that were poorly thought out. Anywho, I have already chosen the next group to be written about (not that anyone other than myself cares) and all that is to be determined is when I will actually have the time to write it. Hmm....Chemistry class sounds good...


Another bit of info that blew my mind (even if it may already be a little antiquated): Leader, the dynamic Elite Spec-Ops Commander from Halo 2, is no longer relying on rank or speculation for a name! The darling's official name is....*drumroll*....Rtas 'Vadumee! Wee! Consider my socks officially rocked the heck off! Forgive me, but I am now going to look way too far into things, as is my nature as well as the nature of Bungie. Now, from what I can tell, "Rtas" has no meaning. However, spelled backwards, "Satr" means "concealed". "Vadu" is a city in Romania, and may mean "bride". I, uh, I'm going to have to continue looking into that when it isn't one in the morning and I am more alert. Pff, whatever it turns out to be, I'm loving it! Rock on, Rtas 'Vadumee! Rock on!

Incidentally, I also came across the Heretic Leader's name from Halo 2. It is Sesa 'Refumee. Now, "Sesa" means "remaining" while "Refu", loosely translated, means "to flee; fugitive". Though I'm making assumptions outta the air here (or, rather, the dictionary), I have to say these translations make plenty of sense when applied.

Hmm, funny how I can't remember enough of my own life to write a paragraph, yet I'm gleefully translating Latin for the sake of an alien race. In my defense, it is one kickin' race!

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