Diary – Page 33 – p i x e l s c r i b b l e s

Megatokyo frenzy!

Today, Scott Kurtz posts a reaction to the Internet furor over his snipe at Megatokyo (quoted here).

Mega-blow up

It looks like there’s been a lot of fall out from the stupid joke I cracked this weekend about the parting of Megatokyo founders Rodney Caston and Fred Gallagher. First, Fred vomited up this big “confessional”, followed by a sort of apology for over reacting. Then Rodney’s blog got slammed by Fred haters and my inbox got flooded with people who wanted me to do everything from issue a written apology to prepare for a lawsuit over my “slanderous actions.”

The internet means never having to forget what highschool was like.

I have to tell you, I think Kurtz is hilarious. He is almost an Internet badass.

I say “almost” because (at least, according to this guy) he removed his original post about MT. A real badass would, like Eric Burns, stand by his words, whatever they were. This has the bonus effect of making you, perhaps, think before speaking.

I have personally decided never to delete anything off my site, though my reasons are more egotistical than anything. Basically, I love myself, and I want to share all my thoughts with the world. All of them. Even the ones that would hurt people. Which is why I didn’t delete this post, or this one, or this one, even though I hurt people’s feelings with them. Ultimately, I’m leaving them there for history, so that my biographers will have a complete picture of what kind of person I was.

(Please don’t call the guys in white coats on me for expecting to have biographers. It’s my happy ego-dream.)

Since those three posts I have been more careful about what I write here, thinking long and hard before mentioning someone by name. That’s a part of who I am, too; while I’m not fond of censoring myself, I realize that this journal isn’t just for me and my biographers. It’s read by people right now, and I have to respect those people.

How far can you go? That’s a question I’ve struggled with; the line is being constantly negotiated by every single person who self-publishes on the Internet. But to me, making a hurtful post is less of an offense than deleting a post. The first is excusable (and even funny, like Kurtz’s rants), but the second just seems like lying, or covering up the evidence. Once something’s been published, you can’t ever take it back. Not in the Information Age. Trying to do so only makes you seem untrustworthy.

So that, my friends, is my one and only beef with Scott Kurtz’s rants.

Calories, gingerbread, pictures, and an avalanche on Mt. Fuji

I’ve already eaten 2/3 of my calories for today! Those Marie Callender’s pot pies are deadly!

I hope I can get some exercise at some point. Brooke will be here to do gingerbread houses soon, though, so I don’t know when I can squeeze it in :/

(It looks like Mari and Wanda won’t be able to make it. I don’t want to give up on Mari, but…she’s out with her mom. ;P)

Because I don’t feel like making separate posts, I’m going to stick in some unrelated thoughts. (This is going to really annoy me later when I switch away from Blogger to software that allows me to use post categories, but whatever.)

First, here are the pictures from when I went biking with Brooke on Friday. They cover, essentially, the parts of the trail I didn’t get pictures of on Thursday. I’m not going to go through them all right now and discuss them. Instead, I’ll probably go back and add captions to them on smugmug later.

Second, there was a freak avalanche on Fujisan, but fortunately the nine people who were in the area were unhurt. I don’t know, I just think it’s interesting ;P Maybe because of Jeff Laitila‘s excursions on that mountain (please see “Mt. Fuji…A Testament to Pain” and “Mt Fuji saaaaan(of a bitch!)” for how Jeff achieved “blithering idiot” status).

Fin

Today’s adventure: Augusta Canal Historic Trail

Today after work and lunch, I decided that I was going to go biking. I had plans to go shopping with Mari after she got off work, but I figured I could easily fit in an hour or two of biking before that happened. I asked Brooke if she wanted to come riding, but she had her volunteering to do, so I flew solo.

I figured out how to work my odometer (the manual is rather cryptic), packed up my camera, and lugged the bike down the stairs.

I tried a different route to get to the Savannah Rapids Pavillion, one that led me down Old Evans Road, onto Columbia Industrial Boulevard and finally to Evans to Lock Road. I don’t think it was any shorter than going Davis to Washington to Baston to Fury’s Ferry to Evans to Lock, especially given how long the red light at Evans to Lock and Fury’s Ferry was. There’s a school back there, though, Blue Ridge Elementary or something (and by the way, I could have gone Old Evans Road to Blue Ridge and cut over to Evans to Lock, I think, but I only realized this later). Since I was going at around 2:45, school traffic was in full force, so going this route might not have been the best idea.

At any rate, I really enjoyed myself at the canal trail.

I put all my junk into the new bag on Syuusuke, except for my camera, which hung in its bag around my neck and shoulder. Then I coasted down the big gravelly hill to the path along the canal, crossed the canal on foot (there were workers there today with a scaffold), and reset the odometer for the day’s exercise. Then I was off!

For the first 18 minutes, I simply concentrated on riding. I tried to keep my pace up, ending up with an average speed of 12 mph. That’s not too shabby. I looked around at everything and thought about what great pictures I could take, but I wanted to get my workout done first.

I’d planned on riding for 30 minutes before stopping and turning around, but at the 18 minute point I hit the construction zone around Augusta Water Works, where you’re supposed to get off the bike and walk it through. Since there’s a steep hill there leading to train tracks, and lots of mud puddles along the way, I followed these instructions, memorizing my time and average speed.

Once I’d crested the hill and passed the train tracks, I did a few stretches, then continued on. I started out strong, but soon began to lose my focus. Two minutes crept by. “Well, I made it to twenty,” I thought ruefully, plugging on. I didn’t think I would be able to go much further.

But I kept going, until I made it to the strange, skinny concrete and metal bridge where Brooke and I stopped on our first time riding there together. This intrigued me. I’d crossed the bridge before, but I’d never gone beyond it. So I rode across and kept going.

The trail between the train tracks and the bridge had opened up to motor vehicle traffic. I hadn’t seen any cars, but the knowledge that a car might come upon me at any time was annoying. Here, at the bridge, the trail split off from the dirt road, and I found myself riding high above the dirt road below and to my left. The canal lay on my right–by this time, of course, the river itself was far beyond the trees to my left, invisible.

It was really a nice view, much nicer than the one from the dirt road, so I kept going. I rode past an odd little green building, and finally came to a crossroads. The New Bartram Trail continued on forwards, while the Augusta Canal Historic Trail apparently went right, according to the sign. I went right, and found myself going over the canal on a wooden bridge.

On the other side, the trail seemed to end at a street. The sign for the Historic Trail pointed left, so I turned that way, and found myself riding over a long, rolling expanse of caked mud, marked by the passage of many construction vehicles. It occurred to me to wonder whether or not I should be back there, but the sign had said this was the trail…plus, it was fun to ride over the slopes of mud.

So I kept going.

I passed some huge pipes lying on the ground, and enormous piles of dirt. Eventually on my right the trees gave way to a cemetery. Then, ahead, I heard some construction machinery start up.

“Uh oh,” I said, “it’s time to turn around.”

So I finally stopped. I was about to head back when I noticed something: that odd, castle-like building that you can see on River Watch Parkway was visible across the canal, through the trees. I stopped to take a picture–the first picture I’ve managed to take of the place.

By this time, I decided my workout was over. It was time to explore and take pictures! So I reset Syuusuke’s odometer again and headed off. It wasn’t long before I was taking more shots.

From now on, you will see all the stuff I already mentioned, in reverse! Hover over each picture for a description. (There are more pictures on my smugmug account than I’m featuring here, so go have a look.)

Nearing the edge of the construction zone, we see that there is a bike sign, indicating that this is, indeed, somehow, a trail. A little further on, we see the sign that pointed me into the construction site in the first place. In the background, there was a guy hosing off some piece of machinery. It looked (and sounded) really cool :>

After this, things look much more normal. A right turn put me on the path to the wooden bridge.

beautiful canal view with reflected clouds

leaves, Syuusuke, bridge wall, and weird canal thingies

And after the bridge and a left turn to head back, I was on my way towards the skinny bridge and the train tracks again. There were many beautiful things along the way to take pictures of.

cracked and peeling paint in the setting sun

As I was finishing up my photos of the green building, two guys rode past on their bikes. The first guy and I exchanged pleasantries–“Hello, how are you, fine and you?” The second guy, though, was a trip.

“You look so good,” he entoned as he closed the distance between us on his bicycle, “I could kiss you!” He then made the requisite kissing noises.

I had to laugh. “Thank you!” I said.

He rode on a short while, then slowed and glanced over his shoulder. “Can I leave a phone number?”

“I’m married,” I grinned, waving my rings.

“Aw, man! I’ll never find a good one! It’s like I’ve got a plague!”

I chuckled sympathetically as he and his friend rode on. As they moved off into the distance, it occurred to me that I could take a picture.

The guy who hit on me is the bright red spot. ;D

At this point, I noticed some joggers on the other side of the canal. It looked like whatever they were jogging on was paved. I snapped a picture of the apparent trail.

Not much farther down the trail, I saw a beautiful area across the canal, framed by trees. I turned my bike around and headed back to the perfect spot to get the picture, completely befuddling a woman who was out walking the trail (I passed her, and then turned around and passed her the other way). As I was maneuvering into position, I noticed a guy on the opposite bank, fishing. So I took his picture, too.

Here’s a picture of the skinny bridge, so you can see what it looks like. I was actually trying in this picture to get a shot of the guy on the lower bank; he had a fishing pole, and the framing would have been great if he would have cooperated with me. (I suppose I could have asked…)

Unfortunately I was unable to get a good shot of the bridge itself, partly because Mari called at that point to tell me she was on her way to pick me up to go shopping. I had something like 30 minutes to get all the way back to the Savannah Rapids Pavillion, get Syuusuke strapped to the car, and barrel home, so pictures, much to my chagrin, became my last priority.

My ride back averaged about 10 or 11 mph. I was really pushing it. I’m not entirely sure where that energy came from. I passed the two overpasses for River Watch and I-20. I went over the train tracks and through the construction, inadvertently slipping my bike chain and having to pry it back on with gloveless fingers. I passed the beautiful riverside area where Brooke and I want to have a picnic one day. I passed the quarry. I passed so many things I wanted to take pictures of! But the sun was setting (the flash on my camera had been going off automatically), so even if I had taken my time to get pictures, they wouldn’t have come out properly. My camera does not fare well at dusk (or at night at all, really).

Besides, the rush to get back was good exercise :D

That last long trek up the hill past the visitor’s center was murder. I shoved Syuusuke up towards my car in near desperation, managing to make it before my quadriceps completely gave out on me. I flung Syuusuke onto the rack, strapped him in, almost dropped the odometer on the ground, and fell into my car. Then I was blazing a swift trail down to Fury’s Ferry Road, where of course I was caught in rush hour traffic :D

Mari called me while I was waiting for the light to change at the left-hand turn for Davis Road. I got home shortly thereafter, saw that she was on the phone, wrestled Syuusuke up the stairs (where did the power to do this come from? Adrenaline?), tore off my workout clothes and threw on the outfit I’d worn to work, washed the bicycle chain grease off my hands as best I could, and flew back down the stairs.

Mari then got off the phone, told me her evening plans were cancelled and that we could take our time, and asked if she could use the bathroom XD

We tromped back upstairs and I took the time to fix my hair and wash my hands properly. Then, once we were all settled, we headed out for some fun shopping (well, browsing, in my case): Burlington Coat Factory, T.J. Maxx, and then Hot Topic and Spencer’s at the mall.

Those evil fingernail guys trapped us, too…I hate those guys! This time, I kept my hands in my pockets the whole time, and was borderline rude. Mari put up with it much the same way I did when it happened to me. She was polite, she let him give his spiel and buff her nail, and then said she would think about it and come back.

Then we escaped!

After shopping, we were both pretty hungry, so we headed over to Kinja Sushi Express off Washington Road (according to their sign, “The Best Sushi in Town the WORLD!”) for dinner. Some green tea, a bowl of miso soup, some edamame, an order of tropical luau rolls, a piece of creamed scallop nigiri, a few teriyaki and salmon rolls, and a delicious order of unagi nigiri later, I was quite the happy camper. I got Sean some philly rolls and eel rolls, and Mari dropped me off at home.

Putting all the food and exercise into DietPower, it seems that I have somehow, miraculously, broken even.

So yeah! It’s been a good day :D

I’m hoping Brooke and I can go to the canal trail tomorrow, and maybe do some more exploring…she has to work at 4 I think, but hopefully we can get a decent amount of wandering around done between the end of my work and the beginning of hers. I definitely want to go back over there for more pictures!

And I am totally up past my bedtime. Good night!

An overwhelming wistfulness

Have you ever had a feeling come over you so suddenly that you had to stop what you were doing and just stare off into space so you could digest it?

My computer’s regional settings are on Japan, meaning that not only do I have the Input Method Editor (IME) sticking out over my system tray, but also the date displays in Japanese when I hover my mouse over the clock, like so:

If you can’t tell, that’s in the format 2004-year 10-month 23-date Saturday-day. Those year, month, date, and day things are “counters”…basically little suffixes that quantify what you’re talking about. I also have the time set to the 24 hour clock, because they use it in Japan a lot.

This has the effect of giving every day a Japanese connotation; when I hover over the system clock to check what day of the week it is, for example, I have to read it in kanji.

Today I was checking the date. I thought it was the 23rd, but I wanted to be sure so I could date a chat log appropriately. I hovered over and saw the 10月23日 and thought, “October in Japan.”

The thought totally stopped me. I lost track of what I was doing. My eyes roamed away from the monitor, unseeing, as I imagined a sea of tiny red maple leaves. How beautiful they must be. I’ve never seen them in person.

Then I was suddenly sad, because I can’t see them, I can’t go to Japan right now and look at the changing colors. I can’t go back to Miyajima and that exquisite ryokan, where the mama-san called Sean and me “handsome man” and “pretty girl” and wished us a “happy baby”, and walk the skinny road down the mountain to see how the lush, verdant forest looks in the fall.

On faith

All fear of hell ever did for me was keep me from giving up Christianity.

The reason I didn’t do things like smoke, drink, have sex, sneak out of the house, etc. when I was younger was because I was too scared to–both of the danger of doing those things, and of the repercussions of getting caught. I hated punishment, of course, but I hated disappointing Mom and Dad more. My goal was to make them proud of me.

Of course, I wasn’t exactly pristine. I started getting weird ideas when I turned 15 and found Bulletin Board Services like The Night Watcher. In fact, the first time I considered sneaking out (but didn’t do it, of course), was because I wanted to go to a party hosted by a BBS friend, and I didn’t think Mom would go for it.

There were also private things that I was going through that made me truly hate myself. I don’t know why, but I never quite bought the absolution from all sins thing. Either that, or I was too prideful to accept it. I didn’t want to need to be forgiven. I thought I was a sucky Christian, and because I was unable to force myself to be worthy–or I was too lazy to do so, as I often thought–I was absolutely miserable. The whole thing about not having to be worthy, because “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God”, well, that just didn’t apply to me, because I was supposed to be better than that.

It was those things that started me down the road to losing my religion–and getting cancer, facing death, and surviving was what gave me the courage to actually discard it. Because, yes, for years I was forcing myself to “believe”, out of a fear of hell. There was a moment in the hospital when I had a fever of 105. I remembered Mom saying that you could die from a fever that high. As I lay there, closing my eyes against the dizziness, feeling my consciousness floating hazily around, I thought, “I could just go ahead and die.” And for the first time, it didn’t scare me.

I don’t think I ever actually stopped believing in God, though, because I hated him for years thereafter. My most frequent question was, “Why did he let me live?” At the time, I didn’t see the point. Not if I was going to be childless.

Sean was the one who pulled me out of my despair and gave me a reason to live. Seriously. He forced me to stop moping around, to embrace life, and I am so glad he did. I wouldn’t have any of the wonderful things I have now if I’d continued on like that.

So now I consider myself agnostic, because there might be a God and there might not, and I have no idea what the nature of that God is. I at once like and dislike the idea that “everything happens for a reason”. If there was a reason for me to have cancer and to become possibly sterile, I don’t know if I find that comforting. I can think of two huge “reasons”: so Dad would stop drinking, and so I could meet Sean. And those two things are great, and you’d think I could live with making a sacrifice for such wonderful things, but I’m selfish. Everyone who reads this journal knows how much I want kids.

Having cancer also gave me the time to learn web design, and kick-started my college career after a relapse. So these are also plusses. But in the face of never being a mommy, those things seem pretty pale.

If there is no reason for anything, on the other hand, then that puts the responsibility on me to add meaning to my life, and I’m scared that all I’ll do is drop the ball.

At any rate, I don’t think I can ever go back to Christianity. My self-destructive personality does not thrive under that religion. I don’t know that I will never go back to religion in general. The unitarian universalists, for example, are pretty interesting. Right now, however, I just feel like I want to let things “sink in” some more.

I’m so upset and unhappy right now.

Sean says that I tend to have periods of depression that eventually pass. I guess I’m in one of them now. I hate my job and the thought of going back in tomorrow makes me want to cry. The thought of not being able to find a new job does make me cry. I feel trapped and helpless, like I can’t do anything except commit to things I hate in order to have the money to make myself feel better by buying things and eating out.

Every time I try to start something up to better myself, I do really well at first, and then I just taper off until I’m doing nothing again. It was that way with FlyLady, it was that way with my workouts…my house isn’t a mess, but it’s not exactly stellar, and I have to force myself to even empty the dishwasher. Meanwhile, my stomach keeps growing and growing and growing. All clothes are uncomfortable. I keep thinking that I could be pregnant, which is impossible, and thinking about it being impossible makes me more unhappy. Even if I somehow did manage to be pregnant, we couldn’t afford to have a baby. We spend every bit of our paychecks and we have no savings.

But since it’s impossible for me to actually be pregnant, now I’m thinking that I must be having a false pregnancy, wherein my body, acting on cues from my subconscious which thinks about having a baby all the time, decides that, well, maybe there is a baby in there, and responds accordingly.

Mari says that stress causes weight gain in the stomach, so that could be it, too :P

Either way, I’m tired of it, tired tired tired tired tired. I want to scream, and I want to go to bed forever. I also want to kick my boss in the face.

Lots of posts to the Diary of My Childhood page

Sean’s away at his LAN party this weekend, and I’ve basically spent all my time home alone. I haven’t felt like going anywhere or doing anything, other than a quick trip yesterday to pick up dinner. I have had some oatmeal today, but I’m not sure what else I’m going to eat.

Yesterday I spent awhile reading Jennifer Government, and I watched BSSM 35 and 36 and two episodes of Hikaru no Go (the introduction of Mitani). Today I didn’t really feel like doing any of that, so after piddling around online for awhile I pulled out all my old diaries and started looking for interesting entries to post to my site. That’s essentially what I’ve been doing all day, since around 11 am.

When making posts to my Diary section, I try to keep the look and feel the same as what I have in front of me, be it notebook paper or a computer printout. I leave the typos and misspellings in on purpose. I’ve considered adding some notes in brackets, but ultimately I didn’t want to disturb the flow.

The first item I posted was sort of a brief autobiography that I wrote in 1992. I was fond of starting out new diaries with longwinded explanations of myself.

It’s interesting to me how much I apparently used to like pizza. It’s also interesting how I sort of blew past important issues, like Kitty’s cancer, and obsessed over silly things like TV shows and bragging about my academic achievements. That’s youth for you…

The second one is a bit of a departure. It really illustrates how unhappy I was at my new school. I remember that day vividly. Those girls I got to “play” with were popular, and I didn’t think that I was worthy of them. Having them spend time with me seemed like an amazing gift. At the same time, I felt that I didn’t really fit in, and that I shouldn’t be intruding. It was a horrible way to feel, even if I was ecstatic about it.

This is just silly. I think Lion-O is AJ, Panthro is Dad, Wily Kat is Ben, and Cheetara is Mom. But I’m not sure, because typically AJ and I were Wily Kit and Wily Kat, so maybe Ben was Lion-O. Anyway, I’m not sure why I was pretending we were all Thundercats, but I recall that we used to do that a lot.

I wonder what I was in trouble for. Isn’t it funny that going to bed was such a horrible punishment?

I found the entry where I wrote about Alex, the guy I basically led on during the Beta Convention in Louisville. I was just so confused back then. I didn’t know how to act, and I didn’t think I was attractive. I was afraid he was going to take advantage of me, too. I remember Michael telling me at the time that Alex was probably just as scared as I was, but I didn’t believe him.

Michael was probably right. I wonder what else he was right about, back then.

Here’s the “resolution” (as it were) of the Alex saga.

Apparently during GSP, it was very important that cute guys find me interesting. (Who am I kidding? It’s probably still a factor to this day ;>)

I cracked up laughing reading this. My attempt at reproducing Jane Austen’s writing style didn’t go too badly, did it?

I vaguely remember that guy, Jason McN. There’s a picture of him in the GSP yearbook. I think I only liked him because he was cute.

(I should explain that jing-a-ling-a-ling thing…Dad’s friend Kenny used to sing a country song that went “I’ve got some change in my pocket goin’ jing-a-ling-a-ling”, but back then I always thought he was saying “keys” instead of “change”.)

Here is the first place where I mention my belief that Matt G. liked me. As you can see, I was being superficial and stupid, and avoiding what my own feelings might have been. Rather reminiscent of the Alex situation, isn’t it? (And yeah, his looks were a ridiculous reason, because as anyone who has visited his website knows, he is totally hot.)

A theme in some of my younger posts is having milk-and-cookies before bed. This was probably not a very good idea. Food seemed to factor hugely in my life when I was a child.

In this particular post, I mention writing a story. I don’t know where that story is or what it’s about. I also mention something called a “G”, and I have no idea what that is. And finally, I must say that when I came across the line “When I grow up, I will live in the wilderness.”, plunked right in the middle of the entry with no reasoning whatsoever, I laughed out loud.

Yeah, I ate a lot as a kid.

When you’re a kid, you can draw posters for absolutely no reason and it makes perfect sense.

I remember that Bangladesh project. Most vividly, I remember making a traditional Bangladesh dessert. The name was something like “barfy”, which we found amusing to no end. I left the leftovers in the Geography classroom, where a moronic student in a later class period licked it all off the pan. Mr. Ash was really apologetic, and he cleaned the pan for me, but that didn’t curb my ire one bit. I had wanted to eat the leftovers!!

This entry mentions obliquely an interesting thing that happened when I transitioned to middle school. When I had first come to public school, for fourth grade, I was pretty much an outcast. I found everyone to be mean and selfish, and so I’m pretty sure that I was snobby to them. This resulted in me getting picked on a lot. When I finally found some friends, they weren’t the popular kids, they were sort of geeky–and yet not good students, either. They were good friends, though, and I appreciated them.

One of those friends was Melissa, who lived down the street from me and therefore rode the same bus. We were best friends through fifth grade.

Then, in sixth grade, I got into the higher level classes, while Melissa stayed in average ones. I met Noelle Mitchell, who was smart and friendly and sweet, and she became my new best friend. At the time I wasn’t thinking about how I was jilting Melissa…it was just that I really liked Noelle and wanted to spend time with her. So, basically, I spent a lot of time being mad at Melissa for not “accepting” that Noelle was my best friend now. (I was a real gem, wasn’t I?)

Oh, and the Mark fellow I mention…he was sort of my boyfriend. Kind of. I remember he came over to my house and we hugged once. :>

Here, I actually mention making that wish that I could go into other “dimensions” where fictional characters live. I also mention Governor’s Cup, which was something that really made me feel special and unique. (I ended up with a really big head in middle school, though…)

Three breakfasts! O_O

I still have my binders of TMNT and Darkwing Duck stories. I should type them up sometime…but it would be a project, as there are quite a few of them.

I knew that I was in the bad habit of sneaking food, but I didn’t remember ever collaborating with AJ on such a project.

I don’t remember who Bruno Leon is. Obviously that’s a chosen name for some guy in my French class. Surely that’s not his real name. (My chosen name in French class was Julie-Alice. Duncan, aka Mr. Make My Heart Skip a Beat Why Don’t You, was known as Xavier.)

All that “drama” with kung fu class really bothered me at the time. I believed that our instructor could do no wrong back then. It took awhile; the original students all dropped out and my friends and I became the highest ranked in the class before I started to realize that he was just as fallible as the rest of us, and that I didn’t like the direction he was going. I would like to do something like kung fu again someday, but I think I will end up being really picky about joining a class.

And that’s all of them for today. I may post more later, but I’m tired of typing them out ;)

It’s been fun revisiting my memories, especially the younger ones, because I think those are hilarious. The teenage ones are pretty enlightening, too.

I think I spent today doing this because I wanted to retreat into myself for awhile. I’m not looking forward to tomorrow. I am going back to work, but I’m not sure what will happen.

Wish me luck.

July 22, 1995, 12:45 a.m. – Governor’s Scholars Program (17 years old)

Geez, it’s the last day! And 14 min after midnight! And I’m going home in 10 1/2 hours! For good!!

I’ve just been reading this journal and it doesn’t even begin to adequately describe my experiences here. It barely scratches the surface. Hopefully the sigs & messages in the back, along with my scrapbook, will help me to remember. In the meantime, I’ll try to highlight my fave moments:

The Star Wars movies, July 16, 17, & 18. There were some tense times concerning those. “Star Wars” went off without a hitch, but “Empire” wasn’t rewound & I barely found the projectionist in time for “Jedi”! Whew! But I pulled it off. Now I’m basically famous. :)
Being named “most radical” in my hall, July 20. This occurred basically because I dyed my hair red. (Pink would be a more accurate term :).) Right now I have a moon tatoo on my neck. Nifty. But today the girls on my hall kinda flashed F2…I didn’t really care to get in on that!! Oh well, can’t be totally insane…:)
Hanging out with Shannon. She’s basically my best friend here, and we’ve spent most of our time together. We’re in astronomy, so we shared some cloudy cowfields.
Astronomy. We never, ever had a clear night in a cowfield. Ever. So we didn’t get to do as much as we should have. But we can’t control the weather…meanwhile, we watched tons of great movies, like “2001” and “Stargate” and “Darkstar” and “The Day the Earth Stood Still”. (Klatuu Baratta Nikto, It’s so quiet in here, Doolittle – Tastes like chicken! – The earth was without form, lifeless, and I was pleased – Let there be light! – I wouldn’t do that if I were you…) – and of course we must have some Star Wars quotes: “Will somebody get this big walking carpet outta my way?” “I have a very bad feeling about this.” “It’s not my fault!” “Free us, or die.” “He’s no Jedi.” “Many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our own point of view.” “Strong am I in the Force…but not that strong.” “Once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny–consume you it will!”
Hanging out with Matt, Mike, and Shannon. Much to your surprise, I did NOT spend all my time sulking and drooling over guys. (It just happened that I only wrote in my journal during those times.)–testing a new pen…—
DAMN! Stupid pens’re running outta ink!!
Playing piano. I used music to express my feelings when I needed to–it was great.
Talking to Doug Griggs. My problem-solving teacher is so cool. I love him! He’s insightful & thoughtful. His class has been very challenging! :)
Seminar. It’s been fun, once I got over Drew. Well, I probably won’t be totallyover him, but at least I’m not panting after him.*INSERTED THOUGHT*: tonight (last night) was the Final Banquet. We sat w/Focus Area. I was across from Matt & next to Shannon. Mike was next to Matt. I was about to mention something about looking for cute waiters when Matt yelled at me, “Stop lusting!” I couldn’t stop laughing for at least 5 minutes. See, spending time with Matt is great fun!!
*ANOTHER INSERTED THOUGHT*: Matt wrote that he had something to tell me before we leave. I wonder what he meant. What could he say? I’ve thought that maybe he’s fallen for me, and I wonder how I’d react. I like Matt, but I don’t know if I like him that way. I don’t know if I’m hung up on looks, or what. But then again I don’t know if that’s what he wants to tell me or not.

I remember we were sitting on One-Tree-Hill one night talking about love. He said he’s never been in love. I told him about my semi-Duncan love. He said that he was sad about never getting a close relationship with a girl. The thought entered my mind that I could learn over and kiss him and change his life. I know I blushed, and I certainly restrained myself. I don’t even know if we like each other.

But anyway…:)
Picture-taking. I’ve managed to take some good pix, and I hope they’ll be sufficient to help me remember GSP.
Scrapbook. I’ve been saving little items and these I’ve put in a photo album. I’ll put photos in the front. It’ll be cool.

Gonna stop now!

June 25, 1995, 6:08 pm – Governor’s Scholars Program (17 years old)

The reader will pardon me, for any change he may see in my writing; for I have adapted my style, to coincide with that of Jane Austin, whose novel, I have finished this afternoon.

In the abovementioned novel it is obvious when two people, are going to be married. There was no surprise at the end, but a happy end notwithstanding. I find that in my life, it is much harder, to perceive the affexions of a member of the opposite sex; their behavior is to me, very baffling. And so it is to no great surprise, that I am dateless this evening for the Showcase. It is not necessarily a fete requiring an escort, but on my part, the escort, will be sorely missed. I refer of course to a particular person, the attentions of whom I have no cause or right to expect, yet my heart longs after him. But after such a grievous mistake as has been made the evening previous, I doubt he pays me any mind at all, except occasionally to shudder, at my impudence and silliness.

I saw him today at dinner, but dared not join him, for I knew none that were in his company; approaching him, therefore, would be forward. I ate in solitude, trying not to allow my eyes, to wander to his table. This was all in vain, since not looking at him is quite impossible.

As I left the room I greeted him in the least civil manner without being rude, and his greeting of me, was matching in its abruptness and apparent lack of interest. I am certain, that he is quite worried to speak to me, as I have lowered myself in front of him so plainly and stupidly. I cannot realize that he may never return my affections, for my life has always been filled with unrealised dreams.

This being said, I would like to assure the reader, that I am perfectly happy with my station in life, and although it brings me sorrow to think that I may always be an old maid, I will try to do a service, to my position in society.

* * *

That was interesting, was it not? Writing it, I had to vary my expressions to match those of Austen; not extremely difficult, although it did require me not to cite actual conversations.

The violins and trumpets hail the approach of Darth Vader, and the reader knows I listen to the Imperial March.

After such a digression it is hard to go on without reciting some anecdote from the Star Wars universe; but I will restrain myself.

If the reader has been intimate with me the past few days, he knows that the preceding Austen passage’s pivotal point has been Jason [full name redacted], although I feel it necessary to mention that I did not have his full name memorized, I had to look it up. So there!

This, of course, proves nothing. Being a fairly absent-minded person, I can admire things of which I know not the name (Awkward sentence, just to avoid a dangling preposition–though I suppose it would be considered everyday speech in Austen’s time.)

As a matter of fact, I admired Jason for two or three days without knowing his name.

I wish I could just take him aside and say, “The first time I saw you, you smiled at me, and I can be quite the assuming person, so I thought there could be a chance of something between us. But recent events–including my realization that you never think about quantum physics–have made me realize that you were only smiling at me in a friendly way, as you smile to everyone. I am not saying that a relationship between us is an absurd idea; I’m saying that I read too much into a look. I am not in love with you–I’ve never been in love with anyone. However, you do seem to be a well-rounded person and very likeable, and I would certainly enjoy continuing your acquantaince, though certainly without any hidden desires or silliness on my part. All I desire is a friendship, and it bothers me when my assuming nature drives so many people who could be my friends away.”

Whew! I have never in my life been able to vocalize my feelings of that nature with so much accuracy and yet so much discretion.

–To be completely off the subject, the original version of “The Asteroid Field” is horrendous and I’m glad John Williams was able to fix it.–

Well. I certainly have had a lot to say. I was going to write about MP, since Rebecca Shoemaker remarked that Jason reminds her of him. (This news, of course, put me almost into a state of shock. If I were a weaker person, my heart probably would have failed and I would have spent the rest of the 5 weeks hospitalized. What I know of MP, and the extreme circumstances the two of us had an enormous chance of being involved in, is enough to still scare me out of my mind. I can tell you one thing–I’m glad I’m not [his wife], to be sure!)

But. I don’t feel like writing much longer. I wish to go mingle with the commoners, so to speak. Before the Showcase, which starts at 8. So I’ll put my keys in my pocket (goin’ jing-a-ling-a-ling) and be on my way. Adieu!

December 3, 1994, 6:26 PM – Beta Convention (16 years old)

Is it vain to love your own eyes? Mine are so wonderful, and it’s so great to have contact lenses so that other people can see them.

They’re a lovely shade of blue-grey, speckled almost but gradual enough to be a fuzzy conglomeration of color.

When I came to this convention I didn’t think I’d have much to write about. Turns out I have lots to say but no time to say it in!

Gotta go, but will return. -general assembly & dance time!

8:55- I’m back, & I’m not a happy camper. I was so excited before, but now I’m depressed. The thing w/Alex…I didn’t get to run for president…I didn’t win in Creative Writing. Barf! I must have next to no talent whatsoever. Occasionally I come off with a good line, but the rest of the time I must stink. (At least in timed writings!)

The reader doesn’t know about the thing w/Alex, does he? He’s a guy who kind of picked me up yesterday when I was depressed. I don’t feel like going into the details at this position of the earth’s rotation. Why? I’m just too depressed, bud.

So will I go to yonder dance? I haven’t any idea. I was going to go & wear my green pants outfit, but now I’m not too sure.

Want to know why I hate pictures? I look ugly when I smile.

I really do. I have a fat face and when I smile, all the fat pouches up and hides my eyes. I would have decently-accentuated cheekbones if I wasn’t so overweight.

And to think that this book was supposed to be a romantic tale of the life of a teenager. Tragedy sells, to be sure, but that’s not the kind of autobiography I wanted to write. Well, that’s life, and things never turn out exactly the way you expect them to. So I might go to that dance and actually have a good time. But most likely I’ll just get more depressed, because I’m not a very outgoing person. Oh well–going to try on my pants outfit now. —

9:13- I’m reverting back into the self-destructive hatred of Heather Aubrey of my sophomore year.

I hate myself! I was so rude to Alex, my writing sucks, Michael never really wanted to date me in the first place, I’m fat, I’m ugly, I’m stupid, and I cry over ignorant things. Like I’m crying now.

I’m such an awful person! No wonder poor Alex never tried to find me after last night.

My hideous ponch sticks out so far I look terrible in my beautiful pants outfit. My waist must be ten inches more around than it should be.

And I thought my creative writing piece was good. Just shows that I’m stuck up to boot.

I want to call Mom. I think I’ll try. No reason for her not to be home, unless she’s at work :(

Can’t. These phones don’t call long-distance.

My butt is so huge! And my flabby face dwarfs the only good thing about me (my eyes), so even they’re not beautiful.

I’m not going to eat dinner tonight. I need to lose weight. I’m so ugly. Maybe if I lose 15 pounds I’ll look good, but it will probably take more than that. (15 off would only put me at 135, and the average girl of my height should weigh 115. I’m lame, huh, weighing 150 now. That’s 35 pounds I have to lose, and of course, I can’t do it.

I’m so lazy, dumb, procrastinative, unmotivated, lethargic…I’d need a Thesaurus to cover all the facets of my horrible self.

It’s awful being this way and a perfectionist too. Being down on myself makes me even more unattractive than I already am.

Alex was such a nice guy! I’m such an idiot! He was caring enough to offer a depressed girl a place with him at dinner. (That would be me.) He was sweet enough to give someone a quarter to use the telescope out on the river.

He liked Star Wars!!

I’m such a fool!

I was consoling myself earlier with the thought that I’d never see him again, but that’s cruel.

I need to go to the dance and find him. Sitting up here rotting over self-hatred isn’t going to do me any good. I have to make amends for treating him the way I did!

11:27- I couldn’t find Alex. Plus, I had a horrible time at the dance, per my prediction. It’s probably my attitude. I expect to have a bad time, and it happens. Maybe someday I’ll be able to go to a dance and actually enjoy it.

I’d have to be outrageously thin though, so I could “shake it” without flopping my fatrolls. Yuck! Michael says he’ll teach me how to dance if I ever want to learn. I might take him up on that.

I was getting suicidal earlier. I hate that. Thought it stopped my sophomore year. But no, it started again this year. Great.

I think it’s George coming. Perhaps my bad thoughts will go away. I’m already feeling better because I took 2 Midols.

Malinda (one of my 3 roomies) brought a guy back to the room. Just like I brought Alex back here yesterday. That’s so sad.

I think I’ll go try to find him again, & then mingle w/ my friends. He should be leaving tonight.

Tennis was a go!

Paul and I managed maybe half an hour of tennis in the sweltering (and I do mean sweltering) heat. The sweat was literally pouring. It was good, though.

We went swimming afterwards, until Sean came home. Then we all ordered Wife Saver and had it delivered (yay 2go-Box!) and watched Aishiteruze Baby 11. Poor Kokoro-chan…:( Just because she’s a “big girl” doesn’t mean she doesn’t get lonely. Kippei needs to get a clue and tell Yuzu that she has to share.

I smell distinctly of chlorine.

Downloading Sailor Moon 36 right now. Can’t wait! but will have to anyway.

DAY ONE

The alarm went off at 5 am, offering me just enough lucidity to have to go to the bathroom. As I stumbled out of bed and hit the snooze button, I thought dreamily about how I would crawl back into bed, and how maybe I should set the alarm ahead to 6 so my sleep wouldn’t be disturbed.

As I sat on the toilet, however, I realized, Oh yeah, I have to get up and exercise, because I look like a beached whale.

(I realize that isn’t a very nice thing to say about oneself–and I know my friends, and Sean [who said some very nice things about the way I look last night], would disagree, but it was motivational, so I don’t regret it.)

I turned off the alarm completely, gathered up my cell phone, glasses, and wedding rings, and left the bedroom.

Last night, in order to prepare for today, I laid out my work clothes and my workout clothes on the dining room table. This was a very good idea, and I should keep doing that. One of the most time-consuming things in the morning is trying to pick an outfit, and it’s doubly annoying because Sean is asleep and I don’t want to disturb him. Doing it the night before (something that FlyLady suggests) solves both problems.

I pulled on my new yoga pants and a blue shirt, both of which I bought yesterday at Wal-Mart. I grabbed my camera bag and put my cell phone and keys in it, and picked up my 3 pound handweights. Then I hung my kitchen timer around my neck and set it for 45 minutes. Finally I was off, heading out of the apartment for a nice brisk walk around the complex.

I made the circuit twice, moving my arms around with the weights in alternating motions, trying to work as many muscles as I could think of. By the time I was finished with my second lap, my arms were feeling the burn.

Coming around to the final stretch, I went into the workout room at the apartment office, where I managed the stair climber for 5 minutes (yow), and then did some stomach crunches and leg lifts. To finish off my workout, I hopped on the treadmill and did some very fast walking.

I may actually have time to hop in the swimming pool after my workouts, which might be something I want to try sometime. This morning, though, I hurried back to the apartment, made Sean’s lunch, emptied the dishwasher, took my shower, and made my Slim Fast for the morning. Now I’m off for work, so I’ll grab my lunch Slim Fast from the fridge, leave Sean’s lunch in the bedroom where he can see it, and head off.

I’m feeling a little sore, especially in my upper back (I think from all the handweight stuff I was doing), but I also feel fairly energetic. I’m going to keep this up!

More the bomb than ever before

I may have led you to believe recently that I was, in fact, the bomb. And this may very well have been true at the time. But I tell you that now, more than ever, do I not only claim, but rightfully own the title of The Bomb.

Today I managed to bike all the way to the end of the trail and back and still make it up the dreaded Hill at the End.

I simply refused to fail, for over eight miles.

Mari, Kelly, and Brooke were with me. It was a really nice day, not too hot, and since we rode later in the evening the sun wasn’t really bright either. Most of the trail is shaded by beautiful trees, but in some places you come out into the light–today, those times were perfectly fine, as the sun didn’t so much beat down on us as just kind of bask us in its glow. The perfect weather for exercise.

I didn’t go particularly fast, but I wasn’t a slowpoke, either; sometimes I was towards the end but a few times I was leader of the pack. I did stop for water–lots of water–but the breaks were short and rejuvenating, and for the most part it was me getting on the bike and pulling out first.

I guess today I just really felt like riding.

Media bias; plus, what I’m up to

I love it when Den Beste points these things out. What you see or read on the news really is just a matter of how the news organization wants to frame the information they’ve received.

I finished off Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban with time to spare before seeing the movie last night. I must say, it’s my favorite book so far. That may have tempered my opinion of the movie, too, because I came away from it feeling like it was the best of the three, while Kelly was far less impressed.

Regardless of whether or not the movie is actually good, I stand by my opinion that the soundtrack is the best of the Harry Potter music, and is indeed the best from John Williams that I’ve heard in awhile. The man is my idol, musically, but of late he has taken to essentially plagiarizing himself. (For example, of all the music in The Phantom Menace, the only truly unique theme was “Duel of the Fates”. For a more relevant example, the main theme we hear when a Harry Potter movie opens or is advertised is almost exactly the same as a spooky, magical little melody from Hook.)

Having blown through three Harry Potter novels, I’m starting to feel like a real reader again. In fact, tonight I finally started reading The Time Traveler’s Wife…and it is really, really good. I’ve missed being a reader; I haven’t been voracious about it since sometime in high school. The only thing I don’t really like about reading is having to handle the books. There is no comfortable way to read. I have three typical positions, which I switch off as I get uncomfortable: on my back, holding the book over my face; on my stomach, with the book resting on my pillow; and sitting cross-legged, leaning down towards the book. Depending on the size and weight of the book, lying on my back, which is otherwise the most comfortable position, can be a true hassle.

I don’t particularly like reading things of novel length on my computer, because I have no real way of stopping. It’s not like I can put a bookmark in exactly where I want to (although I don’t know about ebook software, and whether or not this is possible with that). I have read in the La-Z-Boy we got from Sean’s parents, and it works out okay: I can prop my elbows on the armrests, which is something of a relief to my arms. Maybe with a pillow in my lap it would work out…

It might be fun to take a book over to the workout room at the apartment clubhouse and read while walking on a treadmill. I may try that at some point; more exercise would definitely be a good thing.

Work has been much better than it was on Monday and last week. I’m not sure what my problem was, but at least part of it can be attributed to hormones and lack of sleep. Yesterday I had something of a bad experience on a call, but I refused to let it bother me. I was pretty impressed with myself afterwards. If it had happened on Monday, I’m not sure what would have happened.

Mari and Brooke and I were supposed to bellydance today, but things didn’t work out. Hopefully we will be bike-riding tomorrow, and maybe we can squeeze in some bellydance too. I would like to get myself on a regimen of going through all the basic bellydance motions, several times each, every day. I got the idea from Mari; it would be a fantastic aerobic/muscular workout. Now I just need to figure out what time of day I want to do it. I would have time in the morning if I got up at 5 (like I usually try to), but I would also have time right after work, in the “dead” time between then and when I have to start making dinner. I suppose I could just dedicate myself to doing it during one of those two times.

I need to go grocery shopping and pick up some meat for the week, and vegetables. Perishable food is the bane of my existence…I have trouble actually using it up before it goes bad. At the same time, though, I really want to start eating fresh foods, and stop using packaged/processed products.

As a final note…I found a couple new blogs to read recently. One belongs to a 17 year old and the other belongs to a 73 year old. I found them through Blogger’s new profile feature…I have “emotion” listed as one of my interests, and out of curiosity I clicked it to see if anyone else had used that word too. Interestingly, only a handful of people came up. Of those, I found myself drawn to these two: goei and rare.

rare has a sort of rambling, stream-of-consciousness, yet somehow practiced and beautiful flow to his writing, and yesterday he wrote something that really touched me, so I would like to share it.

I am the BOMB! (Warning: two references to children’s stories!)

So, bike riding was awesome. I didn’t have to stop and walk at all, including the very last stretch where we have to labor up a long hill just to get back to Mari and Kelly’s place. I have never made it all the way up that hill before. Always, I’ve tried to give myself some momentum, pumping hard to force my way up the hill, and always I have fizzled out long before I reach the top. This time, I didn’t even try to speed up; I just kept going at a regular pace (yes, slow and steady, like the hare [tortoise! I meant tortoise! Sheesh, and I call myself a TMNT fan…]). Towards the end I was really pushing myself. I was almost there…I was almost there…it was like the Little Engine Who Could or something. And then I was there, and Mari and Kelly were congratulating me, and my legs were burning with the sweet pain of success.