Some things never change

Some things stay good, like God, love, and cheesy chili burritos. Other things stay sucky, like government, love, and Murphy's Law. Yet, whichever way you look at it, some things just stay the same.

After all this time on Facebook, I've just now managed to track down a handful of my old friends and classmates from the elementary/junior high days. To those few of you who don't remember life before Facebook, it used to be really sad to leave school because you'd lose all of your friends. When I was a kid, we didn't HAVE cell phones or social networking. Good lord, that makes me feel old :|

I was so happy to find those that I have, though. My PCCA days were so free and easy compared to adult life and I rather enjoy looking at their names and reminiscing about when stepping in the mud after a rain was the absolute worst thing that could happen to me.

So what has stayed the same?

ALL MY OLD FRIENDS ARE STILL PRETTIER THAN ME!!!!! It's so not faaaaair. They could be like models or something! How is it possible that all the prettiest girls in the town wound up in the same place?!?! And then stayed that way! C'mon, throw me a bone or something!

I sound shallow. Really, I don't mean for it to be that way at all. I'm really quite proud to have such smart, pretty, and successful friends and classmates. When we were all together in school, we never thought about that kind of stuff. Looking back at where we all were and where we are now has made me really thankful for knowing them all then because they're so out of my league now. They're all in college -- I'm a flunky. They're all normal -- I'm bizzare and unstable. They're all going somewhere in life -- I'm a singer whose dreams are larger than her talent. It's sad for me, but I'm so happy for all of them!

Maybe a few more years down the road and we can have an official reunion and talk about everything we've done or HAVEN'T done, in my case. I think I would like that.

Sumimasen!

The path to becoming a cannibal

This will probably be a really short post, but I just felt like writing something. Aren't you special?

I have noticed myself developing a really bad habit over the last few months. I discovered that I subconsciously nom on my hand, finger, or arm. There is no telling how long I've been doing this since I just recently caught myself.

How could I bite myself and not notice, you wonder? Well, I have an abnormally high pain tolerance. I mean, there are times I border on CEPA. I can slice my leg open, slam my body into walls, and apparently chew vigorously on my appendages without ever feeling any pain. I noticed the new habit the same way I notice just about all of my unintentional injuries-- there was mysterious blood seeping from my hand. Upon closer inspection, I realized it was coming from obvious bite marks oops.

I'm beginning to think I suffer from cannibalistic tendencies. I know it's not vampire cuz I'm not biting and then sucking. With that out of the way, it HAS to be cannibalism. I only wanna nom. And nom I do. I wrote this because I was listening to music and thinking about a drawing and realized I was chomping away on my index finger again. Typing, fortunately, keeps me from doing it.

I wonder if I should see a shrink.

In other news, in honor of Soren-san returning home, I completed an elaborate drawing featuring him and Rollin-san! I shall have to wait until Monday to post it, though, because I won't have access to a scanner before then. You should look forward to it since I so rarely complete drawings and even more rarely post them I really suck.

Try to contain your excitement. Really.

Sumimasen!

I had a really awesome and clever title but I forgot it when I was struggling to remember my password, so this will have to suffice

After a looooooooooooong time two years to be precise, I finally FINALLY completely finished my book The Five Trials. Yes, I know that title sucks but I've always sucked at titles my blog titles are proof. If anyone has a better idea, do be so kind as to let me know.

In any case, I finally got it edited! I have a lot of down time at work since I am such an efficient worker and finish it all early so I did my best to suck it up and get the editing over with. I realized, after reading through the whole thing, that the ending was awful. It's a true story sort of, so I couldn't change the ending entirely, but I did update it and make it more accurate based on the most recent events and also my personal growth. All in all, it turned out to be better, more accurate, and less dramaqueeny that can be a word, ne? than it was originally. So I am quite pleased. I also went through and joined together a lot of my choppy, conjunction-started sentences. Now the whole thing flows a lot more smoothly.

I am in such a generous mood that I will, for a limited time, give this completed version of my precious baby to anyone who asks. As I'm still debating attempting publication or not, it may be your only chance to get your greasy paws on it although many people have read it already, you haven't gotten the new ending!

In other news, I finished chapter two of The Rogue Prince, the book I've mentioned in several posts now. This is largely in part thanks to Soren-san finally coming home! He's very cranky and difficult but this is normal. I'll eventually get some good ideas out of him. I'm just glad I can blame him again every time my writing sucks. Anyway, I shall start on chapter three tomorrow probably and we'll see how that goes. Pleeeeease, Soren-san?

I also had a wild thought about selling myself out and trying out for American Idol next season. I'm a classical singer, though, and I'd prolly never make it. By that, I mean I sing like Tarja Turunen and Sharon den Adel. Yare, it's so difficult sometimes. Stupid useless American music not respecting that kind of talent... I'll need to move to Europe to find a decent band.

I think I will go study my Japanese now.

Sumimasen!

the most boring blog title ever

Yare yare yare!!!!!!! I feel like kicking something. I finally have my writing program back but Soren-san is still missing and Rollin-san is being lazy... When they go missing or slack off, I'm not the only person affected!

Aoudin is so boring lately. No, Aoudin isn't a muse. He's the protagonist in one of my books (see two blog posts ago). Anyway, he's not that bright and Soren-san usually pokes and prods him along a more interesting path. Otherwise, all he wants to think about is fighting and women. Stupid spoiled prince. I really don't know what to do with him without Soren-san. I'm not great at writing through a man's eyes I don't know how they think but I've gotten "pretty good" reviews so far. But it's totally not me. It's Soren-san.

I'm sorry I complained about him. I miss him desperately.

Don't feel like writing much more for now. I think I need a cookie or something...

Readers and my inner bottle

... I think I have officially scared away everyone from my blog. I have to admit, it took less time than I thought it would! Yay, new record!

It doesn't matter, though. I'm using this mostly as an outlet for myself. The most frightening bit of it all is that I read my posts and then wig out, thinking of all the things I could have said differently, but won't edit because you can't take back things you say in real life.

To be honest, I wouldn't take anything back I've ever said. I'm pretty good about holding my tongue when I have to, even if it means breaking something when I'm alone in order to relieve the stress. While that may seem frivolous, you have to realize, I'm one of those "bottle" people. The kind that can go forever without ever backlashing or even seeming to be bothered by insults or abuse, but then violently explodes a while down the road when all that pent up aggression finally can't fit into the weak little container that is my body. When that happens, things get broken and people get hurt. In both senses of the word.

So instead of letting it get that far, I try to release it when I get it in some small way or another. Like breaking pencils or ripping up old A&M T-shirts Hehehehe. But I take care not to get other people involved.

Because when that happens, I don't need to be a supernerd to scare people away.

Book excerpt. Because I'll prolly never finish the whole thing.

This is an excerpt from my LOTR-esque specfic trilogy, The Aoudanian Chronicles. I finally managed to get my writing uploaded on my new computer, so I'm back in business if Soren-san would ever come home! I managed to write a little today, but I couldn't focus without him and the Idea Well in the Fifth Plane of my Inner Mind has totally run dry. It'll be another full moon before it refills *sigh*.

Without further ado...

------------------------------------------------

Chapter One, Book Two

There are a lot of things that are fun to dream about doing without ever having the slightest desire to actually accomplish them. After all, every child loves hearing the tales spun of the heroes of old who vanquished evil kings and demons with their bravery and strength, but once you’ve become a young man, the fancies and longing to go and do those historic deeds become unrealistic. In the real world, no one can be sure if he’s going to survive the epic charge into the fray of battle or win the heart of the fair lady he so desires. You realize that even though the troubadours recite countless tales of might and magic, no one ever remembers the real people— the failures who were just as brave but not quite as lucky.

By all standards, I was one of the lucky ones. I was born into the most prominent royal family on the continent, the eldest son of the very classically brave King Bervian Anldar Everic of Pavathia who had united his nation with the country of Hyrodoc by his marriage to the storybook-beautiful princess Severah Aerina Rainoch. I suppose my parents were the closest thing to a fairy tale there still was left in the world.

But the stories never tell you what to do when you’re the product of a fairy tale ending. When there’s no way you could ever measure up to the great things your parents did, even if it was just to get married. The story always ends. And, naturally, it always ends well. No one wants to hear what happens afterward. No one wants to hear about the four children that died at birth or that one of the three surviving children died in an accident, leaving his twin devastated. No one cares that the beautiful princess never quite regained her cheerful spirit after the deaths of her children or that the brave warrior king was injured and could no longer compete in his favorite sport. That’s the end of a tragedy, not a fairy tale.

So no one cares.

Instead, they refocus their attention on me.

The only surviving son.

I used to wonder why it had to be me, why I had to be the one that lived. The Hyrodish people had never been particularly fond of me. Though they respected my father, they never truly loved him the way they loved my mother, who was one of their own. Many of the common folk still held prejudice in their hearts against their black haired, green eyed Pavathian brethren. My father was “foreign,” as were my younger sister Thei and I. We were always “them” to the Hyrodish. My younger brother Flein, Thei’s fraternal twin, had taken after my mother’s blond, blue-eyed Hyrodish side, and had been much loved until his accidental death.

I don’t bother wondering why he had to die anymore. Discovering a reason wouldn’t bring him back. Whether it was fate or chance, Flein had died and I had lived. There was nothing to do but deal with it. I didn’t care if the people didn’t love me. They were stuck with me until I died. Then they would be stuck with my legacy.

Sometimes, I outnerd myself

Sometimes, I also don't care and today is one of those lovely days.

Part of me--the same part that is both terrified for the Death Note movie and yet incredibly excited-- was extremely hesitant about the live action series of "Yamato Nadeshiko Shichi Henge" (AKA "Perfect Girl Evolution" AKA "The Wallflower" AKA "My Fair Lady"). However, since I had a day off for the first time in over a week, I decided to suck it up and try it out for size.

Now, I am so happy. Somehow, TV managed to successfully capture most of the essence of the only romantic comedy I have ever loved. The actors were brilliantly cast (except for Noi Kasahara), especially actor Shuntaro Miyao (yes, pronounced "meow"), who plays smooth ladies' man Mori Ranmaru. He hasn't had enough screentime IMO, because he's been great, especially in comical scenes with the Landlady. It makes me very excited for the adding of Tamao Kikunoi, his arranged fiancee. The writers added a main character, which usually sends me into a fury, but Takeru, the Landlady's son, is so insanely adorable I can't hate his addition (episode 5, screaming at the ghost -- epic cute) and they wrote him seamlessly into the cannon. And there are just two words to describe Kyohei's actor: Kazuya Kamenashi. Win. Aya Omasa plays Sunako beautifully, retaining even the hilarity of the animated Sunako's superchibi form just by small motions that make you forget she's not two and a half feet tall and ridiculous. All the actors play their roles flawlessly and the screenwriters did an excellent job of holding true to the boys' personalities, though they're struggling a little with Sunako.

In addition, they follow the original stories extremely well, pulling all of their inspiration from the author's work. They do mix and match the stories so their one hour long episodes will be full, but since PGE has no official timeline, the stories CAN be meshed. I was even happy to see Yuki's girlfriend Machiko make a comeback after her obvious absence in the anime (due to her character and image being based off one of the author's assistants, also named Machiko).

I actually have only a few superfan complaints about it, and that's rare for me. One is a big one, they are rushing Kyohei and Sunako WAAAAY too much. They were at the point in episode two where it took them 98 chapters to get in the manga. Part of what made me love the story so much WAS the realistic, slow character growth. They HAVE to go through a vicious mutual hatred period before they're friends or it just isn't cannon. Two, Sunako is portrayed a bit weak. Instead of taking charge like she's supposed to, it takes being repeatedly called "ugly" by Kyohei at least once in every episode for her to act. I wonder if we'll see that fixed... Three, they kept the best parts, but still cut out a lot of the comedy. I miss it desperately. Although Sunako screaming "Br... Bright!" and knocking Kyohei out with a headbutt constantly is better than her cannon nosebleed at times. And a scene based on one of my favorite chapters when Kyohei kisses Sunako to try and scare her out of a hallucination caused by a mushroom and she roundhouse kicks him across the room made me laugh more than I should have.

The moral of this story is, if you can stand to watch a television show with subtitles, I suggest you check out yamato nadeshiko shichi henge. It's good for people who think they're too good for the original manga (and nothing beats the fresh-off-the-author-originals) or the anime. It's better for those who were scared by the weirdness of both the manga and anime.

Official manga summary:

It's a gorgeous, spacious mansion, and four handsome, fifteen-year-old friends are allowed to live in it for free! There's only one condition-that within three years the guys must transform the owner's wallflower niece into a lady befitting the palace in which they all live! How hard can it be?
Enter Sunako Nakahara, the agoraphobic, horror-movie-loving, pockmark-faced, frizzy-haired, fashion-illiterate recluse who tends to break into explosive nosebleeds whenever she sees anyone attractive. This project is going to take more than our four heroes ever expected: it needs a miracle!

Plumbing Wars

I swore I wouldn't just journal about my life because I usually don't think it's anyone's business what I do during the day. But today was the final straw in a series of unfortunate events that I just HAVE to share my misfortune in order to let off steam.

As an Associate Manager, it's my job to accompany the boss(es) on any and every tirade they might undertake. Today, that meant attending the West Texas Homebuilder's Association luncheon. Yes, it is as boring as it sounds. However, since I'm only twenty, I was determined to look professional and impress everyone.

This is hard to do when your hot water heater has a personal vendetta against you.

I'm one of those people who loves to have a scalding hot bath, then top it off with a scalding hot shower. I know technically it's bad for your skin, but since I reject sunlight and always either stay inside or hide under an umbrella when I'll be outside for extended time, I figure scalding my skin just puts me on a level playing field with tan people.

In our previous house, we had two hot water heaters: one upstairs and one downstairs. Not only that, but they were extremely efficient. They could be drained and reheated at ten minute intervals. I was in lavawater heaven.

Not so in this house. We have only one hot water heater for the whole house (normal, I know, but I was spoiled to fancy living) and it's so old, it makes that pokey old lady who always makes you late to work seem like a NASCAR driver. Not to mention, it has four temperature settings: Volcano, warm, cold, and subzero. Almost every day, I am stranded in the tub with shampoo in my hair and soap all over my body, praying to Heaven that a drop of hot water returns so I can wash myself off before I die of frostbite.

Which is exactly what happened today. I even tried to conserve hot water by taking only a lukewarm bath and then waiting thirty minutes before starting the shower for it to heat back up. Somehow, in the mind of my malicious hot water heater, I had still managed to use up my quota of warm water. It proceeded to spit it's customary subzero water out of the spigot, sending me into a raging fury. I was covered in soap scum and desperately needing to wash my hair. But did it understand? Of course not.

I then learned rule #1 about temper tantrums in the tub: Do. Not. Punch. Tile. It hits back harder than you can imagine.

So now, I have to go to the luncheon with sticky, soapy skin; greasy, unwashed hair; and a mysterious bruise on my hand.

I'm not really sure what to do in this situation or in future situations when I need to take a particularly good shower and can't (I should mention that even if I just take a shower, I still run out of hot water in like... three minutes.). I am at war with my plumbing and I must admit, I am being pwned.

This show brought to you by five kinds of awesome

I have that annoying Spongebob "Best Day Ever" song stuck in my head, but it's within good reason. I think I just HAD my best day ever. Or, at least, my best day in a very, very long time. Don't worry, I'll divulge into the details...

Skipping over the usual Thursday stuff, which is always great, I'll move right on to the Parabelle concert.

It didn't start off too great because the show itself didn't start until 10 PM when the paper said it would start at 9. So for an hour and fifteen minutes -- since I always arrive early for parking and standing space -- I sat and watched the basketball game on the big screen of the bar. Alone. Probably looking like a moron. When 9:30 rolled around, I seriously considered leaving. I was that frustrated.

Thank God I didn't. Sometimes being a superfan pays off in the end.

After an awesome local band opened up, Parabelle finally took the stage. I was, as usual, right up front ready to out-headbang every one of the members of the band. Little background, I am beloved by bands everywhere because I have no shame in dancing and head-banging with the big boys. In fact, I am usually the one who gets the crowd going. Just a small service I perform that usually gets me free stuff after the show.

Anyway, the concert.

Being the energy bubble I am at shows, the band members usually get encouraged to play with the crowd-- mostly me. At a Hawk Nelson show a few years back, the bassist came down off the stage and danced with me. At Parabelle, the beyond kickass (and gorgeous) guitarist, Kyle, would come to the edge of the stage, kneel down, and sing with me. Or fistbump. I absolutely love it when they play with me. Makes me feel like I'm part of it instead of just watching it.

In addition, during the first song ("The Pursuit" yay for old EB material!), bassist Chris got nailed in the head by a guitar and started pouring blood everywhere. Don't worry, he was ok. After all, it's not rock&roll until someone bleeds. He just covered it and kept playing, though his poor bass got the short end of the stick. The strings were totally red and bloodied by the time he was finished. It was cool visually, but I feel for the bass.

Kevin's voice is flawless in person and the new, unreleased songs they played whetted my appetite for their new album. I asked Kyle about it later, but he said they're only doing preliminary recording right now. Sadface. I guess I'll have to wait. But I'll be one of the first to order! Mark my words!

Like all good things, it had to come to an end. Although, to be honest, if it hadn't, my head prolly would have fallen off. I'm actually writing this with a heating pad on my upper back and neck because I can barely move them. Totally worth it, though. Anyway, like I always do, I had to go around and talk to the band. I cornered Kevin first since he's like my lyrical idol. He was really distant. It was weird. Usually, bands are really chatty to the fans, but he wasn't. Maybe he was intimidated by Texans. Who knows. But I did get him to sign my new Parabelle shirt.

I actually couldn't snatch Chris, though I guess he was putting something on his head. I talked to Kyle for quite awhile and got a picture with him because singing and playing with him is part of what made it so fun. Then random people kept wanting to get pictures with us. Yeah. Us. Even though I kept saying I wasn't with them, they wanted me in it. I was suddenly very glad I had just gotten my hair done yesterday, because when I show up on random people's facebooks, at least I'll look hot.

In the end, only Kevin and Kyle signed my shirt, but that's ok cuz I already have the CD autographed...

Right now, I am very sore and very tired, but happier than I've been in over a year. I don't even think I'll regret being sore in the morning.

A new talent

After whining about not being the best at anything, I discovered a talent I never knew I had.

Linguistics.

I have a passion and talent for learning languages.

I don't know why I never thought about it before. I was trying to talk when I was 6 months old and always had amazing scores in English. In fact, my SAT for writing/english was 795 the first time I took it -- five points off from perfect. I guess I just always thought it was my affinity as a writer.

Turns out, it was my linguistics talent.

I'm not magical. I can't just learn any language quickly by listening for awhile, but I do pick it up quickly if I study it. Probably because I actually enjoy studying it. Recently, I've been trying to learn Japanese, which I think is a fascinating language. It confused me at first, but after studying sentence structure, I began picking up words and phrases. That lead to me signing up for daily study material. Now, I spend hours every day pouring over it.

I don't necessarily know that I want to take classes. I rather enjoy the feeling of accomplishment I get when I learn something new or figure out something. It's like a complex puzzle in my mind. One that I love to solve.

I've learned enough now that I can read it a little providing it's written with germanic letters, since it'll take years to learn kanji and katakana symbols -- there're thousands. Understanding it at this level is amusing me as I pick apart my study material.

Take this sentence for example:

"Utsukushii aozora o aoide mita."

My material says it can be translated to English as:

"I looked up at the beautiful blue sky."

However, since "ao" means blue, the word "aozora" means "blue sky" and "aoide" just means blue. So the sentence is actually closer to:

"I looked up at the beautiful blue sky that was blue."

That's a bit redundant for a language that is supposed to be quick and concise haha.

See? This is fun to me. Learning and pulling apart all the fibers of a language.

Too bad it's fairly useless as anything more than a mental exercise and fun hobby.