Well, I am officially never coming out to my grandparents.
Ever.
Things got a might bit awkward in here when the news of the progress on the DADT repeal started playing across the TV, the local news station informing us all that the only step left was ObamaLlama's signature. This was something I had already known, of course (I keep up on these things!), so I'm smiling like an idiot. I've been supporting this repeal whole-heartedly for months, and to see it be THISCLOSE is exciting, at the very least. Meanwhile my grandparents are getting more and more sullen, all unhappy at the TV and the knews it brings.
I was slightly obliviouse to their mood, and chattered about how the bill was so close, so close!
To which my grandmother sighed and said, "Yes, it's sad. It's going to make things so much harder on our men in our army."
Oh. Right. This is when I remember my grandmother is homophobic. Stupidly, I plow on with a, "Why?"
"Well, they don't need the gays in there sleeping in the same places as all the men."
The gays. I can hear the obviouse distaste in her voice while she uses such a catch all term. We continue the conversation, while I insist being gay doesn't make people automatic manwhores, she reveals that Norm (her husband, my step-papa, I guess) was come on to by a man when he was in the service. I don't even know how to respond to that, and let the conversation drop.
But now, I keep turning it over in my head, and I can't believe people let one encounter with a douche bag completely colour their perception of all members of a minority. That would be like me justifying racism by the fact I was mugged by a group of black teenagers.
This is disapointing. I'm disapointed in my family.
Keeping fingers crossed, ObamaLlama has to let this one through!
Monday, December 20, 2010
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Webcomics
(I know I promised Brandon I'd blog about something else. Sorry, I'll get to that. Eventually.)
I am a Webcomic Person.
Here's a list of what I follow:
El Goonish Shive
Questionable Content
Misfile
Hanna Is Not A Boy's Name
Oglaf
XKCD
Venus Envy
Johnny Wander
And those are just the ones I keep up with on a daily basis. There are many others outside of that list that don't update regularly enough to warrant regular checking. Outside of that I follow One Piece, Bleach, and Hourou Musuko as they come out scanlated online as well. But they're professional comics and don't count towards this topic.
I love comics. For me it's more than just a juvenile form of entertainment, comics are an art form and a window to story telling, a unique way to spread creativity and enjoy a good story. You see people obsessed with good novels all the time, they pick 'em up and just can't put them back down; they may even write their own. I'm that way with comic books.
Wecomics are special. Webcomics are a raw and often first attempt at entertainment; most webcomic artists who made it big never expected to make it. The beginning of webcomics often suck.
Webcomics are an over-time thing. Reading through any large archive you can see the vast improvement these improvised artists and story-tellers undergo. The updating schedule of a webcomic forces the artist/author to draw and write consistently, they are a MINE of practice. So it's only natural that over time such growth occurs.
I'm really bad at explaining all this. But Webcomics are pure magic to me. Fascinating magic.
Anyone can write a webcomic. That's the biggest part. Every successful Webcomic artist out there started as a Nobody With Too Much Spare Time, but then, their comic became them. It became a huge part of their life that they cared about, and then it became something really, really good.
The web is the new indie platform that anyone can handle. Since the comic book artists have discovered publishing online, the field has opened up for countless talented individuals to shine. It doesn't have to be a full-time job any more; artists can reach an audience without professional publishing.
I love being that audience. I love becoming completely enthralled with their story. I love the pure love these comicers put into their work.
I never would have given many of my webcomics a chance if I held them to the same standards I hold professional works, but I don't. I don't need to - this is the internet, these people are not proffessionals, and because of these facts I've learned to give the beginning strips of webcomics the slack they deserve. By rolling out this slack in the beginning I've been able to meet many beautifully fleshed-out characters I would never have given a chance.
Again, I love Webcomics.
Every artist has a story to tell, and the Grand ol' World Wide Web gives them that chance.
I am a Webcomic Person.
Here's a list of what I follow:
El Goonish Shive
Questionable Content
Misfile
Hanna Is Not A Boy's Name
Oglaf
XKCD
Venus Envy
Johnny Wander
And those are just the ones I keep up with on a daily basis. There are many others outside of that list that don't update regularly enough to warrant regular checking. Outside of that I follow One Piece, Bleach, and Hourou Musuko as they come out scanlated online as well. But they're professional comics and don't count towards this topic.
I love comics. For me it's more than just a juvenile form of entertainment, comics are an art form and a window to story telling, a unique way to spread creativity and enjoy a good story. You see people obsessed with good novels all the time, they pick 'em up and just can't put them back down; they may even write their own. I'm that way with comic books.
Wecomics are special. Webcomics are a raw and often first attempt at entertainment; most webcomic artists who made it big never expected to make it. The beginning of webcomics often suck.
Webcomics are an over-time thing. Reading through any large archive you can see the vast improvement these improvised artists and story-tellers undergo. The updating schedule of a webcomic forces the artist/author to draw and write consistently, they are a MINE of practice. So it's only natural that over time such growth occurs.
I'm really bad at explaining all this. But Webcomics are pure magic to me. Fascinating magic.
Anyone can write a webcomic. That's the biggest part. Every successful Webcomic artist out there started as a Nobody With Too Much Spare Time, but then, their comic became them. It became a huge part of their life that they cared about, and then it became something really, really good.
The web is the new indie platform that anyone can handle. Since the comic book artists have discovered publishing online, the field has opened up for countless talented individuals to shine. It doesn't have to be a full-time job any more; artists can reach an audience without professional publishing.
I love being that audience. I love becoming completely enthralled with their story. I love the pure love these comicers put into their work.
I never would have given many of my webcomics a chance if I held them to the same standards I hold professional works, but I don't. I don't need to - this is the internet, these people are not proffessionals, and because of these facts I've learned to give the beginning strips of webcomics the slack they deserve. By rolling out this slack in the beginning I've been able to meet many beautifully fleshed-out characters I would never have given a chance.
Again, I love Webcomics.
Every artist has a story to tell, and the Grand ol' World Wide Web gives them that chance.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
How about an OBJECTIVE review?
I wrote the following review for a post on Baka-Updates Manga. It is much more professional and objective. But I personally think it's less fun to read. 8D I mean, everyone loves listening to me complain, right? .....Right?
MANDATORY TRANSGENDER DISCLAIMER: If you are homophobic, or bothered by Male-To-Female transgender, you will NOT enjoy this Manga! If you are interested in transgender characters, you may have a problem with the objectification Yuki goes through, but Yuki herself is an enjoyable character! If you are unable to suspend your disbelief and accept that Yuki looks female, and must have a microscopic wee-wee to look like that in a pair of panties, you will not enjoy this manga!
Now, on to the review...
My reactions to this Manga, in order of appearance:
Interest -> General Boredom -> Loving Yuki -> Despising and Loathing Masato (Main Male Protagonist) -> Loathing the Manga because I loath Masato -> Getting everything I wanted for the ending, and reluctantly admitting No Bra wasn't as bad as I thought it was.
I read through No Bra in the course of one day, and I am reviewing it on this same day, while the whole thing is still fresh in my memory.
No Bra starts off Okay. It's all pretty typical of an ecchi manga, and I have no problem with it. It's average. Not good, not bad, but passable and worth reading.
The characters were generally two-dimensional but funny or likable. The protagonist's fat best friend is a huge sweet heart. The homeroom teacher is over-dramatic in a funny way. The main female love interest was uninteresting, but not badly so, and she did receive some character development in one of the chapters (you read that correctly, one). The best character, by far, was Yuki. While Yuki's standard behavior was purely stereotypical as the "perfect" Japanese woman, she was treated and written as a believable and fairly-realistic transgender.
The art was average. I wouldn't say it's bad, compared to what else is out there, but it's nothing special. There are a gratuitous number of panty shots, along with a good chunk of other like-minded fanservice. There are two almost-sex scenes, but no real sex, and nothing is shown explicitly. I would say, roughly speaking, the first half of the manga contained more Yuki-centric fanservice, while the second half contained more Kaori-centric fanservice. As a fan of Yuki but not Kaori, I have personally amassed thirty-or-so pages I felt worth saving to my hard drive. Take that as you will.
The writing is boringly predictable in most areas, and surprisingly twisty in some. Unfortunately, if you're reading through these reviews, you've probably already had all the twists spoiled for you. In an effort to conserve the number of spoilers, I won't be going into this topic any further.
There are several chapters, beginning some time after Chapter 16 and ending around Chapter 25, where the point-of-view protagonist is a manwhore. He uses and abuses the three women around him, and it all makes me want to STRANGLE him. I'm sure that many male readers, and less empathetic female readers, would be able to take this as standard ecchi-protagonist behavior. But, honestly? It's pretty bad. Masato is genuinely selfish to the point of cruelty, and he is such for roughly half the Manga. However, Your Mileage May Vary. You're either going to hate him, or you won't really care.
The ending spans four chapters. It does, indeed, feel rushed. With that said, the ending is sadly one of the stronger points in the writing. However, most (if not all) of the loose ends were tied up, and it does end happily (In that gooshy, sentimental, at-least-one-character grew for the better sort of way). I liked it.
The final verdict:
No Bra was not fantastic. I can't even bring myself to say No Bra was enjoyable. Even more so, I can't recommend it as something most people will want to read. But, over all, there were a few good characters, and No Bra was not as terrible as I thought it was. If you have a life, skip this, it's not worth your time. There are better things out there to read. If you have a good six hours to spare with honestly nothing better to do... why not?
MANDATORY TRANSGENDER DISCLAIMER: If you are homophobic, or bothered by Male-To-Female transgender, you will NOT enjoy this Manga! If you are interested in transgender characters, you may have a problem with the objectification Yuki goes through, but Yuki herself is an enjoyable character! If you are unable to suspend your disbelief and accept that Yuki looks female, and must have a microscopic wee-wee to look like that in a pair of panties, you will not enjoy this manga!
Now, on to the review...
My reactions to this Manga, in order of appearance:
Interest -> General Boredom -> Loving Yuki -> Despising and Loathing Masato (Main Male Protagonist) -> Loathing the Manga because I loath Masato -> Getting everything I wanted for the ending, and reluctantly admitting No Bra wasn't as bad as I thought it was.
I read through No Bra in the course of one day, and I am reviewing it on this same day, while the whole thing is still fresh in my memory.
No Bra starts off Okay. It's all pretty typical of an ecchi manga, and I have no problem with it. It's average. Not good, not bad, but passable and worth reading.
The characters were generally two-dimensional but funny or likable. The protagonist's fat best friend is a huge sweet heart. The homeroom teacher is over-dramatic in a funny way. The main female love interest was uninteresting, but not badly so, and she did receive some character development in one of the chapters (you read that correctly, one). The best character, by far, was Yuki. While Yuki's standard behavior was purely stereotypical as the "perfect" Japanese woman, she was treated and written as a believable and fairly-realistic transgender.
The art was average. I wouldn't say it's bad, compared to what else is out there, but it's nothing special. There are a gratuitous number of panty shots, along with a good chunk of other like-minded fanservice. There are two almost-sex scenes, but no real sex, and nothing is shown explicitly. I would say, roughly speaking, the first half of the manga contained more Yuki-centric fanservice, while the second half contained more Kaori-centric fanservice. As a fan of Yuki but not Kaori, I have personally amassed thirty-or-so pages I felt worth saving to my hard drive. Take that as you will.
The writing is boringly predictable in most areas, and surprisingly twisty in some. Unfortunately, if you're reading through these reviews, you've probably already had all the twists spoiled for you. In an effort to conserve the number of spoilers, I won't be going into this topic any further.
There are several chapters, beginning some time after Chapter 16 and ending around Chapter 25, where the point-of-view protagonist is a manwhore. He uses and abuses the three women around him, and it all makes me want to STRANGLE him. I'm sure that many male readers, and less empathetic female readers, would be able to take this as standard ecchi-protagonist behavior. But, honestly? It's pretty bad. Masato is genuinely selfish to the point of cruelty, and he is such for roughly half the Manga. However, Your Mileage May Vary. You're either going to hate him, or you won't really care.
The ending spans four chapters. It does, indeed, feel rushed. With that said, the ending is sadly one of the stronger points in the writing. However, most (if not all) of the loose ends were tied up, and it does end happily (In that gooshy, sentimental, at-least-one-character grew for the better sort of way). I liked it.
The final verdict:
No Bra was not fantastic. I can't even bring myself to say No Bra was enjoyable. Even more so, I can't recommend it as something most people will want to read. But, over all, there were a few good characters, and No Bra was not as terrible as I thought it was. If you have a life, skip this, it's not worth your time. There are better things out there to read. If you have a good six hours to spare with honestly nothing better to do... why not?
Saturday, November 27, 2010
"No Bra" Review... Part Two.
Go read the first part of the review, then read this.
[HUGE SPOILERS. AHOOOOY!]
....Okay.
.........I give up.
I'm a total woobie. And a sucker for happily-ever-afters.
No Bra ended well. With Masato realizing he was a total asshole, repenting, and working hard to help Yuki in the face of public scorn. Masato ended up happily and monogamously with Kaori. Hideki got a cute girfriend. Yuki learned to appreciate and accept herself, and live as a girl by her own power, confidently.
The ending was kind of cheesy.
But it was really happy.
And exactly what I asked for.
I'm not sure I can overlook the faults of the... entire... freaking... middle... of this manga, but it's not the worst thing I've ever read. There were some characterization parts that I really enjoyed, I just absolutely loathed the main character. When he reformed into a not-entirely-decent-but-trying-his-hardest guy... Well, my biggest complaints were solved.
I'm not sure I can say I enjoyed No Bra. Actually, there is a 1.8K review of scorn located directly below this post which claims, quite clearly, that I did not enjoy No Bra.
But I still like Yuki, Hideki, and Mizutani-sensei. I think the idealistic ending is encouraging, in it's own slightly-pathetic way. I would never tell a friend to read No Bra, but I can't say I'm hideously worse off for reading it myself.
[HUGE SPOILERS. AHOOOOY!]
....Okay.
.........I give up.
I'm a total woobie. And a sucker for happily-ever-afters.
No Bra ended well. With Masato realizing he was a total asshole, repenting, and working hard to help Yuki in the face of public scorn. Masato ended up happily and monogamously with Kaori. Hideki got a cute girfriend. Yuki learned to appreciate and accept herself, and live as a girl by her own power, confidently.
The ending was kind of cheesy.
But it was really happy.
And exactly what I asked for.
I'm not sure I can overlook the faults of the... entire... freaking... middle... of this manga, but it's not the worst thing I've ever read. There were some characterization parts that I really enjoyed, I just absolutely loathed the main character. When he reformed into a not-entirely-decent-but-trying-his-hardest guy... Well, my biggest complaints were solved.
I'm not sure I can say I enjoyed No Bra. Actually, there is a 1.8K review of scorn located directly below this post which claims, quite clearly, that I did not enjoy No Bra.
But I still like Yuki, Hideki, and Mizutani-sensei. I think the idealistic ending is encouraging, in it's own slightly-pathetic way. I would never tell a friend to read No Bra, but I can't say I'm hideously worse off for reading it myself.
"No Bra" Review
No Bra is a manga.
I'm not even sure where to begin. It's a horrible manga. It is the epitome of terrible ecchi manga.
Well, I guess I should begin by clarifying for everyone what an ecchi manga is. エッチ, otherwise romanized as etchi or ecchi, is a Japanese word that literally translates as "erotic", "lewd", or "sexy". It is used in context the same way we would use "dirty" or "naughty". Ecchi manga, while not always blatantly pornographic, is all about the fan-service. Expect panty shots, bras, boobs without bras, sexy women, sexy poses, shattered innocence, lots of making out, and generally piss-poor character development. And y'know what? I'm okay with that. That's what ecchi manga is.
But No Bra is so, so much more than that. No Bra is truly horrible.
The main character is a somewhat ugly guy living alone in his apartment, attending his first year of High School (equivalent to 10th grade in the American system). Then his father sends a room mate his way - he is expecting a guy, but gets the cute, adorable, beautiful Yuki. Yuki has a thing for "Maa-kun" (full name Masato) because Maa-kun was very kind to her in pre-school.
But Yuki is actually a boy.
For all appearances, Yuki is a girl. Not just any girl, but the *perfect* girl by Japanese standards. S/he is beautiful, wears dresses and skirts that while not quite "revealing" makes her look very cute, enjoys cooking and cleaning, is soft spoken (and CUTE), is thoughtful, is kind, is effeminate, is CUTE. Did I mention she's cute? For as far as I can see, Yuki is a MtF transgender. But she's still a "he", which causes problems for our protagonist.
Also, the protagonist is a complete pervert and can't get over staring at Yuki's panties when she's not aware of it. And sometimes when she is.
Okay, fine. I can live with that. Good premises for a romantic-comedy ecchi manga, in all honesty.
Then somewhere in there we get to delve into Yuki's background - which I love, by the way. Yuki describes her life before coming to live with Masato. She was always a "bit of a weird boy" as her mother called her. She had very long hair (anime style loooong), enjoyed wearing girls clothes, only ever liked boys. She was forced to wear the boy's uniform due to her genetic gender, and she hated it. Hatedhatedhated it in an entirely realistic way. To her it was horrible, felt terrible, being someone she simply wasn't. Beyond this, she was bullied and picked on for being who she was.
The only person she could remember ever being truly kind to her was Maa-kun. He was a huge friend to her in preschool ten years ago. He stuck up for her, had fun with her. They were best friends, but then Yuki had to move away. Maa-kun gave her a little Hello Kitty necklace, promising they would always be friends in their hearts.
Masato doesn't remember any of this. It was ten years ago, right? But the more of these specific memories he hears, the more Masato is absolutely certain that Yuki is mistaken He isn't Maa-kun. There's been a mistake.
And, y'know what else? I'm still okay with this. This is still good plot. Now, to explain the things about No Bra that piss me off.
There is another girl that Masato likes, the girl he liked before Yuki showed up. Kaori is the most amazing girl in the school, athletic and intelligent. Fine, whatever. He starts to go out with her. Again: fine, whatever.
He starts two-timing his Kaori and Yuki. He dates Kaori openly at school, and goes home to kiss and make out with Yuki. This is not OK. More so, this is after Yuki told our protagonist that she loves him, but she's fine just being his lover at home. Yuki is desperate. Masato is taking advantage of her.
Oh, right. And Masato isn't actually Yuki's childhood friend Maa-chan. So she thinks she's in love with her childhood friend, but it's really just some random guy taking advantage of her.
And meanwhile the protagonist is relishing in the fact that he's sooo lucky to be in this situation with two GREAT, wonderful, beautiful, kind girls all to himself.
Yeah, uh. Fuck no.
Masato decides he needs to find out once-and-for-all if he is or isn't Maa-chan. He finds out that YES, they actually went to the same pre-school! It's possible! There is no other "Masato" in this pre-school! But he's still not sure, so he spends an entire day walking around and looking up people who might remember a guy named Masato from pre-school, and whether or not he really did all those kind things.
What he finds out is shocking: Masato was Kaori's last name before her mom remarried. "Maa-kun" is actually his current GIRLFRIEND. She was really boyish in preschool, and she stood up for people, and she drew a giant picture of a dinosaur. And there's even a picture of her - and wow, there's preschool Yuki standing next to her!
And what does Masato decide, now that he has this new information?
He's not going to tell Yuki. He's going to pretend to be Maa-kun. To "save Yuki's feelings". Yeah. Uh. Right. It's pretty clear he just doesn't want to lose that hot chick he's making out with at home.
While we're not the subject of Yuki being a hot chick... Masato is constantly reminding himself that Yuki is a guy ("He's a guy! He's a guy! He's a guy! He's a GUY!"). And it appears he's fighting his disgust at homosexuality because... Oh, right. Yuki has a fuck-awesome ass. Not because she's a genuinely wonderful person (she is, by the way). But because he can't stop thinking about, and staring at, her panties.
Now lets add in the another female main character. Mizutani-sensei is Kaori, Yuki, and Masato's homeroom teacher. Sensei is up to her EYEBALLS in debt because she's a shop-a-holic, and a party-holic. Then she discovers that Masato and Yuki are living together! Oh no! The scandal! Sensei is suddenly very terrified this news will get out, and she'll lose her job because she's there homeroom teacher and didn't stop it! And then she won't have money! And then the loan sharks will come get her! And she'll be LIVING ON THE STREETS!
NOOOOOOOOOOO!
(Mizutani-sensei is a tad over-dramatic. I actually quite like her character.)
So, Sensei quickly turns the situation to her own devices, and black males Masato, saying she'll expose them and he'll get expelled! What does she want in return? She wants to live with them, to keep an eye on them and make sure they're not fucking at night! Why? Because she hasn't gotten any action in two years and she's BITTER! More than that, if she lives with them she won't have to pay any rent! SCORE.
As I said before: I actually quite like Mizutani-sensei. (: She's played as comedic relief, so while this sounds manipulative, and actually is, it's over-the-top and funny.
But. :( Then they have to go and ruin even Mizutani-sensei for me.
Masato grows a back bone eventually, tells Sensei she has to move out. Mind, he is only telling her this because if he does, he'll be able to have sex with his girlfriend at his apartment. Despite the fact that Yuki lives there, too? (I don't think this plan was well thought out) Fine, whatever. But them Sensei decides the best way to keep her place in his apartment is -
To seduce him and sex him up. Of course. Of fucking course. They have now reduced her character to prostituting herself for an apartment. Fuck you, writer. Fuck you.
So where does this put us?
The protagonist is three-timing the female main characters. He's dating Kaori, making out with Yuki, and planning to fuck with his homeroom teacher.
This entire thing is played out like he has absolutely no choice. The character has so little self-restraint that he is actually physically unable to resist their Sexy Charms (tm), even when he has repeatedly admitted he needs to break up with Kaori so he can date Yuki, or that he needs to stop taking advantage of Yuki because it's wrong, or that he shouldn't let Mizutani-sensei seduce him because it'll be bad for his relationship with Kaori...
He lets his penis drive him, completely. Which would be fine if his penis wasn't such a horrible person, whose soul goal is to fuck anything that moves. Oh, Wait! That's what penises do. Maybe he should try thinking with his brain for once?
Nah, too hard.
It is even to the extend that the main character will recognize that he is fantasizing about sex instead of paying attention to the fact that Kaori and Yuki are both wonderful people, and that this is a bad thing for him to do... and then he will continue to fantasize anyways.
No Bra is horrendous. The main character is, perhaps, the most aweful character in fiction I have yet to come across.
And I wrote Jaramiah.
You may be thinking, "Now, wait. Jaramiah was a creepy psychopathic bastard who cut people up for fun. While they were still alive. Aren't you exaggerating a little bit here?"
To that I respond: Masato uses and abuses three different women, but that's not it. It's the fact that he actively recognizes that what he is doing is wrong, very wrong, but continues to do it anyways. Because to Masato, sex is more important than the emotions of these women.
That's sick. And wrong. Compared to Jaramiah, who simply has no moral compass, I think Masato's recognition and then continuation of terrible behavior is even worse.
So, the big question...
Why the hell am I still reading it?
Because, I am still reading it. I'm 25 chapters in and still reading.
I want a happy ending for Yuki. Yuki is such a wonderful, kind, caring person that I want to see her happy.
Masato's best friend is a wonderful person, as well. Hideki is tall and fat, but he's a great guy. He has fallen for Yuki, but accepts that she is in love with Maa-kun, and just wants her to be happy. And so he does everything in his power to get Masato to realize what he has, and what he is waisting. For Yuki's sake.
Masato has shown, at least a very little bit, that Yuki brings out the best in him. When he's with Yuki, he wants to protect her. He wants her to always be happy, always smile, and will do whatever it takes. The problem lies in his roving penis....
I want to see a happy ending for Yuki and Hideki, not necessarily together, but each happy in their own individual right. I want to see Masato realize he's a fuckwad. I am sticking around to see what happens.
But No Bra is still the worst manga I've ever read.
I'm not even sure where to begin. It's a horrible manga. It is the epitome of terrible ecchi manga.
Well, I guess I should begin by clarifying for everyone what an ecchi manga is. エッチ, otherwise romanized as etchi or ecchi, is a Japanese word that literally translates as "erotic", "lewd", or "sexy". It is used in context the same way we would use "dirty" or "naughty". Ecchi manga, while not always blatantly pornographic, is all about the fan-service. Expect panty shots, bras, boobs without bras, sexy women, sexy poses, shattered innocence, lots of making out, and generally piss-poor character development. And y'know what? I'm okay with that. That's what ecchi manga is.
But No Bra is so, so much more than that. No Bra is truly horrible.
The main character is a somewhat ugly guy living alone in his apartment, attending his first year of High School (equivalent to 10th grade in the American system). Then his father sends a room mate his way - he is expecting a guy, but gets the cute, adorable, beautiful Yuki. Yuki has a thing for "Maa-kun" (full name Masato) because Maa-kun was very kind to her in pre-school.
But Yuki is actually a boy.
For all appearances, Yuki is a girl. Not just any girl, but the *perfect* girl by Japanese standards. S/he is beautiful, wears dresses and skirts that while not quite "revealing" makes her look very cute, enjoys cooking and cleaning, is soft spoken (and CUTE), is thoughtful, is kind, is effeminate, is CUTE. Did I mention she's cute? For as far as I can see, Yuki is a MtF transgender. But she's still a "he", which causes problems for our protagonist.
Also, the protagonist is a complete pervert and can't get over staring at Yuki's panties when she's not aware of it. And sometimes when she is.
Okay, fine. I can live with that. Good premises for a romantic-comedy ecchi manga, in all honesty.
Then somewhere in there we get to delve into Yuki's background - which I love, by the way. Yuki describes her life before coming to live with Masato. She was always a "bit of a weird boy" as her mother called her. She had very long hair (anime style loooong), enjoyed wearing girls clothes, only ever liked boys. She was forced to wear the boy's uniform due to her genetic gender, and she hated it. Hatedhatedhated it in an entirely realistic way. To her it was horrible, felt terrible, being someone she simply wasn't. Beyond this, she was bullied and picked on for being who she was.
The only person she could remember ever being truly kind to her was Maa-kun. He was a huge friend to her in preschool ten years ago. He stuck up for her, had fun with her. They were best friends, but then Yuki had to move away. Maa-kun gave her a little Hello Kitty necklace, promising they would always be friends in their hearts.
Masato doesn't remember any of this. It was ten years ago, right? But the more of these specific memories he hears, the more Masato is absolutely certain that Yuki is mistaken He isn't Maa-kun. There's been a mistake.
And, y'know what else? I'm still okay with this. This is still good plot. Now, to explain the things about No Bra that piss me off.
There is another girl that Masato likes, the girl he liked before Yuki showed up. Kaori is the most amazing girl in the school, athletic and intelligent. Fine, whatever. He starts to go out with her. Again: fine, whatever.
He starts two-timing his Kaori and Yuki. He dates Kaori openly at school, and goes home to kiss and make out with Yuki. This is not OK. More so, this is after Yuki told our protagonist that she loves him, but she's fine just being his lover at home. Yuki is desperate. Masato is taking advantage of her.
Oh, right. And Masato isn't actually Yuki's childhood friend Maa-chan. So she thinks she's in love with her childhood friend, but it's really just some random guy taking advantage of her.
And meanwhile the protagonist is relishing in the fact that he's sooo lucky to be in this situation with two GREAT, wonderful, beautiful, kind girls all to himself.
Yeah, uh. Fuck no.
Masato decides he needs to find out once-and-for-all if he is or isn't Maa-chan. He finds out that YES, they actually went to the same pre-school! It's possible! There is no other "Masato" in this pre-school! But he's still not sure, so he spends an entire day walking around and looking up people who might remember a guy named Masato from pre-school, and whether or not he really did all those kind things.
What he finds out is shocking: Masato was Kaori's last name before her mom remarried. "Maa-kun" is actually his current GIRLFRIEND. She was really boyish in preschool, and she stood up for people, and she drew a giant picture of a dinosaur. And there's even a picture of her - and wow, there's preschool Yuki standing next to her!
And what does Masato decide, now that he has this new information?
He's not going to tell Yuki. He's going to pretend to be Maa-kun. To "save Yuki's feelings". Yeah. Uh. Right. It's pretty clear he just doesn't want to lose that hot chick he's making out with at home.
While we're not the subject of Yuki being a hot chick... Masato is constantly reminding himself that Yuki is a guy ("He's a guy! He's a guy! He's a guy! He's a GUY!"). And it appears he's fighting his disgust at homosexuality because... Oh, right. Yuki has a fuck-awesome ass. Not because she's a genuinely wonderful person (she is, by the way). But because he can't stop thinking about, and staring at, her panties.
Now lets add in the another female main character. Mizutani-sensei is Kaori, Yuki, and Masato's homeroom teacher. Sensei is up to her EYEBALLS in debt because she's a shop-a-holic, and a party-holic. Then she discovers that Masato and Yuki are living together! Oh no! The scandal! Sensei is suddenly very terrified this news will get out, and she'll lose her job because she's there homeroom teacher and didn't stop it! And then she won't have money! And then the loan sharks will come get her! And she'll be LIVING ON THE STREETS!
NOOOOOOOOOOO!
(Mizutani-sensei is a tad over-dramatic. I actually quite like her character.)
So, Sensei quickly turns the situation to her own devices, and black males Masato, saying she'll expose them and he'll get expelled! What does she want in return? She wants to live with them, to keep an eye on them and make sure they're not fucking at night! Why? Because she hasn't gotten any action in two years and she's BITTER! More than that, if she lives with them she won't have to pay any rent! SCORE.
As I said before: I actually quite like Mizutani-sensei. (: She's played as comedic relief, so while this sounds manipulative, and actually is, it's over-the-top and funny.
But. :( Then they have to go and ruin even Mizutani-sensei for me.
Masato grows a back bone eventually, tells Sensei she has to move out. Mind, he is only telling her this because if he does, he'll be able to have sex with his girlfriend at his apartment. Despite the fact that Yuki lives there, too? (I don't think this plan was well thought out) Fine, whatever. But them Sensei decides the best way to keep her place in his apartment is -
To seduce him and sex him up. Of course. Of fucking course. They have now reduced her character to prostituting herself for an apartment. Fuck you, writer. Fuck you.
So where does this put us?
The protagonist is three-timing the female main characters. He's dating Kaori, making out with Yuki, and planning to fuck with his homeroom teacher.
This entire thing is played out like he has absolutely no choice. The character has so little self-restraint that he is actually physically unable to resist their Sexy Charms (tm), even when he has repeatedly admitted he needs to break up with Kaori so he can date Yuki, or that he needs to stop taking advantage of Yuki because it's wrong, or that he shouldn't let Mizutani-sensei seduce him because it'll be bad for his relationship with Kaori...
He lets his penis drive him, completely. Which would be fine if his penis wasn't such a horrible person, whose soul goal is to fuck anything that moves. Oh, Wait! That's what penises do. Maybe he should try thinking with his brain for once?
Nah, too hard.
It is even to the extend that the main character will recognize that he is fantasizing about sex instead of paying attention to the fact that Kaori and Yuki are both wonderful people, and that this is a bad thing for him to do... and then he will continue to fantasize anyways.
No Bra is horrendous. The main character is, perhaps, the most aweful character in fiction I have yet to come across.
And I wrote Jaramiah.
You may be thinking, "Now, wait. Jaramiah was a creepy psychopathic bastard who cut people up for fun. While they were still alive. Aren't you exaggerating a little bit here?"
To that I respond: Masato uses and abuses three different women, but that's not it. It's the fact that he actively recognizes that what he is doing is wrong, very wrong, but continues to do it anyways. Because to Masato, sex is more important than the emotions of these women.
That's sick. And wrong. Compared to Jaramiah, who simply has no moral compass, I think Masato's recognition and then continuation of terrible behavior is even worse.
So, the big question...
Why the hell am I still reading it?
Because, I am still reading it. I'm 25 chapters in and still reading.
I want a happy ending for Yuki. Yuki is such a wonderful, kind, caring person that I want to see her happy.
Masato's best friend is a wonderful person, as well. Hideki is tall and fat, but he's a great guy. He has fallen for Yuki, but accepts that she is in love with Maa-kun, and just wants her to be happy. And so he does everything in his power to get Masato to realize what he has, and what he is waisting. For Yuki's sake.
Masato has shown, at least a very little bit, that Yuki brings out the best in him. When he's with Yuki, he wants to protect her. He wants her to always be happy, always smile, and will do whatever it takes. The problem lies in his roving penis....
I want to see a happy ending for Yuki and Hideki, not necessarily together, but each happy in their own individual right. I want to see Masato realize he's a fuckwad. I am sticking around to see what happens.
But No Bra is still the worst manga I've ever read.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Why do I have to choose?
We live in a day and age of growing acceptance for sexuality and the defying of gender roles.
That is, it's okay to be transexual.
It hasn't hit mainstream acceptance, and there are still towns where you can get your ass killed for being an open and out transexual. But the seed of acceptance has been sown, and there are communities where it's okay to be who you are.
There's a choice.
You can identify as male.
You can identify as female.
And people will still love you.
But identifying as male or female is labeling yourself. And for people who want that label, that's fine. But I have a hard time seeing why I have to choose. I'm bisexual. I'm female-by-birth, and a butch dyke. For me the lines separating gender feel very, very thin. I honestly couldn't care less if you are male or female, I will approach you the same way (both in terms of friendship and attraction).
I like being a girl. I like being able to dress up and do girly things.
I like being a guy. I enjoy going out with my butch haircut an a bound chest and being treated like a male. Because there is a difference, whether you believe it or not.
And, on a sexual level that transcends what you really want to know, I find the concept of strap-ons enticing.
Male. Female.
I don't want that label. I'm not a f-to-m transexual, of that I'm sure. I like my lady-bits where they are. But I hate that I have to just be female. I hate that androgyny is less acceptable than transexuality.
Why do I have to be one or the other? Why can't I just be me? Why do I have to choose?
That is, it's okay to be transexual.
It hasn't hit mainstream acceptance, and there are still towns where you can get your ass killed for being an open and out transexual. But the seed of acceptance has been sown, and there are communities where it's okay to be who you are.
There's a choice.
You can identify as male.
You can identify as female.
And people will still love you.
But identifying as male or female is labeling yourself. And for people who want that label, that's fine. But I have a hard time seeing why I have to choose. I'm bisexual. I'm female-by-birth, and a butch dyke. For me the lines separating gender feel very, very thin. I honestly couldn't care less if you are male or female, I will approach you the same way (both in terms of friendship and attraction).
I like being a girl. I like being able to dress up and do girly things.
I like being a guy. I enjoy going out with my butch haircut an a bound chest and being treated like a male. Because there is a difference, whether you believe it or not.
And, on a sexual level that transcends what you really want to know, I find the concept of strap-ons enticing.
Male. Female.
I don't want that label. I'm not a f-to-m transexual, of that I'm sure. I like my lady-bits where they are. But I hate that I have to just be female. I hate that androgyny is less acceptable than transexuality.
Why do I have to be one or the other? Why can't I just be me? Why do I have to choose?
Friday, October 15, 2010
I Write Like An Artist
Let's talk about sensory description.
They get very good at this, and essentially are attempting to master the sense of sight.
You know the basics, there are five senses: touch, sight, taste, smell, and hearing. Each of these senses is unique and important on it's own, but they work in tandem with each other. The age old example: Scientists say that roughly 80-90% of what we taste is actually derived from smell.
As a writer it is extremely important to pay attention to all of the senses in order to envelope the reader in the world you have created. For living in a world where no one ever feels what it's like to touch something feels surreal, just sort of 'off'.
Now lets back up a little bit and talk about how artists (of the visual sort) create sensory experiences.
An artist uses images, and thus they get one sense: Sight. That cuts them down to 30% efficiency right off the bat. They learn how to bend and play with sight to create illusions of other senses, and even more powerfully, they learn how to connect images with emotion. Thats the big one: Creating an emotional cognitive response from the viewer, that's what an artist does.
They get very good at this, and essentially are attempting to master the sense of sight.
Now, hand that artist a word processor and a keyboard. Tell them to describe something. I guarantee you that they will primarily focus on the visuals, they will try to explain every intricate detail of what this item or place looks like. They will likely forget about the other senses, or at least pay far less attention to them. It's in their nature, it's how they experience the world.
What happens when this artist decides to write a book?
You can see the problem. An artist who is arting is all just fine and dandy, but an artist who is writing is at a disadvantage. It takes extra attention to remember to describe things in their whole, combining the senses takes more work.
I write like an artist.
Damn.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Procrastination Station
Guys, don't procrastinate.
Don't do it, it's not worth it in the long run. Sure, that project might be big and scary, or just a pain in the ass, and your email client is far more interesting...
But don't procrastinate.
I spent 12 hours yesterday finishing a project. Twelve. Hours. I worked from noon 'till one in the morning, with two half-hour breaks to clear my head and get some food. This is on top of school. (Admittedly, I did skip a couple periods at the High School. But I went to all the hard classes and my NIC course because I couldn't afford to miss them).
The end result is not the best work I could have done. There are some areas I know for sure could have been better. It's not bad; it's still quality work. But it's not my best and I am fully aware of that.
By procrastinating I short changed myself and what I could have learned, and I short changed my professor and what he was trying to teach me. Procrastination is more than me being fickle, it's also a loss of respect.
It's saying that you do not respect your teacher, professor, mother, instructor, boss, enough to give them the quality and attention they are asking of you.
Don't procrastinate, it's not cool.
And, on a completely unrelated note... I still want a camera. ;___;
Monday, October 11, 2010
Take Your Best Shot
I want a camera.
God Day-yum I want a camera.
I would like a decent camera, with good specs or whatever. But in all honesty I would be just as ecstatic to get a little easy 10 megapixel point-and-shoot baby camera. Why? Because I really want a camera.
Last Kumoricon I borrowed my Dad's camera to take pictures at the convention (see below, I never did finish those blogs...). I loved it. I loved figuring out lighting and angles and the art of transferring a moment of life into a little rectangle of representational visuals. I absolutely loved it.
I would be a fiend with my camera. I would be the sort of fiend that annoys the crap out of you because she's always snapping shots when you're not looking and would you PUT THAT THING AWAY. Yes. That sort of camera-toting, picture-taking fiend.
Sadly, a camera costs about 100$. That's a lot of money, a lot of hours. A purchase of this magnitude must be weighed and thought on before any decisions are made.
I've been looking around online, and so far this is what I've come up with:
Casio Exilim EX-Z16
This camera is a fairly new model out on the market, fresh out as of this September. It's 12 megapixels, a 2.7 inch display, and shoots video at a youtube affordable resolution of 640 x 480 pixels. It's also got that sleek sex-apeal thang going on with it's rounded off corners, small size, and general shinyness. Price wise it clocks in just barely under the hundred-dollar mark at 98$ and free shipping from Amazon.
Unfortunately, I'm not a camera person (yet) so I haven't a clue if that's a good deal for a point-and-shoot. I 'unno. We shall see.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Things That Make My Life Worth Living
Things that make my life worth living:
Card flourishes.
Singing along way too loudly (read: badly) to Lady Gaga.
Arguing whether Kesha or Lady Gaga write the more sexual songs.
Gay couples can get hitched in California again.
My dog.
Whipped Cream.
Swiss Rolls with Whipped Cream on them.
Chocolate bars with Whipped Cream on them.
Granola bars with Whipped Cream on them.
More Whipped Cream.
Secretly cashing checks in order to surprise my mom with an AWESOME birthday gift.
School plays.
Free paper.
My bangs curl naturally and it actually looks good.
The MP3 player I want to buy to replace my lost one is on sale this week.
Scott Pilgrim.
New toilet seats.
Bathrooms that no longer smell like vinegar.
FRC kick off is only 89 days away.
NaNoWriMo is even CLOSER.
New characters that pop up in my brain uninvited but loved nonetheless.
Manga is still as crazy and ridiculous as it's always been.
Apollo Justice is a good game, even if Investigations wasn't.
Eating YanYan for the first time ever.
Coworkers who pull their fair share.
Coworkers who pull their fair share and then some.
The new copy of Jump has a special on the war in One Piece.
My hoodie finally went through the washing machine, so I can wear it again.
Discovering awesome French singers: Yelle.
International music in general.
I've got a jar of dirt (two of 'em, actually).
Buttons.
Card flourishes.
The fact that I don't live in a third-world country.
Origami cranes.
Winning an argument against my dad.
The smell after it rains.
And most of all, my Faith in God.
You know what? It's OK if you have a bad day. It's OK. You know why? Because there are still a million and one reasons life is worth living.
And I'm thankful for every one of them.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Scott Pilgrim (The Comic Books)
Y'know what? I love Scott Pilgrim. I *LOVE* Scott Pilgrim. It's a comic book, if you're wondering. Six books long. I picked up the first in a book store the other day, and like, I had no money so I didn't get to finish it. This led me to... uh... *not* pirate all six volumes through downloading them off of a torrent's mirror. Anyways.
Let me say it again.
I LOVE SCOTT PILGRIM.
I just finished it? Can you tell? I love it, by the way, if I haven't mentioned that already. I mean, I didn't like the art at all at first. And I have to admit the art really was kind of sloppy in the first volume, but it was different so I thought I'd give it a try. And the writing is good. Really good. Like, it's this weird clash between a story and a comic and a video game, yeah? It's sort of crazy and rediculouse while manageing to feel real and worthwhile at the same time. That is a really odd and possibly unique mix.
My favorite character is Wallace. ♥
I think the ending was perfect. ♥
*spoiler alert*
I totally didn't notice when Stephen Stills came out in Volume 5, I mean, I had my suspitions, but I didn't give it much thought because I was so engrossed in Scott's head (and he was having other issues). So in that last scene with Stephan Stills and Joseph at the end of book six? My face mirrored Scott's. I had a total fangirl freak out, and then I laughed my ass of at the last panel of that page ("God, I hate your friends." ... "Seriously, get new ones.").
Yes. So. go read it. If you need a download link just ask. |D I can not give one out on my blog for fear of the legal implications of such an act.
On a related note, I really love fiction with legitimate gay characters. I mean, fiction that ISN’T Yaoi or Yuri by trade, but just happens to have gay characters in it as well as straight characters. They tend to have more realistic portrayals, and I love that. Love love it. ♥
It’s late, I’m giddy on comic-high, I need to go to bed. XD Ciao.
Friday, September 17, 2010
Target
I love books.
Target by Kathleen Jefferie Johnson.
It's about a teenage boy who was raped, and it is really, really. good. It sort of reminds me of Speak by Laurie Anderson - but not in that copy-cat, shadow-of-the-original way. It's more like, a similar situation with a different person. It feels individual and unique, but is the same 'kind' of story.
It's a short book, only took about four hours to read, but the characters are Real. They are people, not words on a page. On top of that the story telling is excellent, there were times where I was literally laughing out loud with how wonderful these guys were, and times where I was shriveling up because I just wanted to cry.
Very good book, I highly recommend it. It's one of those books that reminds me why I love reading so much.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
KUMORICON, DAY 1
Because it is...
KUMORICON, DAY 1.
(WARNING: The following post is IMAGE INTENSE, and not friendly to low-level internet connections!)
The day starts with waking up late. No one remembered to set the alarm clock, unfortunately. So we RUSH to get to the convention center, by the time we get there the Opening Ceremonies have already started. So we drop into the Pre Reg line and grab our badges, which takes about ten minutes rather than three hours, as everyone is at Opening Ceremonies. SUCH a blessing. We get to opening ceremonies as the Taiko performance is finishing up, so we're not too late, but we're way back in the nose bleed seats (thank god for cameras with telescopic lenses).
Then our awesome Master Of Ceremonies makes his way onto the stage~!
After him we get briefed on the Convention Rules by some in-character Organization members who seem to believe we're applying for a job rather than attending a convention. They show us a video, which is actually pretty funny.
Master of Ceremonies than introduces us to the Pirates VS Ninjas Bucket Game. On the Pirates side we have Luffy, on the Ninjas side we have Sasuke. The most FANTASTIC match up, like way.
Luffy wins.
(I never doubted him.)
I wander around the convention center for a while, finding some fantastic cosplayers and the like:
...and eventually find the Dealers Hall, which for some reason is in the sub-basement parking lot. Don't ask me why, I haven't a clue. The line to get in is pretty short, but it still takes half an hour to get in. I wander around slack jawed and in happy awe for quite a while.
Eventually I find the dealer with the One Piece PVC figures (not the POP's, while I slobbered over those, I couldn't afford them).
I sink some cash and buy me Law. He's fantastic and standing next to me as I type this. I'll shoot some pictures of him later this weekend.
On the way up out of the Dealers Hall I run int Edgeworth~!
And Klavier!
They could tell I was a fangirl right away, as I happen to be wearing my "I BELIEVE IN MILES EDGEWORTH" T-Shirt. Which, by the way, I've had quite a few people tell me the love.
I continue to wander around happily until my first Panel, the FUNimation Sneak Peak. I got quite lost, but was helped along my way to the panel by a wonderful Yaoi fan by the name of Jason. He hung out with me for the FUNi panel. Which had a good turn out. Here we have the crowd:
But I didn't get many pictures other than that. They showed us some clips of upcoming shows, many of which were hilarious and the crowd laughed uproariously for. I was hoping for some news on One Piece, but no luck. I'll have to check out the FUNi industry panel later this weekend.
Next Panel was an Intro to Cosplay Photography, where we covered some basics. It was really fun, and we got to practice on some poor sap (AKA: Volunteer) from the audience. Here's my best shots (withOUT photoshopping them):
Then I went to go stand in line for the Apples To Apples: Convention Edition panel.
As for Convention lines, some things never change.
The Panel was really fun, I ran into Jason again and we played in the same game. It was insane and funny and quite fantastic.
I then went out to get some lunch with my dad. The convention was bleeding out onto the streets, cosplayers everywheeeere!
After lunch it was time for the next funtastiac panel of the day, Kumoricon Comedy Event. We got there early while the guys were still setting up, and said guys played 20 Questions with the audience until it was time for the panel to start.
The Panel was fantastic, really fun.The comedians were a little bit rusty, new to the game and all, but that didn't detract from the performance. I laughed a bunch and it was worth the time.
(The room lighting did not lend well to photos)
Although after a while in that underground room, I started to feel like a mole or something. XD The sunlight when we got back up to ground level was quite a surprise.
I took a spin around the gaming room, which is back underground and really does feel like you're back in your mother's basement:
...and that brings us up to now, where I'm taking a break from the Con. I'll head back over later this night at 8:30 to pick up my last panel of the night, a "Mini-Manga Contest" (no clue what that entails), and then I'll probably be off to bed. It SUCKS not to have an 18+ pass for the night events. >.>;
Also worth noting:
I never actually found the Artist Alley today. Apparently it's located down in the parking lot next to the dealer's hall, but I didn't find out until it was already closed. I'll have to make my way over there tomorrow morning to waste - I mean INVEST - the rest of my money.
(IF YOU ARE A COSPLAYER AND YOU SEE YOURSELF IN MY PHOTOS, EMAIL ME AT ONECOOLC@HOTMAIL.COM, AND I WILL SEND YOU THE LARGER SIZED PHOTO.)
KUMORICON, DAY 1.
(WARNING: The following post is IMAGE INTENSE, and not friendly to low-level internet connections!)
The day starts with waking up late. No one remembered to set the alarm clock, unfortunately. So we RUSH to get to the convention center, by the time we get there the Opening Ceremonies have already started. So we drop into the Pre Reg line and grab our badges, which takes about ten minutes rather than three hours, as everyone is at Opening Ceremonies. SUCH a blessing. We get to opening ceremonies as the Taiko performance is finishing up, so we're not too late, but we're way back in the nose bleed seats (thank god for cameras with telescopic lenses).
Then our awesome Master Of Ceremonies makes his way onto the stage~!
After him we get briefed on the Convention Rules by some in-character Organization members who seem to believe we're applying for a job rather than attending a convention. They show us a video, which is actually pretty funny.
Master of Ceremonies than introduces us to the Pirates VS Ninjas Bucket Game. On the Pirates side we have Luffy, on the Ninjas side we have Sasuke. The most FANTASTIC match up, like way.
Luffy wins.
(I never doubted him.)
I wander around the convention center for a while, finding some fantastic cosplayers and the like:
...and eventually find the Dealers Hall, which for some reason is in the sub-basement parking lot. Don't ask me why, I haven't a clue. The line to get in is pretty short, but it still takes half an hour to get in. I wander around slack jawed and in happy awe for quite a while.
Eventually I find the dealer with the One Piece PVC figures (not the POP's, while I slobbered over those, I couldn't afford them).
I sink some cash and buy me Law. He's fantastic and standing next to me as I type this. I'll shoot some pictures of him later this weekend.
On the way up out of the Dealers Hall I run int Edgeworth~!
And Klavier!
They could tell I was a fangirl right away, as I happen to be wearing my "I BELIEVE IN MILES EDGEWORTH" T-Shirt. Which, by the way, I've had quite a few people tell me the love.
I continue to wander around happily until my first Panel, the FUNimation Sneak Peak. I got quite lost, but was helped along my way to the panel by a wonderful Yaoi fan by the name of Jason. He hung out with me for the FUNi panel. Which had a good turn out. Here we have the crowd:
But I didn't get many pictures other than that. They showed us some clips of upcoming shows, many of which were hilarious and the crowd laughed uproariously for. I was hoping for some news on One Piece, but no luck. I'll have to check out the FUNi industry panel later this weekend.
Next Panel was an Intro to Cosplay Photography, where we covered some basics. It was really fun, and we got to practice on some poor sap (AKA: Volunteer) from the audience. Here's my best shots (withOUT photoshopping them):
Then I went to go stand in line for the Apples To Apples: Convention Edition panel.
As for Convention lines, some things never change.
The Panel was really fun, I ran into Jason again and we played in the same game. It was insane and funny and quite fantastic.
I then went out to get some lunch with my dad. The convention was bleeding out onto the streets, cosplayers everywheeeere!
After lunch it was time for the next funtastiac panel of the day, Kumoricon Comedy Event. We got there early while the guys were still setting up, and said guys played 20 Questions with the audience until it was time for the panel to start.
The Panel was fantastic, really fun.The comedians were a little bit rusty, new to the game and all, but that didn't detract from the performance. I laughed a bunch and it was worth the time.
(The room lighting did not lend well to photos)
Although after a while in that underground room, I started to feel like a mole or something. XD The sunlight when we got back up to ground level was quite a surprise.
I took a spin around the gaming room, which is back underground and really does feel like you're back in your mother's basement:
...and that brings us up to now, where I'm taking a break from the Con. I'll head back over later this night at 8:30 to pick up my last panel of the night, a "Mini-Manga Contest" (no clue what that entails), and then I'll probably be off to bed. It SUCKS not to have an 18+ pass for the night events. >.>;
Also worth noting:
I never actually found the Artist Alley today. Apparently it's located down in the parking lot next to the dealer's hall, but I didn't find out until it was already closed. I'll have to make my way over there tomorrow morning to waste - I mean INVEST - the rest of my money.
(IF YOU ARE A COSPLAYER AND YOU SEE YOURSELF IN MY PHOTOS, EMAIL ME AT ONECOOLC@HOTMAIL.COM, AND I WILL SEND YOU THE LARGER SIZED PHOTO.)
Monday, August 9, 2010
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Angel of Death
Oh man, I need to blog more. I really do. I love to write, I love to talk. Why on earth did I stop? I'll try to pick it back up. Y'know, that whole daily thing? Yeah.
Anyways. On to today's topic.
I got dragged into JulNo. I decided, "Hey, writing is good for the soul! I might as well give it my best shot!", and it started really well. I had a fantastic idea.
Plot Summary:
Our main character is Chelsea. Chelsea Dies. When Chelsea dies she becomes an Angel of Death. So now she follows people around until they die. She decides to bend the rules a bit and tell people their going to die before they actually do. The book deals with a lot of death-related-issues.
That sounds kind of bland, but when I was explaining it earlier it sounded better. I was really excited to write this book. Then I started, and there was one teeeensy little problem:
I couldn't hear Chelsea. She didn't have a voice.
Writing her just wasn't fun. She wasn't a person I knew or could get to know, she wasn't a person at all. Chelsea did things because the plot needed her to, she didn't do them because that's what she wanted to do personally. Now, anyone who knows me knows I am heavily character driven. Whatever I write, the people are the most important prospect. Plot? Screw plot. If I have awesome characters they'll do something interesting eventually.
And because of my dependence on my characters, I couldn't write this book. I've been screwing around with writing some other stuff, y'know, nothing big. Some terrible, OOC, slashy, sex-filled Snape/Draco fanfic, a bit of extra stuff with the characters from Delinquent, some role play. And because of my screwing around I've got a new character running around my head, his name is Murk.
Murk is awesome. I love Murk. He's my little wizard kid. I'm still figuring this guy out, but I'll post more about him in a later Blog.
Peace out.
Anyways. On to today's topic.
I got dragged into JulNo. I decided, "Hey, writing is good for the soul! I might as well give it my best shot!", and it started really well. I had a fantastic idea.
Plot Summary:
Our main character is Chelsea. Chelsea Dies. When Chelsea dies she becomes an Angel of Death. So now she follows people around until they die. She decides to bend the rules a bit and tell people their going to die before they actually do. The book deals with a lot of death-related-issues.
That sounds kind of bland, but when I was explaining it earlier it sounded better. I was really excited to write this book. Then I started, and there was one teeeensy little problem:
I couldn't hear Chelsea. She didn't have a voice.
Writing her just wasn't fun. She wasn't a person I knew or could get to know, she wasn't a person at all. Chelsea did things because the plot needed her to, she didn't do them because that's what she wanted to do personally. Now, anyone who knows me knows I am heavily character driven. Whatever I write, the people are the most important prospect. Plot? Screw plot. If I have awesome characters they'll do something interesting eventually.
And because of my dependence on my characters, I couldn't write this book. I've been screwing around with writing some other stuff, y'know, nothing big. Some terrible, OOC, slashy, sex-filled Snape/Draco fanfic, a bit of extra stuff with the characters from Delinquent, some role play. And because of my screwing around I've got a new character running around my head, his name is Murk.
Murk is awesome. I love Murk. He's my little wizard kid. I'm still figuring this guy out, but I'll post more about him in a later Blog.
Peace out.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
School is Closing Out
It is finals week, that terrible mix between being bored-out-of-your-mind and stressed-beyond-belief. Half your classes have nothing going on, while the other half have a test worth ten to fifteen percent of your grade. It imposes a sort of stress related emotional whiplash. On top of this is the anticipation for the summer, because it is so close, but still slightly out of reach. The entire practice is singularly frustrating. I find it unfair that the faculty and system expect the student body to be able to focus on academics and test well under these conditions.
Or maybe I'm just feeling uncharitable because I spent two and a half hours on a test this morning.
Or maybe I'm just feeling uncharitable because I spent two and a half hours on a test this morning.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Missing Enmar Already
I have just been hit with how much I am going to really, really, truly miss Enmar.
He is the center and core of our Robotics team, and I can't imagine this family without him. I don't know what to say. I don't know what to do. I know he's leaving off to "far, far away" to go to college. So this is really the end.
There will never be another FIRST season with Enmar by our side.
The only reason I'm not in happy-sad-sentimental tears is because he is still a part of my Moonbots team. I don't have to say "Goodbye" quite yet. But we're so close to it. And part of it is already older.
He's like a big brother and a good friend at the same time. I will miss the random and rather odd moments of Enmar Affection. Including, but not limited to, rubbing my head or hugging me from behind while yelling "RAPE!".
He had a great sense of humor, a weird laugh, and I wish he hadn't felt so put-upon during his last year here. I really hope he remembers this as a good thing, and not a stressful hunk of yuck.
I'm going to miss all of the seniors next year, and it's looking like there's going to be quite a bit of member changing going on to form a different team... but Enmar still seems to be the major loss for me, because I'm missing him already.
He is the center and core of our Robotics team, and I can't imagine this family without him. I don't know what to say. I don't know what to do. I know he's leaving off to "far, far away" to go to college. So this is really the end.
There will never be another FIRST season with Enmar by our side.
The only reason I'm not in happy-sad-sentimental tears is because he is still a part of my Moonbots team. I don't have to say "Goodbye" quite yet. But we're so close to it. And part of it is already older.
He's like a big brother and a good friend at the same time. I will miss the random and rather odd moments of Enmar Affection. Including, but not limited to, rubbing my head or hugging me from behind while yelling "RAPE!".
He had a great sense of humor, a weird laugh, and I wish he hadn't felt so put-upon during his last year here. I really hope he remembers this as a good thing, and not a stressful hunk of yuck.
I'm going to miss all of the seniors next year, and it's looking like there's going to be quite a bit of member changing going on to form a different team... but Enmar still seems to be the major loss for me, because I'm missing him already.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Confrontation
I am absolutely terrified of confrontation. Of any confrontation.
Let's say I go to the bathroom at school. If there's another person in the bathroom I have to wait for them to leave before I can exit the stall because I don't want to have to confront the possibility of talking to them. I know it's stupid, I know nothing at all bad would happen, but it still scares me.
Or I'm at a stop sign and there's another car at the same intersection. I get a panic attack and freeze up because even if I know which of us has the right of way, I still don't know who is going to go first. That's why I failed my first driving test.
And when someone, anyone, catches me doing something wrong, I will lie about it.
I can't help it. It's compulsive. Even though I know it's a terrible idea and it's only going to get me into deeper trouble I am so absolutely terrified of that person being mad at me that I can't tell them the truth and admit I fucked up. I try to lie and smooth it over so they won't get upset with me. I know it will only get worse, but I will still do it. Every. Time.
This is why I try to live an honest life. Not because I think it's the right thing to do (although it is) but so that there won't be any reason for me to lie.
I know where this stems from. I am completely aware this is another offshoot of my Daddy Complex. When I was a kid my dad would could shoulder me and down talk me if I did even the slightest thing out of his taste, and so I desperately tried to cover it up whenever I screwed up.
So, yeah. I know I have a problem. I know why I have a problem. I am willing to admit this and ask for help.
Which means I think it's completely uncalled for that my Mom's initial reaction is to say I'm insulting her by saying talking to her could possibly be a sort of confrontation, and that her proceeding to make fun of me for admitting I even have problems talking to people at school in the bathroom is just mean spirited. I don't know what to say. She and my brother were both laughing, but I was crying. Even if it was a joke, even if my fears are utterly ridiculous and are practically begging to be made fun of... They are still my fears, and they are legitimate enough to me that it hurts me when they are made fun of. If I am crying it is not funny.
Let's say I go to the bathroom at school. If there's another person in the bathroom I have to wait for them to leave before I can exit the stall because I don't want to have to confront the possibility of talking to them. I know it's stupid, I know nothing at all bad would happen, but it still scares me.
Or I'm at a stop sign and there's another car at the same intersection. I get a panic attack and freeze up because even if I know which of us has the right of way, I still don't know who is going to go first. That's why I failed my first driving test.
And when someone, anyone, catches me doing something wrong, I will lie about it.
I can't help it. It's compulsive. Even though I know it's a terrible idea and it's only going to get me into deeper trouble I am so absolutely terrified of that person being mad at me that I can't tell them the truth and admit I fucked up. I try to lie and smooth it over so they won't get upset with me. I know it will only get worse, but I will still do it. Every. Time.
This is why I try to live an honest life. Not because I think it's the right thing to do (although it is) but so that there won't be any reason for me to lie.
I know where this stems from. I am completely aware this is another offshoot of my Daddy Complex. When I was a kid my dad would could shoulder me and down talk me if I did even the slightest thing out of his taste, and so I desperately tried to cover it up whenever I screwed up.
So, yeah. I know I have a problem. I know why I have a problem. I am willing to admit this and ask for help.
Which means I think it's completely uncalled for that my Mom's initial reaction is to say I'm insulting her by saying talking to her could possibly be a sort of confrontation, and that her proceeding to make fun of me for admitting I even have problems talking to people at school in the bathroom is just mean spirited. I don't know what to say. She and my brother were both laughing, but I was crying. Even if it was a joke, even if my fears are utterly ridiculous and are practically begging to be made fun of... They are still my fears, and they are legitimate enough to me that it hurts me when they are made fun of. If I am crying it is not funny.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
I Am Petty
There are two gossiping older ladies sitting in my spot.
Okay, I know it's not technically my spot. There are twenty-eight days out of the month that I am not staying here and that other people sit at that table. But when I am here, that is my spot. It's the table with the power outlet next to it! It's located at the side of the room next to a wall where I can be out of the way and sit there for four hours with no one caring. And there are gossiping ladies sitting there.
I am greatly displeased.
This feels unfair for some reason. I've been going to this hotel for over six years now. I've seen four sets of staff come and go, I've seen the building change franchises. Through all of this, I have sat in that seat.
In addition to being forced to sit in the table next to them (in order to be close enough to plug in), I am being forced into listening to their gossip.
I am still greatly displeased.
Now they're not sitting anymore. They're getting ready to leave. But they're still just standing there, next to my table, gossiping. I have no clue when they'll leave.
I am aware I am being petty.
Okay, I know it's not technically my spot. There are twenty-eight days out of the month that I am not staying here and that other people sit at that table. But when I am here, that is my spot. It's the table with the power outlet next to it! It's located at the side of the room next to a wall where I can be out of the way and sit there for four hours with no one caring. And there are gossiping ladies sitting there.
I am greatly displeased.
This feels unfair for some reason. I've been going to this hotel for over six years now. I've seen four sets of staff come and go, I've seen the building change franchises. Through all of this, I have sat in that seat.
In addition to being forced to sit in the table next to them (in order to be close enough to plug in), I am being forced into listening to their gossip.
I am still greatly displeased.
Now they're not sitting anymore. They're getting ready to leave. But they're still just standing there, next to my table, gossiping. I have no clue when they'll leave.
I am aware I am being petty.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Don't be So Genderist
Genderist.
It's like sexist, but instead of discriminating against a gender, the individual is discriminating against both genders being outside the gender "box".
It is my new pet peeve.
My mother can not get it through her head that Brandon is my Best Friend, with those wonderful capital letters denoting he means more to me then I can rightfully describe with words, and that he understands me better then all of my other friends combined.
No offense to any of my other friends reading this. I love you, too. It's just not the same flavor of love.
I can trust him to be there for me no matter what. I can trust him to never judge me, no matter what. We have so much in common it's scary.
More then that, our relationship is "safe". He's like my Nakama (Brandon, as I'm sure you're reading this, it's a One Piece term I'll tell you about later). I'm not going to worry about anything about it. That's an achievement for me, I'm a worry-whore.
My mother can not get this through her head, and is mistaking my love for Brandon as romantic sort. After I got home from his house one of her questions was, "So, do you think he likes you?". This is after she has been informed he has a girlfriend he is completely besotted with, and that Brandon is my Best Friend. This makes me want to tear at my hair and tell her she's missing the point.
Gahasd;lfkjas.
^General noise of frustration.
It's like sexist, but instead of discriminating against a gender, the individual is discriminating against both genders being outside the gender "box".
It is my new pet peeve.
My mother can not get it through her head that Brandon is my Best Friend, with those wonderful capital letters denoting he means more to me then I can rightfully describe with words, and that he understands me better then all of my other friends combined.
No offense to any of my other friends reading this. I love you, too. It's just not the same flavor of love.
I can trust him to be there for me no matter what. I can trust him to never judge me, no matter what. We have so much in common it's scary.
More then that, our relationship is "safe". He's like my Nakama (Brandon, as I'm sure you're reading this, it's a One Piece term I'll tell you about later). I'm not going to worry about anything about it. That's an achievement for me, I'm a worry-whore.
My mother can not get this through her head, and is mistaking my love for Brandon as romantic sort. After I got home from his house one of her questions was, "So, do you think he likes you?". This is after she has been informed he has a girlfriend he is completely besotted with, and that Brandon is my Best Friend. This makes me want to tear at my hair and tell her she's missing the point.
Gahasd;lfkjas.
^General noise of frustration.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Build Season is OVER!
I begin writing this with three minutes until midnight.
Today marks the end of build season.
Today is the end of late nights, the end of excused chores and late homework. Today is the end of Mountain Dew and Pizza being the staples of life. Today is the end of bad programming and physics jokes, endless That’s-What-She-Said puns, and the joking questioning of everyone’s sexuality. Today is the end of abusing the label maker at three in the morning to put “Gullible” on the ceiling. Today is the end of massive pool noodle fights because the “code is compiling”. Today is the end of “I hope this works” after you have checked it for weeks, to see it finally does. Today is the end of build season.
While this moment is not the end of FIRST Robotics, as the competition is yet to come, it is the end of many pieces that we will miss from our lives. The all-absorbing obsession of robotics is coming to a close. For many it is coming to a final close, as they are seniors and will never have this experience again. It’s sad to think about.
As my team scrambles around at the last minute to pack our crate, bickering like crazy, I finally realize why I am going to miss this so much. Over the past six weeks Roboteknix has built more than a Robot.
We have built a family.
A horribly corrupt, ill-fitting, dysfunctional family that will never cease arguing, but it is a family none the less.
As Thomas has been reminded merely minutes ago, this is not a club. This is far more then any little school extracurricular, this is a FIRST Robotics Team. There is so much more that comes with that package when you sign up. For better or for worse, you are stuck with these guys to live with and problem solve for the next six weeks.
These six weeks have been some of the most productive, most intense, most enjoyable, and yes, probably the most stressful, I can say I have experienced. It was well worth it.
Better still, it’s not over yet.
The competition lays ahead – regionals and championships, prizes to be taken, teams to meat, collaborations to be made, friends to acquire. This is not the most important part, by far, but it’s going to be FUN.
See you there,
Team 2865 Roboteknix,
Claire
(You can see the post HERE. I do not see posting this as my blog post as cheating, as I did start this FOR my blog, but decided I wanted to share.)
Today marks the end of build season.
Today is the end of late nights, the end of excused chores and late homework. Today is the end of Mountain Dew and Pizza being the staples of life. Today is the end of bad programming and physics jokes, endless That’s-What-She-Said puns, and the joking questioning of everyone’s sexuality. Today is the end of abusing the label maker at three in the morning to put “Gullible” on the ceiling. Today is the end of massive pool noodle fights because the “code is compiling”. Today is the end of “I hope this works” after you have checked it for weeks, to see it finally does. Today is the end of build season.
While this moment is not the end of FIRST Robotics, as the competition is yet to come, it is the end of many pieces that we will miss from our lives. The all-absorbing obsession of robotics is coming to a close. For many it is coming to a final close, as they are seniors and will never have this experience again. It’s sad to think about.
As my team scrambles around at the last minute to pack our crate, bickering like crazy, I finally realize why I am going to miss this so much. Over the past six weeks Roboteknix has built more than a Robot.
We have built a family.
A horribly corrupt, ill-fitting, dysfunctional family that will never cease arguing, but it is a family none the less.
As Thomas has been reminded merely minutes ago, this is not a club. This is far more then any little school extracurricular, this is a FIRST Robotics Team. There is so much more that comes with that package when you sign up. For better or for worse, you are stuck with these guys to live with and problem solve for the next six weeks.
These six weeks have been some of the most productive, most intense, most enjoyable, and yes, probably the most stressful, I can say I have experienced. It was well worth it.
Better still, it’s not over yet.
The competition lays ahead – regionals and championships, prizes to be taken, teams to meat, collaborations to be made, friends to acquire. This is not the most important part, by far, but it’s going to be FUN.
See you there,
Team 2865 Roboteknix,
Claire
(You can see the post HERE. I do not see posting this as my blog post as cheating, as I did start this FOR my blog, but decided I wanted to share.)
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Northwest College of Art
Dude. So. Today I heard back from the Northwest College of Art, the one and only college I want to go to. (Yeah, I know, I need to broaden my horizons. I don't care.) And. I have a tour scheduled over spring break, so I get to go down for Sakura Con AND hang out at the college of my dreams the day before! It's going to be awesome. They even sent me a picture drawn by a student in the email. [See!]
NWCA has been my #1 school choice for about a year now. It's a really small privately run art school with a student body of about 90. All of their classes are art centric. Instead of learning US History, you can learn about The History of European Art or some such other course. They don't even offer hard math classes! As the speaker said, about 70% of their curriculum is art related, where most schools hold out at about 50%.
I'm really excited to get to stop by and see the campus, as I honestly haven't even considered more then one or two other places, and those other places I am considering are just "meh". I'm hoping to sign up for the pre-college correspondence course, in an effort to sink my teeth in early. Maybe I'll convince them they should admit me before I even have to apply.
(On an unrelated note, it's FUN talking about which guys are the hottest in Robotics with Brandon. Creeps the hell out of the people listening. [And don't worry Colton, you're still the one for me. <3])
![[See!]](http://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h120/oncooolc/SafeRedirect.jpg){kind=link}
NWCA has been my #1 school choice for about a year now. It's a really small privately run art school with a student body of about 90. All of their classes are art centric. Instead of learning US History, you can learn about The History of European Art or some such other course. They don't even offer hard math classes! As the speaker said, about 70% of their curriculum is art related, where most schools hold out at about 50%.
I'm really excited to get to stop by and see the campus, as I honestly haven't even considered more then one or two other places, and those other places I am considering are just "meh". I'm hoping to sign up for the pre-college correspondence course, in an effort to sink my teeth in early. Maybe I'll convince them they should admit me before I even have to apply.
(On an unrelated note, it's FUN talking about which guys are the hottest in Robotics with Brandon. Creeps the hell out of the people listening. [And don't worry Colton, you're still the one for me. <3])
Monday, February 15, 2010
Ha-HA!
Today when I came home my mother accosted me and demanded to know why I was using a picture of myself as my avatar on Chief Delphi, never mind that half the users do it, and that that particular photo had already been posted on our team's website. She got mad about it and lectured me for a while.
After that she told me I have to clean the kitchen (which was in shambles) or I couldn't go to Robotics.
I calmly explained why I chose to use the photograph, and accepted the fact that the kitchen did need to be cleaned. Facts of life. After all, I had already spent the day horribly stressed at Robotics, it wasn't like anything she threw at me was going to make my day worse.
She then admitted she was trying to make me blow up and get mad, and have a horrible day. Her motivation? She was having a horrible day herself, and is apparently half way through a mid-life-crisis. And on her period.
My first thought was, "Wow, that's bitchy!". Then I told her I had a bad day at Robotics, and she might as well be throwing stones at a brick wall.
I then commenced cleaning the kitchen by plugging in my MP3 player, turning it up really loud, and playing fast happy music. I danced like an idiot the entire time, and I feel much, much better. Happy, even.
Thank you mother for trying to kill my day, I think you just about made it instead.
After that she told me I have to clean the kitchen (which was in shambles) or I couldn't go to Robotics.
I calmly explained why I chose to use the photograph, and accepted the fact that the kitchen did need to be cleaned. Facts of life. After all, I had already spent the day horribly stressed at Robotics, it wasn't like anything she threw at me was going to make my day worse.
She then admitted she was trying to make me blow up and get mad, and have a horrible day. Her motivation? She was having a horrible day herself, and is apparently half way through a mid-life-crisis. And on her period.
My first thought was, "Wow, that's bitchy!". Then I told her I had a bad day at Robotics, and she might as well be throwing stones at a brick wall.
I then commenced cleaning the kitchen by plugging in my MP3 player, turning it up really loud, and playing fast happy music. I danced like an idiot the entire time, and I feel much, much better. Happy, even.
Thank you mother for trying to kill my day, I think you just about made it instead.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Mr. 2!
So. I just got around to watching the latest One Piece episodes.
And. MR 2 BON KURAE IS AWESOME.
Watching this episode caused massive amounts of squeakage.
Mister Two just got his own theme song and character development.
I am in freaking love.
With Oda. The guy who wrote all this awesome. My brother informs me this is only the beginning, and it's gunna get hella better as it goes on. I can. Not. Wait.
Might edit later. Might not. Dinner calls.
And. MR 2 BON KURAE IS AWESOME.
Watching this episode caused massive amounts of squeakage.
Mister Two just got his own theme song and character development.
I am in freaking love.
With Oda. The guy who wrote all this awesome. My brother informs me this is only the beginning, and it's gunna get hella better as it goes on. I can. Not. Wait.
Might edit later. Might not. Dinner calls.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
FTC is Awesome
I just got back from the FTC competition.
IT WAS AWESOME.
I mean, not nearly the same level of awesome one would find at FRC - it's a smaller scale competition. But still awesome all the same. These types of events fill my heart with nerdy joy. <3
The team I was with ended up with 11th place over all out of 21. We were 9th place through most of the qualification rounds, but then got knocked down to 11 after match six.
We got to meet and play with two particularly awesome teams, 295 and 417. These teams took first and second respectively, and playing with them was both an honor and a joy. Team 417 is also participating in FRC (FIRST Robotics Challenge) this year, and we've planned to meet up in Portland at the Regional some time.
They had awesome hats. AWESOME hats. They said "You lost the game". BUT IN BINARY.
After this I'm feeling like next year it would be tons of fun to join FTC instead of just tagging along. I hope Sal decides to continue the team.
IT WAS AWESOME.
I mean, not nearly the same level of awesome one would find at FRC - it's a smaller scale competition. But still awesome all the same. These types of events fill my heart with nerdy joy. <3
The team I was with ended up with 11th place over all out of 21. We were 9th place through most of the qualification rounds, but then got knocked down to 11 after match six.
We got to meet and play with two particularly awesome teams, 295 and 417. These teams took first and second respectively, and playing with them was both an honor and a joy. Team 417 is also participating in FRC (FIRST Robotics Challenge) this year, and we've planned to meet up in Portland at the Regional some time.
They had awesome hats. AWESOME hats. They said "You lost the game". BUT IN BINARY.
After this I'm feeling like next year it would be tons of fun to join FTC instead of just tagging along. I hope Sal decides to continue the team.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
WHEELZ PLZ
DUDE. DUDE. DUDE.
CHECK.
THIS.
OUT.
Aren't they amazing!? Those, right there, those beautiful things are the teaser pictures for the wheels our Robotics team has spent the last three weeks making. Even if the rest of our robot completely sucks, we will still have the most awesome wheels at competition. At least at regional. I'm not sure about the Atlanta game (internationals), as those will be the top robots in all of FRC (FIRST Robotics Competition).
Making the wheels has been way too much fun. For example, the other day Mike (one of our mentors) was playing with the wax we were using to duplicate molds, stuck his thumb in, and when we went to poor the molds he created a silicon recreation of his thumb - complete with fingerprint. He even dipped the end in the red rubber so it would look like it got chopped off bloody, and as the silicon is a light pink color and a semi-squishy, it's pretty convincing at a glance. It's pretty kick ass.
Besides our wheels, though... We're still behind. The chassis JUST got welded. As in, today. It's week five. Out of six. ...It's going to be close, to say the least.
CHECK.
THIS.
OUT.
Aren't they amazing!? Those, right there, those beautiful things are the teaser pictures for the wheels our Robotics team has spent the last three weeks making. Even if the rest of our robot completely sucks, we will still have the most awesome wheels at competition. At least at regional. I'm not sure about the Atlanta game (internationals), as those will be the top robots in all of FRC (FIRST Robotics Competition).
Making the wheels has been way too much fun. For example, the other day Mike (one of our mentors) was playing with the wax we were using to duplicate molds, stuck his thumb in, and when we went to poor the molds he created a silicon recreation of his thumb - complete with fingerprint. He even dipped the end in the red rubber so it would look like it got chopped off bloody, and as the silicon is a light pink color and a semi-squishy, it's pretty convincing at a glance. It's pretty kick ass.
Besides our wheels, though... We're still behind. The chassis JUST got welded. As in, today. It's week five. Out of six. ...It's going to be close, to say the least.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Hanna Is Not a Boy's Name
...but it is in the webcomic of that title, which happens to be the most amazing thing I've read this month (Penta doesn't count, I read most of that in December and January).
The plot is good. While in concept it's normal, the characters are what take the story and really hitch it up to awesome. They are loveable. In a way that zombies and shitty vampires really shouldn't be, but manage to do, anyways. They'll capture you in a moment, I swear.
...and the art is just something else. Oh my God, I am in love with Trissa's art. It is in. Full. Color. Beautiful color. And the textures top it off sooo nicely. She puts attention to detail, and it's not just some generic Manga/Animoo stuck together. It sticks out. It's bold. It's beautiful.
What really tops it all off, though, is... the typography.
I know, that sounds lame. But it's not. Trissa doesn't treat the type as just words, she treats them as an extension of the art in which anything can happen, in which emotions can be conveyed. Everything else is great, sure... But the typography is what's transforming this comic from a simple piece to something truly out of this world. Every time I flip to a new page I am in awe.
Go read it. Now.
http://hanna.aftertorque.com/
---
On another note, I had my first date tonight. :3 I had a fantaaastic time. <3
The plot is good. While in concept it's normal, the characters are what take the story and really hitch it up to awesome. They are loveable. In a way that zombies and shitty vampires really shouldn't be, but manage to do, anyways. They'll capture you in a moment, I swear.
...and the art is just something else. Oh my God, I am in love with Trissa's art. It is in. Full. Color. Beautiful color. And the textures top it off sooo nicely. She puts attention to detail, and it's not just some generic Manga/Animoo stuck together. It sticks out. It's bold. It's beautiful.
What really tops it all off, though, is... the typography.
I know, that sounds lame. But it's not. Trissa doesn't treat the type as just words, she treats them as an extension of the art in which anything can happen, in which emotions can be conveyed. Everything else is great, sure... But the typography is what's transforming this comic from a simple piece to something truly out of this world. Every time I flip to a new page I am in awe.
Go read it. Now.
http://hanna.aftertorque.com/
---
On another note, I had my first date tonight. :3 I had a fantaaastic time. <3
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Cars
I'm not a car person. I don't talk cars. I don't understand cars. I couldn't tell you the engine from the transmission. I don't even know what a transmission is.
But I adore trucks. I looove large vehicles. The feeling you get driving and riding them is amazing, and the knowledge that you could crush that little Honda Civic like a bug is just awesome.
James' mom has a Hummer.
It can climb steep inclines. It's got huge wheels. The vibrations going over speed bumps are almost nonexistent. It has a Bose sterio system.
I'm pretty sure I salivated.
And then I remembered my brother saying we should trade in his truck for a fuel efficient car so I have something to drive. And nearly teared up.
Why does no one understand? Why is it I'm expected to drive some sort of "chic car"? Why aren't girls supposed to love trucks? Because the world's not effing fair, that's why.
But I adore trucks. I looove large vehicles. The feeling you get driving and riding them is amazing, and the knowledge that you could crush that little Honda Civic like a bug is just awesome.
James' mom has a Hummer.
It can climb steep inclines. It's got huge wheels. The vibrations going over speed bumps are almost nonexistent. It has a Bose sterio system.
I'm pretty sure I salivated.
And then I remembered my brother saying we should trade in his truck for a fuel efficient car so I have something to drive. And nearly teared up.
Why does no one understand? Why is it I'm expected to drive some sort of "chic car"? Why aren't girls supposed to love trucks? Because the world's not effing fair, that's why.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Circle of Life
I retract my previous claim about screwing the Circle of Life.
Why?
Today my cousin Jacob died. He was a sweet kid, and special needs. He had never done anything to intentionally harm another person in his entire life. His life was one well spent.
Today my cousin, Nicky, had her baby.
It puts a lot into perspective.
Why?
Today my cousin Jacob died. He was a sweet kid, and special needs. He had never done anything to intentionally harm another person in his entire life. His life was one well spent.
Today my cousin, Nicky, had her baby.
It puts a lot into perspective.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Blarg
Ug. I am not in a blogging mood today.
There's lots I could rant about, but I don't really feel like talking.
One of the major highlights of my day has been aquiring Lemon Demon and Hallelujah for my new (suckish but at least it works) MP3 player. Jon's also given me permision to crack his iTunes, so Doctor Horrible shall be mine soon, too. I love my music.
I recieved an awesome group hug today at Robotics. It made me squeek, but still made me happy.
I need to figure out how to get some sleep this week without sleeping through first and second period constantly.
Brain. Not. Functioning.
There's lots I could rant about, but I don't really feel like talking.
One of the major highlights of my day has been aquiring Lemon Demon and Hallelujah for my new (suckish but at least it works) MP3 player. Jon's also given me permision to crack his iTunes, so Doctor Horrible shall be mine soon, too. I love my music.
I recieved an awesome group hug today at Robotics. It made me squeek, but still made me happy.
I need to figure out how to get some sleep this week without sleeping through first and second period constantly.
Brain. Not. Functioning.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
I'm Mad at God Right Now
Fuck this "circle of life" crap. It still sucks when someone you know and love has to die.
It's not fair. It's not cool when an innocent kid who's never intentionally hurt anyone in his life, who is the sweetest person ever, gets the death sentance.
For what?
Why?
Because his body doesn't work quite right?
That's not fair.
The good people should get long lives. They shouldn't have to die young while our prisons are clogging up with people who are still alive and kicking but have no regret for what they've done (the other ones are okay. I don't mind if they're there thinking about themselves and changing and all that crap).
Hell. He deserves to live more then I do.
This isn't cool, God. This isn't cool.
But please, please don't let him be in pain.
It's not fair. It's not cool when an innocent kid who's never intentionally hurt anyone in his life, who is the sweetest person ever, gets the death sentance.
For what?
Why?
Because his body doesn't work quite right?
That's not fair.
The good people should get long lives. They shouldn't have to die young while our prisons are clogging up with people who are still alive and kicking but have no regret for what they've done (the other ones are okay. I don't mind if they're there thinking about themselves and changing and all that crap).
Hell. He deserves to live more then I do.
This isn't cool, God. This isn't cool.
But please, please don't let him be in pain.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Matt the Photographer
Matt randomly picked up the pink block of Styrofoam the camera was ducktaped to, fiddling objectively, as his hands felt empty without the normal professional style camera slung around his neck. He pointed the camera up at at Claire, as she was the one standing nearest, and twisted his head back to see the display on the netbook behind them. He jittered it around a few times, but to no avail.
"Aw. The camera's not working." He stated, a slight note of disappointment audible in his voice.
"As you have that pointed at my boobs right now," Claire responded with fake hostility, "It better not!"
Matt dropped the camera like a hot coal, blushing slightly, and the room burst out into laughter. The moment was made all the more hilarious, as Matt had been stating mere moments earlier that even if the rest of the team made constant sex jokes with no regard towards her, at the very least he respected Claire.
"We see what you do." Enmar laughed from the other side of the table, looking up from the robot.
"So that's your kind of photography!" James added a little bit too loudly.
Claire just rolled back on her stool, laughing and gasping for breath.
---
Best. Moment. Ever. I felt the need to share.
The exact words are slightly tweaked, as this happened over an hour ago and I can't remember them perfectly. But you get the general idea.
"Aw. The camera's not working." He stated, a slight note of disappointment audible in his voice.
"As you have that pointed at my boobs right now," Claire responded with fake hostility, "It better not!"
Matt dropped the camera like a hot coal, blushing slightly, and the room burst out into laughter. The moment was made all the more hilarious, as Matt had been stating mere moments earlier that even if the rest of the team made constant sex jokes with no regard towards her, at the very least he respected Claire.
"We see what you do." Enmar laughed from the other side of the table, looking up from the robot.
"So that's your kind of photography!" James added a little bit too loudly.
Claire just rolled back on her stool, laughing and gasping for breath.
---
Best. Moment. Ever. I felt the need to share.
The exact words are slightly tweaked, as this happened over an hour ago and I can't remember them perfectly. But you get the general idea.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
How to NOT Draw!
Meet my new character, B. A. Draxton.
http://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h120/oncooolc/ba.jpg
According to my best bud Pawky, he's a Matrix Reject and a mar on the face of the planet as far as character design goes, which is probably true. However, I don't particularly care and love him dearly anyways. <3
But she brings up an excellent point.
Draxton is the direct product of me reading far too many "How To Draw..." books, the current one being Drawing Cutting Edge Comics by Christopher Heart. Reading these books will greatly diminish any individual's ability to work through proper character design.
Why? The steriotype pages. Every single one of these books I have read has had a section describing how to make characters look cool, snappy, and interesting. Every single one of these sections has merely been several murals to the world of underdeveloped steriotypes. They are baaaaad things that should be skipped over.
In fact, one should just skip over these books entirely. They suck.
They encourage step-by-step drawing instead of creatively analyzing a subject and drawing from the mind. They enforce bad art habbits. Many of them purposefully sway the reader into improper proportions. They're just bad, bad, bad, bad, and don't teach the reader what they really need to know. These things are TRAPS that suck in ametuer artists and shackle them, creating bad habits that are hard to rid oneself of later in life.
So why do I keep reading them?
Why?
http://i62.photobucket.com/albums/h120/oncooolc/ba.jpg
According to my best bud Pawky, he's a Matrix Reject and a mar on the face of the planet as far as character design goes, which is probably true. However, I don't particularly care and love him dearly anyways. <3
But she brings up an excellent point.
Draxton is the direct product of me reading far too many "How To Draw..." books, the current one being Drawing Cutting Edge Comics by Christopher Heart. Reading these books will greatly diminish any individual's ability to work through proper character design.
Why? The steriotype pages. Every single one of these books I have read has had a section describing how to make characters look cool, snappy, and interesting. Every single one of these sections has merely been several murals to the world of underdeveloped steriotypes. They are baaaaad things that should be skipped over.
In fact, one should just skip over these books entirely. They suck.
They encourage step-by-step drawing instead of creatively analyzing a subject and drawing from the mind. They enforce bad art habbits. Many of them purposefully sway the reader into improper proportions. They're just bad, bad, bad, bad, and don't teach the reader what they really need to know. These things are TRAPS that suck in ametuer artists and shackle them, creating bad habits that are hard to rid oneself of later in life.
So why do I keep reading them?
Why?
Saturday, January 30, 2010
The Honors Student
You've all heard the phrase, or your schools equivalent, before: "Honors Student". How the teachers separate the smart, fast thinkers from the rest of the bunch. They stereotype us as "Perfect" and "Smarter".
It's time to tell the truth. We're not.
The Honors Student is simply a person with the way of thinking that academics come easily to them. That doesn't make them better. In fact, in many cases, that makes them much, much worse.
My Robotics Mentor, who we'll call "Sal", made a bit of a distinction today in reference to how we were building a 1:1 scale kicking prototype. The Honors Student spends freaking forever working on the mathematics and "Theoretically..." parts of design, trying to make the mechanism perfect on paper before building it. They usually run out of time, and their 'bot's "theoretically" doesn't work out completely as planned. The rest of them just charge ahead and make something that doesn't work, then tweak it until it does. This tactic works much better.
An Honors student...
* Gets good grades, and tests very well.
* Tends to either finish the project light years ahead of time, or forget about it. Then remember about said project three days before the due date and BS'es something together during a last minute all-nighter, getting a decent-to-above-average grade.
* Thinks book work is easy.
* Talks during class more often then not.
* Often uses the phrase, "I'll do it at home", and truthfully. It is not uncommon for them to find their class time better used to socialize then to do the work.
* Can execute step-by-step instructions perfectly, but often skips reading them because they "Know what they're doing". With mixed results.
* Tends to excel in at least one area completely with a "Pshh, that's easy!" directed at pretty much every assignment.
* Does not study for tests, and can easily be screwed when the teacher decides to spring a harder test then normal
...Among other things. These aren't true tick by tick, but just some of what I've observed.
It's time to tell the truth. We're not.
The Honors Student is simply a person with the way of thinking that academics come easily to them. That doesn't make them better. In fact, in many cases, that makes them much, much worse.
My Robotics Mentor, who we'll call "Sal", made a bit of a distinction today in reference to how we were building a 1:1 scale kicking prototype. The Honors Student spends freaking forever working on the mathematics and "Theoretically..." parts of design, trying to make the mechanism perfect on paper before building it. They usually run out of time, and their 'bot's "theoretically" doesn't work out completely as planned. The rest of them just charge ahead and make something that doesn't work, then tweak it until it does. This tactic works much better.
An Honors student...
* Gets good grades, and tests very well.
* Tends to either finish the project light years ahead of time, or forget about it. Then remember about said project three days before the due date and BS'es something together during a last minute all-nighter, getting a decent-to-above-average grade.
* Thinks book work is easy.
* Talks during class more often then not.
* Often uses the phrase, "I'll do it at home", and truthfully. It is not uncommon for them to find their class time better used to socialize then to do the work.
* Can execute step-by-step instructions perfectly, but often skips reading them because they "Know what they're doing". With mixed results.
* Tends to excel in at least one area completely with a "Pshh, that's easy!" directed at pretty much every assignment.
* Does not study for tests, and can easily be screwed when the teacher decides to spring a harder test then normal
...Among other things. These aren't true tick by tick, but just some of what I've observed.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Still a Six
Okay, so, as much as I hate to admit it, I agree with one Miss Stephanie Meyer on a point. One point. A SINGLE point. But it is there none-the-less, and she does a good job of explaining it. So I'm going to reuse her philosophy to make MY point. Which is similar to hers.
Here I go.
Okay, in life, people are generally somewhere on a scale from 1 to 10. One is bat shit ugly, ten is drop dead gorgeous. The scale is some what tipped so most girls are between a five and an eight. Unfortunately, girls around eight through ten usually get the guy. That leaves most of us out.
I, myself, am somewhere around a five or a Six. Guys do not look in my direction, they're busy watching the tens.
But then I joined Robotics.
Now I am in a completely different pool. I have left the ocean to a smaller group of fish. There is still the same ratio of six's to tens... but the ratio of guys to girls is much larger. The guys in this pool have had less direct female contact. They don't off the bat notice I'm only a six, and get a chance to know me before they judge.
Which means some of them like me.
There's no sparks, but definitely some interest. And even more then that, they treat me like a cute girl. I'm not kidding. It's not, "Oh, another person." It's, "Hi Cee! Hug?"
So even though I'm still a six, I no longer have to live with the limitations of one. I am loving it.
Here I go.
Okay, in life, people are generally somewhere on a scale from 1 to 10. One is bat shit ugly, ten is drop dead gorgeous. The scale is some what tipped so most girls are between a five and an eight. Unfortunately, girls around eight through ten usually get the guy. That leaves most of us out.
I, myself, am somewhere around a five or a Six. Guys do not look in my direction, they're busy watching the tens.
But then I joined Robotics.
Now I am in a completely different pool. I have left the ocean to a smaller group of fish. There is still the same ratio of six's to tens... but the ratio of guys to girls is much larger. The guys in this pool have had less direct female contact. They don't off the bat notice I'm only a six, and get a chance to know me before they judge.
Which means some of them like me.
There's no sparks, but definitely some interest. And even more then that, they treat me like a cute girl. I'm not kidding. It's not, "Oh, another person." It's, "Hi Cee! Hug?"
So even though I'm still a six, I no longer have to live with the limitations of one. I am loving it.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
The Clothes Make It
Right now, this very second, I am wearing a black fedora and a leather jacket. I feel awesome.
It saddens me to admit they are not mine and that I will have to give them back tomarrow morning. However, I am going to make good use of them while I have them to write this blog.
I love clothes. I absolutely adore style. All sorts of style, I'm not one to discriminate. Goth, punk, emo, pretty-in-pink, nerd bling. You name it I can find some way to verbally gush over how wonderful it is. Now you wouldn't necessarily think that looking at me and my standard jeans-and-a-T-Shirt wardrobe, nor when you gaze upon the fail that is the wardrobes I adorn my poor characters with. Because I suck at style. But that doesn't mean I can't admire the people who have it.
Now, before I get into too much detail, let me explain the difference between fashion and style. Style is that individual ZING of inspirational cloth people wear, the way they carry their clothes and their clothing choices. The bits that you look at them and go, "Oh yeah, that totally fits." It fits into their personality like a puzzle piece, often times making a statement.
Fashion is... fashion is... Imagine a heard of lemmings, running as fast as they can with their terrified little feet. Now imagine them running into a Holister store.
Fashion is the 'craze' that turns human beings into clones, each just trying to look like the last person but better doing it. It is when every girl in school has a haircut parted on the far side and swishing over their forehead to their ear on the other side. It is when you can look at a group of six teenage girls and make the assumption they all got dressed out of the same closet that morning. It is the opposite of style, a numbing of the creative side of the brain that is a mar upon the face of the earth.
Yeah. You can tell I don't like fashion.
But I love style!
So, back to my point.
Clothing makes a big statement about a person or a character. Just wearing something out of your norm can make you feel completely different. I am loving this fedora. The same goes for formal wear, or an excess of a strong color (such as pink or black) that isn't normally in your closet.
This change naturally transitions into the way people see you, as well. For example, my good friend SML dressed all out Trip pants and metal spikes goth. She is the sweetest, shyest person I have ever met, yet still gets treated like a punk everywhere she goes. People make assumptions based on what you put out there, so one must be careful.
This makes clothing style in character design crucial. If every character in a comic book wears standard shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes, then the whole group becomes much less memoriable. Even a simple think like preferring to wear striped ties instead of just a standard dress shirt makes a subconscious mark on the reader. Although fanartists are likely the only ones who will remember, the image still impacts the reader. The same goes for regular story writing, make a note on the personal style of a character and the reader will immediately begin to associate them with a culture, even a personality steriotype. Style is a powerful thing, which makes going against the grain such a powerful tool in creative aspects like writing and drawing.
This makes me emo corner when I look at Nathen, or realize I've never drawn Marcus outside his school uniform. Or when I think about how besides "The" sweater and tight pants Alex doesn't actually have an emo-identity. It just makes me sort of cry.
I WILL FIX THIS.
Eventually.
It saddens me to admit they are not mine and that I will have to give them back tomarrow morning. However, I am going to make good use of them while I have them to write this blog.
I love clothes. I absolutely adore style. All sorts of style, I'm not one to discriminate. Goth, punk, emo, pretty-in-pink, nerd bling. You name it I can find some way to verbally gush over how wonderful it is. Now you wouldn't necessarily think that looking at me and my standard jeans-and-a-T-Shirt wardrobe, nor when you gaze upon the fail that is the wardrobes I adorn my poor characters with. Because I suck at style. But that doesn't mean I can't admire the people who have it.
Now, before I get into too much detail, let me explain the difference between fashion and style. Style is that individual ZING of inspirational cloth people wear, the way they carry their clothes and their clothing choices. The bits that you look at them and go, "Oh yeah, that totally fits." It fits into their personality like a puzzle piece, often times making a statement.
Fashion is... fashion is... Imagine a heard of lemmings, running as fast as they can with their terrified little feet. Now imagine them running into a Holister store.
Fashion is the 'craze' that turns human beings into clones, each just trying to look like the last person but better doing it. It is when every girl in school has a haircut parted on the far side and swishing over their forehead to their ear on the other side. It is when you can look at a group of six teenage girls and make the assumption they all got dressed out of the same closet that morning. It is the opposite of style, a numbing of the creative side of the brain that is a mar upon the face of the earth.
Yeah. You can tell I don't like fashion.
But I love style!
So, back to my point.
Clothing makes a big statement about a person or a character. Just wearing something out of your norm can make you feel completely different. I am loving this fedora. The same goes for formal wear, or an excess of a strong color (such as pink or black) that isn't normally in your closet.
This change naturally transitions into the way people see you, as well. For example, my good friend SML dressed all out Trip pants and metal spikes goth. She is the sweetest, shyest person I have ever met, yet still gets treated like a punk everywhere she goes. People make assumptions based on what you put out there, so one must be careful.
This makes clothing style in character design crucial. If every character in a comic book wears standard shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes, then the whole group becomes much less memoriable. Even a simple think like preferring to wear striped ties instead of just a standard dress shirt makes a subconscious mark on the reader. Although fanartists are likely the only ones who will remember, the image still impacts the reader. The same goes for regular story writing, make a note on the personal style of a character and the reader will immediately begin to associate them with a culture, even a personality steriotype. Style is a powerful thing, which makes going against the grain such a powerful tool in creative aspects like writing and drawing.
This makes me emo corner when I look at Nathen, or realize I've never drawn Marcus outside his school uniform. Or when I think about how besides "The" sweater and tight pants Alex doesn't actually have an emo-identity. It just makes me sort of cry.
I WILL FIX THIS.
Eventually.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Cafeteria Food
Cafeteria food is not the barely recognizable goo of TV. It is, in fact, mostly edible and almost always recognizable as some sort of sustenance one has seen before. I will go as far as to add that sometimes bits and pieces of it are actually good.
This is as far as I will go.
Because let's face it, cafeteria food still sucks.
Apparently I criticize the schools food on a daily basis. I didn't actually notice until the poor girl who eats lunch with me (By free will. I'm not sure why.) pointed it out. After taking a step back, I had to admit she's right.
I do not apologize. The the cafeteria food could be improved so much with very little effort. Add salt to the french fries. Use white bread, or at least offer it in exchange for the not-as-healthy-as-real-wheat-but-tastes-like-it-anyways crap. Don't let the food sit out for an hour before we get it. Don't burn it. Use only grapes that look like they were inspected for funny mold colored spots. Take the damn chicken bones out of the gravy.
You know. Small stuff. School food would actually be sort of good if the people cooking it didn't have such short supply of man power to get what they need to get done.
This is one of those things I'm going to complain to the school board staff about one of these days. Maybe I'll even organize a campaign.
And maybe I'll forgo fixing this horrible tragedy so I can use Cafeteria Food reviews as filler for other blog entries that I'm hurriedly throwing to bed minutes before midnight.
The world may never know
This is as far as I will go.
Because let's face it, cafeteria food still sucks.
Apparently I criticize the schools food on a daily basis. I didn't actually notice until the poor girl who eats lunch with me (By free will. I'm not sure why.) pointed it out. After taking a step back, I had to admit she's right.
I do not apologize. The the cafeteria food could be improved so much with very little effort. Add salt to the french fries. Use white bread, or at least offer it in exchange for the not-as-healthy-as-real-wheat-but-tastes-like-it-anyways crap. Don't let the food sit out for an hour before we get it. Don't burn it. Use only grapes that look like they were inspected for funny mold colored spots. Take the damn chicken bones out of the gravy.
You know. Small stuff. School food would actually be sort of good if the people cooking it didn't have such short supply of man power to get what they need to get done.
This is one of those things I'm going to complain to the school board staff about one of these days. Maybe I'll even organize a campaign.
And maybe I'll forgo fixing this horrible tragedy so I can use Cafeteria Food reviews as filler for other blog entries that I'm hurriedly throwing to bed minutes before midnight.
The world may never know
Finals Week is Hell
I hate finals week. I really, really, just hate finals week. Not with the same brightly burning passion that I hate child abuse or government torture, but more of a dull, consistent ache that eats away at my health and never truly goes away.
This is the point in time where I realize how completely screwed I am in Science, even though I'm working really hard, and on top of that, how I totally forgot we had a take-home-test over the weekend. This is the time where I break down into tears roughly three or four times a day. (Today was three, if you were wondering.)
Most people may think I'm being irrational and stupid. They would look at my mostly-A's-except-for-that-one-C-in-an-Honors-class report card and ask me what the hell my problem is. The thing is, I care about school. I care a huge fucking ton. It's important to me as the one thing I can consistently do well in. I have a talent for soaking up knowledge. Now, I don't always put that talent to good use, and finals week is the time I am given to fully and completely regret it.
Plus, putting the pressure of studying for that many tests in such a short time span doesn't seem fair. Come on, I have ALL of my finals on the same day this time around. That's not fair. That's worse then not fair, that's just plain dirty.
I feel as if I am being kicked when I'm already down. I haven't had a good nights sleep in three weeks (Robotics. It's an obsesion. That and the N.E.R.D. group.) and now this is thrown at me. I'm two nanometers from cracking.
At least I learned enough LabView today to be able to decipher code in a coherent string of thought. That's one victory.
This is the point in time where I realize how completely screwed I am in Science, even though I'm working really hard, and on top of that, how I totally forgot we had a take-home-test over the weekend. This is the time where I break down into tears roughly three or four times a day. (Today was three, if you were wondering.)
Most people may think I'm being irrational and stupid. They would look at my mostly-A's-except-for-that-one-C-in-an-Honors-class report card and ask me what the hell my problem is. The thing is, I care about school. I care a huge fucking ton. It's important to me as the one thing I can consistently do well in. I have a talent for soaking up knowledge. Now, I don't always put that talent to good use, and finals week is the time I am given to fully and completely regret it.
Plus, putting the pressure of studying for that many tests in such a short time span doesn't seem fair. Come on, I have ALL of my finals on the same day this time around. That's not fair. That's worse then not fair, that's just plain dirty.
I feel as if I am being kicked when I'm already down. I haven't had a good nights sleep in three weeks (Robotics. It's an obsesion. That and the N.E.R.D. group.) and now this is thrown at me. I'm two nanometers from cracking.
At least I learned enough LabView today to be able to decipher code in a coherent string of thought. That's one victory.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Welcome to the Closet
Well, so. As I'm sure all my friends who read this know, I'm bisexual. I find hot guys and girls equally attractive.
Most of my life I've lived firmly and conclusively in the closet, due to many family members and close friends being conservative Christian. I live in a relatively small town where it is still acceptable to publicly harass the GLBT community. Even though I've known friends openly out of their closet, I didn't have the courage to come out of mine. Even my close friend who "always knows" didn't pick me up on her gaydar.
Then one day my mother decided to ask me if I was gay. While I was trapped in the car for an hour long drive to my Grandfathers house. I suck at lying.
Since then I've been sort of in, sort of out. Kind of like I'm still in the closet, but I left the doors open. If some one asks I'll tell the truth, and I and very loudly Pro GLBT rights.
Although, at the same time, I am hiding my sexuality from my grandparents and my Dad's side of the family. They do not need to know. That, and I told my mother I'm "Confused". Which is a bold faced lie. I used to be confused, back in middle school. Now I'm completely sure, and not ashamed. I was just worried my mother would throw a fit.
Which brings about another thing. What on earth is so "Bad" about homosexuality, anyways? It always bugs me that people are like, "IT'S FROM THE DEVIIIIL!". I don't get it. I mean, I could understand them not liking getting hit on. And I could understand them not liking the large amount of sex-before-marriage, as we can't get married. But how can you fault some one for the simple, intuitive act of loving some one? How can you hate love?
Most of my life I've lived firmly and conclusively in the closet, due to many family members and close friends being conservative Christian. I live in a relatively small town where it is still acceptable to publicly harass the GLBT community. Even though I've known friends openly out of their closet, I didn't have the courage to come out of mine. Even my close friend who "always knows" didn't pick me up on her gaydar.
Then one day my mother decided to ask me if I was gay. While I was trapped in the car for an hour long drive to my Grandfathers house. I suck at lying.
Since then I've been sort of in, sort of out. Kind of like I'm still in the closet, but I left the doors open. If some one asks I'll tell the truth, and I and very loudly Pro GLBT rights.
Although, at the same time, I am hiding my sexuality from my grandparents and my Dad's side of the family. They do not need to know. That, and I told my mother I'm "Confused". Which is a bold faced lie. I used to be confused, back in middle school. Now I'm completely sure, and not ashamed. I was just worried my mother would throw a fit.
Which brings about another thing. What on earth is so "Bad" about homosexuality, anyways? It always bugs me that people are like, "IT'S FROM THE DEVIIIIL!". I don't get it. I mean, I could understand them not liking getting hit on. And I could understand them not liking the large amount of sex-before-marriage, as we can't get married. But how can you fault some one for the simple, intuitive act of loving some one? How can you hate love?
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Penta Plz K Thnx
Penta is my latest fandom. For those not "In the know", that is the working name of a novel my friend is writing. It is fantastic.
How about a short, mostly spoiler free synopsis?
The book is set in a alternate reality where the civilized world is not run by different governments and countries, but rather one large cult-like religion. The church controls everything, to the point where it is a near death punishment to skip evening prayer without pre-notification. The gods in question the world's population are to worship (which most willingly do) are Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, Pluto, and their father and creator, Lopt.
The main character, Mortimer Scott, is a police officer in forensics and a committed man of Lopt. He has the blind, cult-like love for his ever-benevolent creator.
Then one day he gets assigned a rather peculiar case concerning the death of a priest, gets drunk off his sorry ass, and basically kidnapped by the man he thinks dun it.
This man seems to recognize Mortimer, and begins to tell him blasphemous things, informing him of his true identity as Pluto, and the reason behind why he is stuck on earth with no powers.
Mortimer doesn't believe a word of it.
But then he is forced to "Remember"...
And the book just gets better from there.
I am in absolute love with this thing. Taylor has a knack for dialouge and some very good plot pacing going on. Add on top of that a natural talent for an all-absorbing style of writing, and you've got some killer stuff. Of course, there are some kinks. This is a rough draft, and it still has quite a ways to go. However, I'm heavily looking forward to the coming months of watching her write and the story take shape, then being one of the first aloud to take a red pen to her finished draft.
Taylor is planning to publish, so after our first brutal murder - I mean editing - of her book, Penta is getting emailed to a million editors and publishers until one of them says yes. And one will. This book is the type of unpolished gem they would be stupid to refuse.
When Taylor is done, this is going to be awesome.
And I am so, so fucking proud of her.
How about a short, mostly spoiler free synopsis?
The book is set in a alternate reality where the civilized world is not run by different governments and countries, but rather one large cult-like religion. The church controls everything, to the point where it is a near death punishment to skip evening prayer without pre-notification. The gods in question the world's population are to worship (which most willingly do) are Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, Pluto, and their father and creator, Lopt.
The main character, Mortimer Scott, is a police officer in forensics and a committed man of Lopt. He has the blind, cult-like love for his ever-benevolent creator.
Then one day he gets assigned a rather peculiar case concerning the death of a priest, gets drunk off his sorry ass, and basically kidnapped by the man he thinks dun it.
This man seems to recognize Mortimer, and begins to tell him blasphemous things, informing him of his true identity as Pluto, and the reason behind why he is stuck on earth with no powers.
Mortimer doesn't believe a word of it.
But then he is forced to "Remember"...
And the book just gets better from there.
I am in absolute love with this thing. Taylor has a knack for dialouge and some very good plot pacing going on. Add on top of that a natural talent for an all-absorbing style of writing, and you've got some killer stuff. Of course, there are some kinks. This is a rough draft, and it still has quite a ways to go. However, I'm heavily looking forward to the coming months of watching her write and the story take shape, then being one of the first aloud to take a red pen to her finished draft.
Taylor is planning to publish, so after our first brutal murder - I mean editing - of her book, Penta is getting emailed to a million editors and publishers until one of them says yes. And one will. This book is the type of unpolished gem they would be stupid to refuse.
When Taylor is done, this is going to be awesome.
And I am so, so fucking proud of her.
Here we go again...
My new challenge? Update this blog once a day, every day.
Unlike Sarah (of Probably Incoherent Ramblings) creating this Blogger page is no vague sense of Deja Vu to me. No, I have unfortunately been down this road before. I say unfortunate because last time I failed horribly.
For some reason, I fail at the simple task of repetition. I can't even remember to brush my teeth every night. At sixteen years old my Mom still has to remind me. How sad is that? But the point is, the act of repeating a single task once a day does not compute with my brain. Therefor, this shall be a difficult task.
Or it would be, if I was doing it alone.
No, I am not. I'm not even the instigator. Today two of my bestest friends in the whole wide world decided to do this crazy blogging thing, and I just hopped on the end with the phrase, "Lets make it a threesome!". I have people who will bug me and stab me in order to get me to do this every day, which is a good thing.
Maybe my writing will improve! Or, at the very least, my consistency. Doing something every day should help, yes?
Signing Off,
Cee
Unlike Sarah (of Probably Incoherent Ramblings) creating this Blogger page is no vague sense of Deja Vu to me. No, I have unfortunately been down this road before. I say unfortunate because last time I failed horribly.
For some reason, I fail at the simple task of repetition. I can't even remember to brush my teeth every night. At sixteen years old my Mom still has to remind me. How sad is that? But the point is, the act of repeating a single task once a day does not compute with my brain. Therefor, this shall be a difficult task.
Or it would be, if I was doing it alone.
No, I am not. I'm not even the instigator. Today two of my bestest friends in the whole wide world decided to do this crazy blogging thing, and I just hopped on the end with the phrase, "Lets make it a threesome!". I have people who will bug me and stab me in order to get me to do this every day, which is a good thing.
Maybe my writing will improve! Or, at the very least, my consistency. Doing something every day should help, yes?
Signing Off,
Cee
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