My mom doesn't get it. She doesn't understand my need to plug in. She doesn't understand how working on the things I'm good at - programming, digital art, graphic design, video productions - makes me a whole person. She doesn't get that without this, I'm nothing. I'm bored. It doesn't matter what I'm doing in any of my classes, what I'm doing with my friends, but not being able to do this, not being able to create things makes me less than a person.
I get so fucking bored.
Without this, it's like, what's the point? Why should I give a fuck?
I really hit it on the head the other week in my Career Talk for speech class - I'm an artist at the bone, I'm not happy unless I'm creating something. I'm honest-to-god not happy unless I'm creating something. I have to have a creative outlet or I'm not me.
My outlet these days is my Video Productions class. It's working with Gabe. It's bringing together snapshots and camera angles and seconds of video into a complete work of something else, hopefully something amazing. I'm good at it. I'm really good at it, one of the best video editors in the class when I've never touched the software before last month. This is a place where I can thrive.
And my mom doesn't get it.
It's not even that she won't let me take my laptop to school. It's not even that she thinks I'm not responsible enough to make sure it doesn't get stolen. Sure, that bugs me, but I can understand it on some leve. It doesn't get to me.
She called my Video Productions work a "silly little high school project".
It's the only directed, scholarly, creative work I have right now. It's important to me. It's worth risking things, because without it, I can't keep myself happy. It's my recharge, my refuel, my pit stop for self fulfillment and being me.
It's not silly.
It's important.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Technology
My mom is an oxymoron to me.
She blames me for breaking everything any time something goes wrong with technology, and assumes I am incompetent and that I don't know what I'm doing to the point of ruining everything every time I touch a control. She does not trust me to maintain a computer on any wavelength.
She also demands of me and expects me to fix anything that is wrong with the computers, and expects me to know how to fix everything. She never attempts to fix the computer herself, she always forces me to work tec support even when the problem was not something I caused, and is not something I know how to fix.
See? Oxymoron!
Somehow she doesn't think I know anything about computers, yet demands I fix them every time they break. I'm baffled. She knows nothing about how technology works, yet believes all of her suggestions have merit and none of mine do.
I quit. This is insane.
She blames me for breaking everything any time something goes wrong with technology, and assumes I am incompetent and that I don't know what I'm doing to the point of ruining everything every time I touch a control. She does not trust me to maintain a computer on any wavelength.
She also demands of me and expects me to fix anything that is wrong with the computers, and expects me to know how to fix everything. She never attempts to fix the computer herself, she always forces me to work tec support even when the problem was not something I caused, and is not something I know how to fix.
See? Oxymoron!
Somehow she doesn't think I know anything about computers, yet demands I fix them every time they break. I'm baffled. She knows nothing about how technology works, yet believes all of her suggestions have merit and none of mine do.
I quit. This is insane.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Alex Gets a Job
Short story for Taylor, since she isn't getting Trap tonight.
...
beepbeepBEEPbeepbeepBEEPbeepbeepBEEP-
“Fffffuuuuuck.” Alex grumbled as he slammed a hand over his alarm clock. The cacophonous noise stopped, but his head was still ringing.
He stared at the ceiling and counted to ten, savoring his last few moments in his warm cocoon of quilts and blankets. At ten he cursed, groaned, and rolled out of bed to fall with a hard thunk on the floor.
Alex took a moment to remind himself that he needed this job, he couldn’t blow it off. He couldn’t go back to his old employment. Sure, some of his previous clients would still be willing to take him back, but the possible consequences weren’t worth it. Mortimer’s grinning face flashed through his mind, and Alex found the will somewhere in his body to pull himself up and take a shower.
“On your resume it says that for your last job you were self-employed, and the dates listed span five years, but you didn’t list an occupation. Is that a new way of saying ‘unemployed’?”
“Oh, no. Sorry, I was an escort. I must have missed a blank when I was filling in the paperwork.”
“Escort? Could you be more specific?”
“Prostitute.”
If she had been shocked she hadn’t shown it, and the rest of the interview had gone smoothly. The next day Alex had a call back telling him he got the job. It wasn’t much, minimum wage was a bitch, but it was something, and it would pay the bills. Alex was glad for once that he lived in a tiny craptastic studio apartment. Minimum wage wouldn’t have been able to support him with anything else.
So now he worked at a record store. Or, well, CD and iTunes-gift-card store. No one sold records any more. Not that he could blame them, the playback quality and storage capacity was far superior on modern technology, but there was something nostalgic about an old vinyl.
After getting ready Alex still had a few minutes to spare before he had to start his walk down to the bus stop, and he stopped for a second to stare at himself in the mirror.
“I’m not indy enough.” He told himself with a groan, and proceeded to rap his forehead against the sink, “God. I look like a poser. An emo poser. And my indie cred is five years out of date. Fuck. Maybe I am a poser.”
He took a deep breath. No one was going to eat him alive for not being indy enough, of all things. The worst he would get would be a scowl from suitably indy customers who were wondering why the hell such a mainstream bitch was working at an indie record store. And if they scowled, Alex could always scowl back and curse their grandmother in Japanese.
There was a silver lining to every cloud.
Alex forced down a deep breath, and then another, and continued to remind himself to keep breathing. There was no reason to be this nervous about going to work as a cashier and merchandise stocker for minimum wage. Except, maybe, this was his first real, law-abiding, tax-paying job. Ever.
He did his best to shrug off the anxiety and grabbed his coat, heading out the door to report for duty.
...
beepbeepBEEPbeepbeepBEEPbeepbeepBEEP-
“Fffffuuuuuck.” Alex grumbled as he slammed a hand over his alarm clock. The cacophonous noise stopped, but his head was still ringing.
He stared at the ceiling and counted to ten, savoring his last few moments in his warm cocoon of quilts and blankets. At ten he cursed, groaned, and rolled out of bed to fall with a hard thunk on the floor.
Alex took a moment to remind himself that he needed this job, he couldn’t blow it off. He couldn’t go back to his old employment. Sure, some of his previous clients would still be willing to take him back, but the possible consequences weren’t worth it. Mortimer’s grinning face flashed through his mind, and Alex found the will somewhere in his body to pull himself up and take a shower.
“On your resume it says that for your last job you were self-employed, and the dates listed span five years, but you didn’t list an occupation. Is that a new way of saying ‘unemployed’?”
“Oh, no. Sorry, I was an escort. I must have missed a blank when I was filling in the paperwork.”
“Escort? Could you be more specific?”
“Prostitute.”
If she had been shocked she hadn’t shown it, and the rest of the interview had gone smoothly. The next day Alex had a call back telling him he got the job. It wasn’t much, minimum wage was a bitch, but it was something, and it would pay the bills. Alex was glad for once that he lived in a tiny craptastic studio apartment. Minimum wage wouldn’t have been able to support him with anything else.
So now he worked at a record store. Or, well, CD and iTunes-gift-card store. No one sold records any more. Not that he could blame them, the playback quality and storage capacity was far superior on modern technology, but there was something nostalgic about an old vinyl.
After getting ready Alex still had a few minutes to spare before he had to start his walk down to the bus stop, and he stopped for a second to stare at himself in the mirror.
“I’m not indy enough.” He told himself with a groan, and proceeded to rap his forehead against the sink, “God. I look like a poser. An emo poser. And my indie cred is five years out of date. Fuck. Maybe I am a poser.”
He took a deep breath. No one was going to eat him alive for not being indy enough, of all things. The worst he would get would be a scowl from suitably indy customers who were wondering why the hell such a mainstream bitch was working at an indie record store. And if they scowled, Alex could always scowl back and curse their grandmother in Japanese.
There was a silver lining to every cloud.
Alex forced down a deep breath, and then another, and continued to remind himself to keep breathing. There was no reason to be this nervous about going to work as a cashier and merchandise stocker for minimum wage. Except, maybe, this was his first real, law-abiding, tax-paying job. Ever.
He did his best to shrug off the anxiety and grabbed his coat, heading out the door to report for duty.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Homophobia and Hate
I just finished watching The Laramie Project (movie version) with my mom, which prompted us to go into another conversation about my sexuality.
My mom is scared for me, and fear is a natural feeling for her to have for her daughter. We live in a small town, and I am queer. She is terrified for me, and wants me to be more quiet about it so as to not attract any more attention than necessary. Not because she doesn't love me and accept me, but because she is scared of the hate that she knows exists in the world.
She is scared that I don't understand the hate, and that I don't understand how the hate will wear on my soul.
I don't know how to tell her that she doesn't understand.
I can't live in the closet anymore, I can't protect myself with a lie. That is such an oxymoron. I would be trying to protect myself with a lie.
Living a lie wears on my soul, too.
Both actions grate away at my existence: if I hide who I am, I can not live with myself, but if i live who I am other people will hate me for it.
The thing is, if I am in the closet I am tortured and alone. If I am in the open, I will still be tortured, but there will be people who I can reach out to, people who will understand, accept, and share life with me.
I cannot torture myself alone anymore. I cannot live that lie.
For better of for worse, I will continue to live as I am, I will continue to be me, and I will refuse to let anyone else destroy my self image for it.
I do not choose to be queer. That is not a choice. My identity is not a choice. My choice is that I will no longer live in fear.
My mom is scared for me, and fear is a natural feeling for her to have for her daughter. We live in a small town, and I am queer. She is terrified for me, and wants me to be more quiet about it so as to not attract any more attention than necessary. Not because she doesn't love me and accept me, but because she is scared of the hate that she knows exists in the world.
She is scared that I don't understand the hate, and that I don't understand how the hate will wear on my soul.
I don't know how to tell her that she doesn't understand.
I can't live in the closet anymore, I can't protect myself with a lie. That is such an oxymoron. I would be trying to protect myself with a lie.
Living a lie wears on my soul, too.
Both actions grate away at my existence: if I hide who I am, I can not live with myself, but if i live who I am other people will hate me for it.
The thing is, if I am in the closet I am tortured and alone. If I am in the open, I will still be tortured, but there will be people who I can reach out to, people who will understand, accept, and share life with me.
I cannot torture myself alone anymore. I cannot live that lie.
For better of for worse, I will continue to live as I am, I will continue to be me, and I will refuse to let anyone else destroy my self image for it.
I do not choose to be queer. That is not a choice. My identity is not a choice. My choice is that I will no longer live in fear.
Monday, December 20, 2010
Homophobic Grama
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!
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!
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.
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