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profile

she wants you to think she is.
black background
splotches of
(you'd like to be)
p!nk
tough and hip
-hop slang
lyrics and shoutouts
(private jokes disguised
secret
agents of your pride
of social animals)
and i read it and laugh
softly (gentler?)
--don't--
you know
if our parents saw
your harsh street language
(not our street: calm, quiet
lane on the nice side of town) they'd
ground you
pull you down
from floating with friends
airy insubstantial
weightless
free?



fun with line breaks and attempted double meanings: let me know, does it come through? And another question, why is it I'm coming up with all this angsty poetry inspired by AIM, of all things?
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It's strange how the more things I have to do the fewer I actually get around to... it's that overwhelmingness thing, I guess, where I end up in dazed contemplation of my list of tasks and finally figure I'll never make a dent in it anyways so screw this. Of the three relatively important ones for this weekend -- shoveling cleaning my room, outlining those five bobs for the philosophy exam, and calling to find subs for my hours at the library I'll miss while in Greece -- through noone's fault but my own, I doubt I'll get to any before Monday, which is pretty sad.

Oh yeah, and as anyone reading this is probably going "what in the world is a bob?" -- I'll relate the story as my teacher told us. Evidently one year on the exam some student pointed out writing three out of five essays in two hours, in addition to answering eight out of ten short answer questions, was a ludicrous demand. My teacher pointed out that since intro and conclusion weren't required, they weren't really essays, and the student wondered why the paper said "essays" then. So my teacher called them something else: Bobs. The end.

...And that's all for tonight. valete, omnes!
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As repayment for depressing myself and everyone else with that list of unattainable goals, here's a comic on the subject of resolutions that cracked me up. Warning: complete geek humor. :)
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*warning: the following entry is below even my usual standards of sanity*

I'm getting guitar calluses. One on my right thumb, left side, where I strum the strings. This one is some sort of strange uncomfortable callus-blister hybrid. The other two on the side of my left index finger near the joints, with the more prominent of the pair on the second joint, from bar chords. But none on the bottom tips of my fingers from normal fingering. I am strangely dissatisfied. You'd think they'd be in the latter location, since I make a point of playing normal chords far more than bars, but nooooo. They show up in weird spots that only make sense on further consideration. Bah.

Okay, now that I've got that out of my system... I'm going to get off my rear now (metaphorically) and dig up and post that Buffy fanfic poem. Really I am. When/if I get it up, you'll find it on my profile on fanfiction.net, and feedback will be as always immensely appreciated.
(edit, later) It's up now, here, in all its Spuffy goodness. Review! Now! Please, pretty pretty please, with virtual ice cream and a cherry and a warm soft chocolate chip cookie?
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I tried in vain to post this as a note for you, and failed miserably, so it's here instead.

RYN, and as Cassandra, you just have to watch out for those jealous, paranoid wives with axes. :P

And, while we're on the subject of Homer, I've found this Iliad: The Musical thing, including such songs as "Criminally Insane and Mentally Obtuse" and "Pi", complete with midis. Impressive, in a funny scary way. There are very silly people out there with more free time than me! Planning to peruse that one in depth later, as I've been informed that I must go clean the sunroom now... bah.
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"Leaving the Ocean" got into the lit magazine. Yay!

Strange, these me-versus-the-rest-of-the-staff feelings I get from submitting poetry. Deep seated anger and all that good stuff. Or something. I have to go catch my ride now to go to work, so there will be no constructivity or even sanity in this entry. By now this should be no surprise.

Question: is it appropriate to push for one's own work in meetings deliberating upon it? I feel like if the poem can't stand without me holding it up and explaining it maybe it shouldn't be in -- but on the other hand I feel like they were missing obvious parts of what meaning there was. I mean, it got in and the point is moot... but for future reference... Possible further contemplation on this later. *runs off*
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Stolen again from the adroit Wolf Woman...

1. What is your biggest flaw?
I procrastinate. Lots. For example, I have all my real classes tomorrow and the homework done for, let's see, maybe two out of five? And I'm doing surveys.

2. Are you willing to admit to something you know you did wrong?
Yes. But I won't take the blame for something I *didn't* do, even if it's minor, in order to appease the world at large.

3. What is the biggest misconception people get about you?
Possibly that I'm sane.

4. If your name was based on your personality what would it be?
I was gonna go look up something with a meaning of intelligent, but then I discovered every female name remotely related to the idea has more connotations of wise, which is not me. Names like "Prudence". Bah. Anyways, then I got distracted by the name Nissa, which evidently is Scandanavian with a meaning along the lines of friendly elf. I think that's cool. Er, what was the question again?

5. What's your birthstone?
Amethyst.

6. Are most people normal?
No, but many would like to think they are. Sheep.

7. If you had to say one thing about your future what would it be?
I hope it's what I hope it'll be, but it probably won't be.

8. If you had to retire to some far off land right at this moment, who would you like to come with you?
My mom, maybe. Though hey, does it have to be people I know? Can I say James Marsters?

-Who would you least like to come with you?
My brother Seifer. Though if it were a desert island I can't think of anyone better sacrificed to cannibalism.

9. Why don't people smile more often?
Cause life sucks sometimes? And because if you smile too much they figure out that you're crazy. (who, me, know this from experience?) And because it's not cool to be content. :P

10. Do you think everything works out in the long run?
Maybe. I won't know till the long run's over anyways, will I?

11. Are you religious?
Yeah. Somewhat spiritual too, isn't it great?

12. What is one thing about why you're either religious or why you're not?
I'm religious cause my parents are, and because it's a community I've become involved in. I'm spiritual because I just believe there's a higher power, though maybe not one I could name and describe.

13. If you are religious, how can you be so sure there is a higher power out there?
Because there is. Because it's easier to believe? Because.

14. If you aren't religious, how can you be so sure there isn't a higher power out there? n/a

15. Are you open to other people's views on religion and life and general, be honest?
I think so, within limits, those being that you can believe whatever the heck you want, knock yourself out, as long as you're not hurting anyone else.

16. Do you leave things up to chance, or are you constantly perfecting and worrying?
I worry. A lot. More than perfecting, which I do more than chancing.

17. What game show would you most like to be on?
Ummmm... Jeopardy maybe? Or how about a game show of my own devising, where all you have to do is show up and they give you lots of money?

18. What game show would you do best on?
Survivor. Or that Joe Millionaire one. Gag me.

19. Do you have a _______ smile?
-movie star: nope
-hillbilly: nope
-game show host: nope
-politican: nope
-escaped convict: heh heh heh... nope
-a innocent child's: nope


20. What are you doing to make sure your dreams come true?
Answering surveys. I'm sure I can make up some farfetched connection between the two eventually.
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A semi-continuation of that entry from a day or two ago.

Question: Is one obliged to answer with one's true opinion questions like the following, paraphrased from my philosophy test: "You see two kids -- honor students, got into Yale, blah blah blah -- stealing a teacher's laptop. Without thinking, you immediately go to the (insert-school-authority-figure-here) and tell. Using what you've learned from Aristotle's stuff, is your action virtuous?"

Personally, I'd tell in an instant. Without thinking, and screw if it ruins their lives. Let's all say it together, boys and girls: stealing is wroooooong.

But that's not the side I chose to argue on the test. Instead, since we'd spent several classes discussing Aristotle's opinion that actions must be backed by reason in order to be truly virtuous, I attacked the "without thinking... immediately" part of the question and argued that since said reason is lacking the action doesn't count as virtuous according to Aristotle. That big gaping hole in the argument begs for the answer I gave, regardless of my personal opinion on the matter. I think it's Right to tell, but I think that it's easier to argue that Aristotle wouldn't have thought so.

My teacher, though, was surprised at the number of people who argued that telling wasn't virtuous according to Aristotle. He pointed out that really, it's courageous to tell, and presumably everyone's thought about stealing and its Wrongness before, though perhaps not in this particular event. And fine, excellent points all, and that would have been a wonderful way to do it. But it wasn't the semi-incorrect answer aspect that seemed to upset him, it was more that so many of us had justified keeping your mouth shut. And as the discussion unfolded, several people confirmed that it was their real opinion, that they thought you'd be ruining the larcenous honor students' lives, that they themselves had stolen in past, and "let he who is without sin cast the first stone", since they're no better themselves.

But I suspect I wasn't the only one sitting quietly in class thinking, I thought this was the answer you were looking for. I thought this was the answer that would help me pass this class. And frankly, this being a hypothetical question on the only test of the quarter, I felt that it was more important to try to give the correct answer than to attempt to justify what I would really do by referencing a dead Greek guy. Philosophy and deep questions are wonderful, and I think I'm learning interesting stuff in the course, but ultimately I think my decisions in life will have far more to do with how I was raised and my own personal code of honor, the stone of which is beginning to set as I grow perilously close to seventeen, which is almost eighteen, which is an ominous age indeed.

Before I go wax poetic and incoherent, the point is this. It's a test. It counts towards our grade, which counts toward our admittance to college, which we as high schoolers have been conditioned to believe the entire rest of our life depends upon. I don't think it's justified to be scandalized at people giving what they think is the correct answer rather than the Right answer.

Of course, I got an 81 on the test. Class average was mid-eighty-ish. It hurts. So really, what do I know?

(I would appreciate a rousing round of "81 is not failing!" appearing in my notes here about now. :) )
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Every year I wonder why I bother, since I never manage to keep any of these silly things anyways. But here's the list for 2003...

~Write. Something creative or introspective or humorous or at least with a bit of work on it twice a week at least. Diary entries only count if they're reasonably long or thought out or whatever. School stuff doesn't count unless it'd be decent outside the context of the assignment.

~Exercise, semi-regularly at least. If there's one I'm least likely to keep, this is it, but since I'm not very likely to keep any of them it's a rather pointless honor. But it goes on the list anyways, just like every year, in hopes this year will be the one I actually do something about it.

~Get a decent website running. One with actual content and design would be really nice. Good practice as well as personal entertainment and everything.

~Work on that programming stuff of Dad's that I keep putting off. Learn forms, get it down, do that one project I have started. I realize this is vague -- as usual, possible further details later, or maybe not. :)

So that's the list, to be forgotten and abandoned within a week as usual. *rereads previous sentence* Should have put on optimism, too, huh? Ah, well. Those are the goals that I will doubtless fail to achieve in all sorts of amusing ways this year. :P

a theory

Jan. 1st, 2003 03:30 pm
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This little scene spawned in my cluttered mind while I was trying to write that paper on whether or not I agree with Aristotle's Nicomachean Ethics earlier tonight.


It is late afternoon, circa 350 BC (yes, I'm too lazy to find a real date) and Aristotle is sitting in his tablinium -- no, wait, that's Roman. Okay, whatever the Greek equivalent of study or office is. He's there. He's got pages of notes arrayed around him and he's finishing up the final arguments of the Ethics, but he's got writer's block.

Aristotle: Hm. I've been talking about human interaction and things like wit and friendliness and mildness as the virtues that will help people live the Best Life. But I want a twist ending.

Close up on paper: "Hence complete happiness will be its activity in accord with the proper virtue; and we have said that this activity is _______________."1 Aristotle has begun doodling obscene pictures in the margins when there is a tentative knock at the door.

Random Slave: I've brought your wine, master...

He hands Aristotle a glass.

Aristotle: Good. Hey, wait! Give me a verb ending in -ing!

Random Slave: (with long-suffering look at his master, surrounded in books) Um, studying?

Aristotle: Excellent!

Aristotle fills in the blank and starts writing again, justifying this new and completely random addition to the work.


And there you have it. Why Book X of the EN doesn't fit with the rest of the book, and the origin of Mad Libs. Ta-da! I'll just bless whatever turn of history saved me from trying to justify or argue against a classic work of history that turns its 360 degress from social interaction to, say, gardening. Or square dancing. (As we have said, the life in accordance with virtue must be complete; and we have said that the craft of square dancing embodies coordinated action between people as well as athletic activity. Hence complete happiness can be achieved only through the best type of square dancing, in accord with the virtue concerned with square dancing, which is the mean between waltzing and polka...)

I guess I should probably go finish writing that paper now. Just had to get this out somewhere so it doesn't show up in the final draft I have to hand in to my teacher tomorrow -- I can just see the big red question mark in the margin now.

1 -- As ripped straight out of my copy of Nicomachean Ethics. If you're morbidly curious, it's the second edition Terence Irwin translation, (c) 1999, and most assuredly not mine.
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So is it a bad sign that I've nothing better to do at 12:03 New Year's morning than post this?
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Still haven't started that Aristotle paper, you know, the one due in two days. It makes me very very unhappy that many of my siblings don't have school until the sixth -- bah humbug. If I have to go back to school on Thursday everyone else should too.

Something about reading all this Buffy fanfic has sparked my muse, I guess, because at one am last night (er, this morning I suppose) I felt the deep need to sit down with my laptop and write angsty season sixish poetry. (This in spite of the fact that I have yet to see three-quarters of the season. Why can't I come up with season 1/2 ideas?) I tried to ignore it so it would go away but it wouldn't, so I wrote it so I could get to sleep. I plan to reread it at some point today, see how badly it sucks, and if it's not that terrible then I'll go post it on fanfiction.net. We'll see.
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So I was over at a friend's house the other night, and she'd downloaded the Buffy musical episode ("Once More With Feeling") from somewhere, and so I finally got to see it -- I loved it, of course. And conveniently enough, as I struggle with bar chords and search for more songs to practice on, what do I find but this. :) Also, lyrics and possibly audio here.

Spent a while trying to play Beth Nielson Chapman's song Happy Girl... I didn't make it to halfway decent, but got at least to the point where it was recognizable. (And I've the aching fingers to prove it.) So that was kinda fun. While I can manage to play the bar chords in that, mostly, I can't do it straight off of the preceding chord. There's this long pause in between chords that I'd like to get good enough to do away with, someday.
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Philosophy group project: design an ideal school. Explain its curriculum, what virtues it teaches, and what kind of people it'll turn out. Name it. Motto?

The name of my group's project is the "Harmony 2 Peetie O C School of Refrigeration and Philosophy". I think that says about all that needs to be about that.

But hey, we may be the least focused group ever, we may be more silly than anything else, we may have little idea how this relates to Aristotle, we may all be about to get big fat F's on this project -- but at least we're having fun doing it.

Highlights of the H2POCSoRaP:
  • Obligatory mandatory refrigeration course -- teaches a craft and practical wisdom!
  • Graduation ceremony involves walking over a pit of hot coals, chased by ravenous tigers, guaranteeing that every surviving graduate will be able to take care of themselves in dangerous situations!
  • Corporal punishment Positive as well as negative reinforcement encourages virtues of honesty, generosity, and friendliness!


Maybe if we're really lucky the teacher will be laughing too hard to grade it. *crosses fingers*
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Naked Quidditch Match -- HP fanfic, obviously, told through e-mails around Hogwarts, and thoroughly amusing.


And on a different note entirely, Approaching Ragnarok, a bittersweet FFVII semi-vignette about Sephiroth and Zack.

"maybe"

Dec. 9th, 2002 03:36 pm
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"Leaving the Ocean" earned a maybe from the wolves of the lit magazine. I think this is the first time I've sat in on a criticism of my writing in which noone knew it was mine, and so no one felt compelled to spare my delicate feelings.

That said, I've discovered I actually have delicate feelings. Sort of. I didn't think I did, and I'm not offended or anything -- they've certainly said worse -- but ... but ... but yeah, it's different when it's my baby -- I mean, my poem -- on the dissection table. You know? They said it was all one long sentence, they said they didn't quite understand the forgetting bit, they said a few other things that shouldn't have touched me and I wasn't in tears or anything, it was all stuff I was glad in some way to hear because I like constructive criticism, I need to know where I'm screwing up in order to get better -- but much as I'd love to stand apart (calm cold hard independent strong) some of it kind of did the whole twanging the heartstrings thing. *sigh* But I'll get over it. And I mean, lest I portray the lit mag staff as unthinking people without an ounce of introspection or poetry in their souls, they acknowledged one long sentence = one thought = one moment which is so easily forgotten despite any magnitude it might have. I'm just far too sensitive for my own good, and those "no" votes hurt. Gah.

Discovery of the day: all the cool kids have livejournals. Note 2/8/03: ok, me too now. Today's meeting led to the discovery of one person's, and perusal thereof led to a few others. Intellectually I've realized: duh, there are probably other bloggers in the school, but I suppose that goes on the list of things that aren't quite real until they smack you in the face. This list is definitely approaching the magnitude where it needs some direction and possibly a poem about it. Later, though. I have to run in a minute or two because my parents are giving me a ride to work so I'm not as horribly late from taking the late bus as I have been lately, for once, and this evening I have to write that summary I've been putting off, the one that's several days late now, and teach my little sister to knit.

By the way, knitting (grandmotherly as it may sound) is actually pretty relaxing. It's very repetitive movement, once you get used to it, and good for doing while watching TV that you don't have to pay much attention to. And, you know, it's productive and stuff. It's especially productive if you use thick, fluffy yarn and size 15 needles (relatively thick) so it goes faster. I actually made my way through an entire skein of yarn yesterday, between car rides, watching Squall play Kingdom Hearts, and a couple episodes of Buffy.
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...to convince myself it's halfway worth it to write here when I realize the site is vulnerable to long annoying outages at inopportune times. Bah. Note: Kindly realize that this comment was in reference to FOD, may my diary there RIP.

On the positive side, under three more hours of school till vacation! No more school for the rest of 2002! (Never mind that that consists of what, 11 days.) Yay!

I've got a ton of wrapping and stuff to do before Christmas -- and, crud, a little more shopping for some of my family at my dad's house. Bad Qwerty, procrastinating on shopping.

I guess that one needs a positive comment to balance it out too, so: it seems everyone in school has candy that they are willing to share. This has totally made my day. Also, my friend burned the Buffy "Once More With Feeling" episode onto a CD for me, along with the soundtrack, so I'm all happy and stuff. Yay!

No point to this entry, really. Sorry to waste your time. :P *wanders off to programming class humming "Rest in Peace"*
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The Tough Guide To Harry Potter -- based off of The Tough Guide to Fairyland (IIRC), which I haven't yet read but have been meaning to for ages. Yeah. Anyways -- haven't finished the fic either, but it has some very amusing things to say about HP fandom...

What's with me on this Harry Potter kick anyways? I read just one, and then I start checking favorites listss, and next thing I know here I am with two open right now and a long list of more fics to read. Instead of writing my programming project summary. Oh well, I think the teacher pushed back the due date to Monday anyways. At least, I *hope* she did.
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... I am really going to have to learn bar chords. My hands are relatively large for a girl, and my guitar is relatively small, so the issue is mostly my gross lack of dexterity. Er. I should probably define a bar chord at this point. As you may or may not know, when playing a guitar one normally holds down one string with one finger. With bar chords, one indulges in a bit of finger gymnastics, the goal of which is to press all six strings with one finger laid across the neck of the guitar. It seems easy till you factor in that you have to hold the strings pretty hard, and for me at least the G string tends to sneak up into that indent between the second part of my index finger, so it gets muted instead of played, not to mention that while this little bit of acrobatics is going on you have to simultaneously twist your middle, ring and/or pinky fingers over a fret or two to further modify the notes of some strings. My fingers go on strike when I attempt to get them to do that. This is why I'm terrible at playing guitar. I am, though, getting a kick out of quietly mauling Eve 6's Open Road Song up here in my room, occasionally with the CD accompanying me, or just singing myself. I'll link the tabs I downloaded later; far too lazy now.



And now for something entirely different: The No-Shipper's Anthem, an amusing little piece of Harry Potter fanfic (if you're not too easily insulted.)
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I've an essay due on Aristotle's views of friendship tomorrow. Don't know how I'm going to write 2-3 pages on what essentially boils down to the following -- There are 3 kinds of friendship: friendship for money, friendship for sex, and real friendship, which only really really cool people can have.

Oh yeah, and I just remembered I've an interview to do with a parent for my wellness class, which is the second most boring thing on earth (next to Nicomachean Ethics). Pretty much: have the sex talk. Prepare to tell the class about it. It's late already and one of about three homework assignments that are a large part of whether I pass the class or fail and have to take it again, so I have to turn it in. Bah.
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