So, I’ve been doing some thinking. Not very deep, soul-searching thinking, just random stuff, and an old idea of mine came to mind.

I think, personally, that the quote “A friend in need is a friend indeed” is misunderstood in today’s society. For example, it is often used as the base moral in at least one episode of nearly any children’s show, and used in such a way so that it proves that friends need help. While this is true, that is not what I find the quote itself to mean.

Let’s look at it in pieces: First off, you have “A friend in need”. This means that someone you know is in need. They want something, or need something from you. Then, “Is a friend indeed.” I’ve only ever seen this translated as a literal fact, showing that a friend in need is indeed a “true friend.”

I don’t think that’s the meaning.

I think the quote is meant to be taken in a more ironic way. Such as, a friend in need is a friend who will play suck up and helpful until they get what they want. “A friend in need is a friend indeed!” with sarcastic emphasis on the italics.

I find it odd how people manage to worm that as a good thing into our minds. It’s not! It’s merely pointing out the manipulative manner in which people can operate. Now, there is morality in the idea that a friend who helps a friend in need is indeed a friend, but he who is in need may not truly be a friend indeed. That’s all it means.

I was talking with a friend the other day, and I brought up the reason why I don’t mind people misspelling my name. “Do you know how many ways there are to spell Shawna?”

Now me, I was sarcastically emphasizing the five ways I knew of then. But my friend, who may be a tad more literal minded, thought we’d find out exactly. So, here is our list of the 42 ways to spell “Shawna”.

Shawna               Seana                Shauna                  Shana   

Shawnna            Seanna               Shaunna               Shanna

Shawnnah          Seannah            Shaunnah             Shannah

Shawnah            Seanah                Shaunah             Shanah

Shawnuh           Seanuh                Shaunuh              Shanuh

Shawnnuh         Seannuh              Shaunnuh            Shannuh  

Chawna                                         Chauna                Chana

Chawnna                                       Chaunna              Channa

Chawnnah                                     Chaunnah            Channah

Chawnah                                       Chaunah              Chanah

Chawnuh                                      Chaunuh              Chanuh

Chawnnuh                                    Chaunnuh            Channuh

Plus one weird one. People spell my name this way but it makes no sense.

Shanwa.

Yeah, a lot of these people just won’t use, like the “Ch” ones (It works- in some languages, “Ch” can replace “Sh”), but still, it’s a massive amount for one rather uncommon name.

On November 23 (when I should have posted this), the N64 game Zelda: Ocarina of Time celebrated its tenth birthday.

OoT is well known among gamers, as both a turning point in video games and a fond experience. In 2006 the magazine Nintendo Power named it the number one Greatest Nintendo Game ever produced.

But for me, it holds an especially sentimental place as my favorite game of my favorite series. OoT was the first video game I ever saw, watched, and played. One of my early fanfictions was based entirely on its plotline.

But in October of this year, VizKids came out with the manga version of the game. Naturally, as the obsessive fangirl I am, I jumped to buy and read it.

I’m sorry to say, I was thoroughly disappointed.

The first two chapters were fine, in their way. They quickly and clearly set up the plot. In summary, Link is brought to the Great Deku Tree as an infant, and his mother dies at its roots. He is brought up among the Deku Tree’s children, the Kokori, and is shunned due to his lack of a fairy, which, according to Mido, is “Just another part of [a kokori]. Like [their] hands and feet!”

Soon, though, Link does receive a fairy- Navi is sent to call him to his destiny. Link, followed by a jealous Mido, goes to the great Deku Tree, who is being eaten away by Gohma.

Thus the story begins. From here, the story bolts from a decent, if slightly brisk pace to a full-on sprint, as though the authors were trying to fit as much into the near 200 pages as they possibly could. Volume one spans every level from Gohma to the end of the fire temple, plus a modified encounter with Shadow Link and several extra plot additives, including an unsuspecting play-date with Princess Zelda. While the extras were entertaining, they were rushed and not fully fleshed out. For example, during Link’s fight with Volvagia in the Fire Temple, there is a flashback that depicts a scene where a young Link spent every rupee he had to purchase a baby dragon in Hyrule market, claiming that he was “rescuing it”. Their relationship is rocky, with our hero being burnt and bit at every turn, but they quickly become friends. As it turned out, Volvagia was that same baby dragon, who had been cursed by Ganon, and no longer remembered Link. Sheik informs Link that the only way to break the spell is to kill Volvagia, which our hero first refuses, but is then forced to do.

Now, while the idea is a good one, the execution of it was poorly done. The whole scene, from the dragon’s purchase to their friendship spans all of three pages. Including the battle, everything is squashed to a mere fifteen. The rest of the book runs at this break-neck speed, stretching each scene from five to seven pages on average. Parts that could have been emotionally moving were so hurried they failed to leave any impact at all.

It might be interesting to note that while the book does span several levels, the chapters only deal directly with battling the bosses. Parts of the game, such as puzzle solving and making one’s way through the temples are cut. It is understandable, though, as a description of every little puzzle would grow tedious. However, this also cuts out some interesting mini-bosses, or, in the case of the Fire Temple, the imprisonment of all the Gorons, which is only mentioned in passing, and only as a direct reference to Darunia.

The plot, however, is the only thing working against it. The art itself is beautifully rendered, staying rather close to the concept art of the original game. No detail is spared, and the page layout is rendered in an aesthetic and easy-to-read style.

The characters receive the same rushed treatment as the plot, but not to such an extent. Several secondary characters, such as Mido and Ruto, are reinvented to contain more depth than their video game counter-parts. Ruto, who is swallowed by Lord Jabu-Jabu, is actually in hiding from an arranged marriage, a personal statement against her treatment as more her father’s doll than a person. More central characters, though, such as Impa and even Zelda herself do not receive this same “fleshing out”.

As a manga, it’s probably only enjoyable for die-hard fans of the game. The average reader, having no background in the series, will likely find themselves lost among the plot and numerous characters.

*~IN MEMORIUM~*

Hiccup- Born July 24, 2008-Died September 17, 2008, at exactly seven weeks old.

Hiccup was the sole survivor of a litter of two, born to Rurouni, my own cat. Within her first days she was crying (Loudly, waking me at ungodly hours as she lived her early weeks beneath my bed.) and crawling around. She went through many names, including Toulouse and Gurgi, before we settled-originally as a joke, upon Hiccup, due to her habit of breaking into her namesake. She grew quickly, and, as the sole kitten, was given massive amounts of attention by all members of our family- including my mother, who as a rule never attaches herself to cats due to a superstition that they will meet an untimely death. Despite her active and energetic personality, she was easily subdued and enjoyed resting calmly on the laps and shoulders of the members of our household.

Unfortunately, the attention we gave to her sapped away from the attention we paid to the other animals. Rurouni herself did not seem to mind- She could leech off of her child’s attention, as she watched over her like a hawk. (Rurouni has given birth to several litters- of maybe five to seven litter, approximately four kittens survived past the first night, as the kittens are, unfortunately, likely inbred.) But our dog, Merlyn, did not like the situation. He is a generally aggressive dog, and once killed another kitten (Bedbug) over a watermelon rind someone had dropped on the floor.

On September 15, late at night, just as we were heading to bed, Merlyn attacked Hiccup. No one actually saw it happen, But we heard it, and Hiccup was found lying on the floor, bleeding from one ear. We called a veterinarian, who took an hour before they arrived at their office (To be fair, it was rather late at night.) Hiccup was not moving, and while her spine was intact, we believed she suffered brain damage. She was given two shots of steroids, before we were sent home at 1:00 that morning. Hiccup remained in a comatose state for the next day, finally passing away early in the morning September 19.

Only two pictures exist of Hiccup.

<img src="http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y289/dekujama/HiccupYoung.jpg" border="0" alt="Young Hiccup">

This is Hiccup at about four weeks.

I learned something new about myself! If I forget to put on deoderent, then go biking in the rain, the combination of rainwater and armpit sweat smells vaugely of coffee. 
Truly, this is the greatest of worlds.

Well, I’m more or less officially in the employ of the rising superpower McDonald’s. I have officially clawed my way up to the lowest of possible jobs.

Truth is, after a simple day of mere training and decently friendly patrons, I fail to see why it’s so looked down upon.

I had an easy day, even a good day (discounting when I fell off my bike into newly paved tar- that was painful, and forgot my ID and Social Security Number so I could finish my paperwork, and had to bike a whole ‘nother hour back and forth to get them.) but the inferiority stigma attached to the job really dragged me down. I’m not an idiot. I have a little trouble running the register, but that’s because I don’t have the entire menu memorized and therefore don’t know all the categories and abbreviations. So it’s hard. It didn’t help that I was too afraid to leave the register for a break because there’s this thing… where you’re not allowed to use a register someone else is in charge of… and every time I wandered off to wipe down a table or wash my hands I needed to race back to the register to complete someone’s order. Oddly, there are three registers in our little corner street McDonalds. Only once in six hours do I remember another one opening up.

But yeah, it’s a hard job. The floors behind the counter are greasy and difficult to walk upon in normal shoes (Actually, I need to get “slip resistant” shoes as part of the dress code.), and I spent six hours on my feet, without sitting down, plus three hours biking preceeding and following immediately.

I’ve been finding a lot of old stuff lately.

Mostly old memory junk, and a lot of it is in stores or yard sales, so it’s not really mine, but more like stuff resembling stuff that used to be mine but got lost, or were never mine to begin with. Things like “The Last Unicorn”, a movie which happens to be on it’s 25^th-ish anniversary. Found in Walmart. Purchised. Watched. And for once, a movie I loved doesn’t actually suck now that I’m older. Sure, the book still wins (Now that I’m older, I’ve found and read that. I was so happy.) but the movie’s not bad. I fell in love with Schmendrick all over again.

And then there’s the microphone to my old “Hey You! Pikachu!” game that I thought was lost and gone forever. I haven’t found the plug for it, so it’s still pretty useless, and of course everyone else on the internet has lost theirs, so none of them are sold separately and I’d have to pay like thirty bucks to get a complete new game with all the accessories, and all I can think is “Nintendo 64”’s two console generations out of date and you’re selling it at that price?! I suppose there are people who’ll buy it at that, but I’m not one of them. Nope. I’ll go back to scrounging around my basement, it’s cheaper.

So I’m a cheap bitch. Sue me.

I also found an old beat up walkthrough book for “Ocaraina of Time” in a video game trade store. OoT has a special place in my heart as the game that introduced me to all video games, and I used to read my friends’ copy of the guide as they played the game, that one glorious summer that I spent with them all…

Of course, that same copy was later ripped and/or lost, so I bought this new (old) one. For memory’s sake. It doesn’t seem like yesterday, I don’t care what you corny TV people say, but I remember when my friends (All my friends were dudes back then…) tried to teach me how to play, and could only roll their eyes and tear at their hair when I insisted that all I wanted to do was grab that damn cucco and leap off the tallest structure I could find… And all they wanted was for me to get bored with that so they could reclaim the controller and whack the shit out of some monster… and I never got bored of flying…

Anyway, so Zelda. Happy memories. Purchaised. Skimmed. Going to play the game all over again soon. Very soon.

There are other things. Most of them are movies. Rigoletto… Secret of NIMH… Kimba… and some are just miscellaneous objects that trigger sepia-toned flashbacks. I find myself drawn to more childish subjects in my fanfiction endeavors as well (It’s funny, I’m beginning to mark my life by books and fanfiction…). I’ve recently taken up reading “Fairly Odd Parents” fics, especially those centering around Anti-Cosmo, who I never actually saw in an episode, but find fascinating nonetheless.

At the same time I’m watching all sorts of new horror movies. “Silence of the Lambs”, “Hannibal” (I’ve taken quite a shine to the Hannibal Lector character. I shall be seeking the books next.) and Masters of Horror’s “The Fair Haired Child”. I can’t say they were particularly scary, but they were interesting anyway.

But jumping back to childhood memories, I must say this; I have found it at last.

The one movie that dominated my childhood screen-time was originally a book. I have spent eleven or so years hunting this book (You can’t beat my obsession.). And at last I found it. Yes, it’s all in Croation- no one’s bothered to translate it into English. No, I don’t speak, read, or write Croatian. But yes, I have a Croatian-English dictionary and a book on basic Croatian grammar, and with God as my witness I will translate that book one word at a time. I’ve already finished a chapter. The book is called Čudesna Šuma. The movie “The Elm-Chanted Forest” is based off of it. A whole chapter of my life has come to a close and a new one has begun with this book.

Wow, I’m really lame, aren’t I?

Not for money, or fame, but partially for amusement and a touch of pride, I have placed my translation of the first chapter online for those who too, seek the origin of a childhood love. http://www.fanfiction.net/secure/live_preview.php?storyid=4332569

I suppose I'm a little melodramatic, yes?

As of late, I've been doing a great deal of self examination. I'm just not sure of what I am these days.

I know I'm straight, but I'm begining to wonder if being gay would be easier to deal with, considering practically all of my closest comrades seem to be bisexual or highly effeminate. Anyone I dare to hope to crush on turns out to be gay! Except for that one guy who was taken. In what appears to be a close, happy relaitionship. Goddammit! I mean, I shouldn't be annoyed with this. I know I probably can't handle a boyfriend, but sometimes I just... wish. And that guy who hugged me three times at Portcon, the total stranger... uke pin. Also gay. Sibley? No chance really, totally different tastes, but funny, and charming, and cute, and... gay. Gay gay gay gay gay. 

I think it's in my blood. My mom's told me that I take after the Polands, or my grandmother's side. And, unfortunately for me, they have a track record of dying unwed, and alone. Is this to be my fate? Am I supposed to die unwed and alone, like some of my great aunts and uncles? Would it really be so bad? Could I even stand being with one person day in and day out? But then, I'm thinking too far ahead again. I'm seventeen. Barring natural disaster and calculating family history, I should have a good seventy years to seek out a mate. Still... maybe something's wrong with me. Maybe I missed my chance back when guys actually did ask me out.

And then, what do I do with those seventy years? I've wanted to be a lighthouse keeper, but it's all becoming automated. Not that I should lose hope. I'm certain there are some I could still deal with. So then I thought I'd be a librarian. I still think I might do that. That might be nice. Plus all the current librarians in the world are old and gray, and should be dropping off like flies any day now. 

But then again, there're all the jobs I must put behind me before I can have a career. The sweeping and mopping, the dishwashing and waitressing, and shelf stocking and cashiering and burger flippin that one must learn and do before advancing to "real" jobs. And I started late. My peers have all held or been holding jobs for years now. I only just got my first real, not-babysitting job last month. My mother has been pushing me to get another job, but I have such little experiance I despair of ever reaching any goals I've set. I almost had a job as an intern in the DRA, but alas, the only other applicant had "more experiance." 

Experiance.

Where the hell do I get that  when I need it to get it?

Am I truly so inept in this world of reality? Am I so book smart that I cannot function in the world of action and decision? In truth, Librarian may be the only job I'd be good at. I already understand catalouguing systems, research tactics and I've an artistic flair for displays. What better world for me to exist in than that of rustling pages and fantasy and history and all the wonders of the world beneath a single roof?

I was once called "An asset to the world." I wish I could live up to that, for even a moment.