Into the Woods

Sun, 27 Sep 2009 03:21:56 GMT

All right, I've scoured the internet, and so far, no one, NO ONE, seems to have noticed this goof. I'm quite frankly surprised. So here-
In the film, Eddie Valient takes photos of Roger Rabbit's wife playing "patty cake" with R.K. Maroon. Here are the pictures that Roger looks at:

Urgh.. this thing won't let me post the other two pictures!!!!!

I have a horrible sinking feeling there's going to be a lot of entries like this...

Mon, 14 Sep 2009 01:19:04 GMT

Okay, so just about anyone who knows me knows the worries I had about my college roomie. A few of you even know the sad result. But get this- we've lived perfectly well together, with some courtious chitchat and basically ignoring one another. This worked out fine.

Today, was the first real annoyance.

It's petty, I know. It's stupid, I'm well aware.

A few of you are aware of this, but I'm a pretty avid Regina Spektor fan.In fact, Spektor is one of my staple smalltalk starters. So, logically, one of the first things I asked my roomie was "Have you heard of Regina Spektor?"

Answer? No.

Well, one of her firends mentioned Regina Spektor. Admittedly, she went the extra mile of actually loaning her a CD. Because my subtle "Playing Regina Spektor aloud at near every possible moment" was ineffective.

Well, guess who's now extolling the virtues of Regina Spektor?

Guess who's first words to me this evening were "Have you ever heard of Regina Spektor?"

What. The. Hell.

On the bright side, we now have something in common.

Dear Lord, I hate people

Thu, 09 Jul 2009 18:37:19 GMT

All right, so I think I understand exactly why I need to move to an island and simply remove myself from normal society. I obviously don't think like normal people.

Take, for example, an incident that happened the other day. I was working at McDonald's, and I had been a little distracted, so I forgot to put the toy in some kid's happy meal. Fine and dandy. They were eating there anyway, so all the kid had to do was come up and ask for their toy, which they did, simple enough. I head for the toy, I reach in to the bin where we keep them, I turn around, and the kid, in all seriousness is glaring at me and punching her palm with her fist, the classic ghetto sign language for I'm going to beat the shit out of you. And she was. Dead. Serious.

Now, what's her mother's first response? She laughs. What's my boss's first response? "You tell her, kid." Excuse me? What we have here is a relatively large kid threatening me with bodily harm because I forgot a $1.59 toy! My first, gut-reaction response was, Don't threaten me you little punk, I don't care if you're big for your age, I'll kick your fucking ass. I didn't say it, of course, but still.

Now, here's the thing that irks me. See, if that had been me at that age, or my sister, or nearly any of my friends, the adults would not have replied with "You tell her." They would have told me to "Knock it off, that is not how you treat people!" Here's the thing though- The kid was mentally handicapped. That changes the rules.

You see, I've noticed two things about the slow- One, they have a little difficulty understanding mid to upper level upper level sarcasm. "You tell her." in the tone that was used for the sarcasm, could be and was, mistaken for honesty. In her mind, she was being encouraged to beat the shit out of me. Two- You can see the state of the world in the way a slow person jokes. For example, I actually do have two mentally handicapped friends. I was talking to one once, and he was telling me what he thought was a funny story, about how he got into an argument over something trivial. "And you know what?" he said to me, grinning smugly. "I threatened to punch him." And he laughed. Dalton! Sweet, not-so-little-'cause-he's-really-fricken-tall Dalton! Who wouldn't hurt a fly first I met him, is now laughing at the idea of punching someone's lights out, casually. And I realized, that's just a really blunt version of jokes we make everyday. Jokes about people being hurt, maimed, murdered, told in more subtle manners, was rephrased bluntly by Dalton, and suddenly made horrifying. Because it's normal. Normalcy and psychpathy are subtly one and the same in our culture, and this is framed by those we label mentally retarded- because they don't grasp the subtility as well as the rest of us. It's something we learn.

But, anyway, back to my point. What really pisses me off in our society is the wishy-washy way we handle the slow. They live under a whole new set of guidelines than the rest of us- increasingly non-existent ones. For example, there was this one mentally challenged kid at school (and I'm infamous for this little scene, even I'll admit I behaved a little harshly.) and he was part of the chorus, so he was involved in our annual Renaissance feast. Now he comes to me and says. "Your sister looks like a stripper." Now, I'm a little protective of my sister, I've already spent the last half hour covering for other girls who aren't doing their assigned jobs, and I'm a little stressed, so I turn to him and snap "If you say that again, I'm going to break your face." And I was dead serious. Later, Abby comes to me and says, "You know, you should be nicer to him, he's slow." My first thought? Fuck slow, he's still a prick! If he had been on the same mental par as the rest of us, no one would have cared if I threatened to make him look like Picasso designed him. I would have been congratulated for defending my baby sister. But no, because he's mentally retarded, I'm the villain.

And I understand, he has a learning disability, it's hard for him to grasp social values, but you know what? People are mistaking "Learning Disability" for "Learning INability." Fucking A, people, just because someone's mentally retarded doesn't mean they can't learn social norms. Dalton may not be able to grasp violence very well, but he would never, ever go up to someone and insult their sister. He knows that's wrong. He was taught that it was wrong. News flash people,

SLOW KIDS CAN LEARN TOO.

But so many people now, instead of trying to teach them anything, sluff off their every action as, "Oh, they're slow." And like it's some magic spell, the victim here is like "Oh, I'm sorry, it's okay." No! It's not okay! People are shirking their social responsibilities to teach these people right from wrong! They think because they're slow they'll never get it! But they can and they will, it just takes a little more effort. Sure, they still might do something stupid, but so might a normal person. Just like everyone else, they learn social boundaries only if they are taught them. I'm sick of their handicap being a "Get-Out-Of-Jail Free" card for every goddamn situation! People, you want to help them? You want to end the abuse they suffer? Treat them like goddamn human beings! That means the good and the bad! They do something wrong, you correct them. They do something right, reward them, just like you do with everyone else! Don't just sluff it off to their disability. You want fucking equality? Treat people in the same fashion. Treat them like human beings, not subspecies to be tolerated!

Mon, 05 Jan 2009 19:26:45 GMT

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.

A Rose by Any Other Spelling

Mon, 08 Dec 2008 20:12:44 GMT

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.

Manga Reveiw: Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time, Volume 1

Thu, 04 Dec 2008 23:44:35 GMT

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.

A Late Memorial

Fri, 14 Nov 2008 12:37:10 GMT

*~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.

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

Hiccup only a few days before her death. One of my favorite pictures, I'm very proud of it. I didn't even have to pose it. :)

Conspiracy Theories Galore!

Thu, 21 Aug 2008 21:08:19 GMT

An ex-crush of mine once said to me, "Everything's a conspiracy with you."

I'm going to prove his point. I present to you now, Shawna's Newest Conspiracy Theory Extravaganza: Voodoo In The White House!

When the Clintons were in power, they passed a law declaring that when the wisdom teeth were removed, they had to be "disposed" of as biowaste.

Now, my dentist told me that the teeth, when removed, are "Placed in a specific BOX, with a specific LOGO, which is then picked up by a specific MAN, whose specific DUTY it is to take said box to a specific PLACE, which the dentist was unsure of. Later, the dentist receives a piece of PAPER proving that the tooth has been TAKEN CARE OF." Let's assume, for the sake of conspiracy, that these teeth are taken to the White House.

Now, in the old days, it was commonly beleived that if you had part of someone's body, say, a figernail or a TOOTH, you could control their beleifs and actions (For further reading on this subject, please consult Terry Pratchett's book, "The Hogfather", available at your local library). Plausibly, all these teeth could be used to control the voting masses.

All right, now the Clintons were Democrats. In the next coming election, which candidate won the popular vote? Democrat Al Gore. HOWEVER, thanks to the beuty of the Electoral College, they weren't grouped together enough to provide the proper electoral votes to get him the Presidency, resulting in our current President Bush, a Republican.

But now Bush has the teeth, and in his second bid for election, who won the popular vote? GEORGE BUSH, despite the fact that he was in disfavor with 57% of the American populace at the time. Why? Because he became president at the oppertune time when at least one year of pulled teeth were stored and magicked under his control, and the said bill kept even more voting teeth coming in until he had at least five years worth of voters under his sway. All they had to do was voodoo the teeth, and say VOTE REPUBLICAN. (This would also explain why Bush has yet to be impeached, and can pretty much do whatever the hell he pleases.)

That's my new conspiracy. Voodoo in the White House. Doesn't it make sense? That's why I wanted my tooth, but my family is so sensitive to most medecines that they didn't even have to count backwards to get me to pass out under the anesthesia. I was out like a broken light. Looks like I'll be voting Republican this year. (Fun fact: I'm turning 18 the day of the election! Isn't that a kick-axolotle birthday present?! Happy Birthday, pick a leader! I mean, now that the Republicans have my tooth, it might not be so cool, but they only have one tooth, thanks to the glory of my momma, from whom I inherited some freakish mutation that makes it so I'm missing teeth. I was lucky enough to be missing my wisdom teeth, and the rest of my teeth are perfect. Never needed braces. *breaks into egotistical dancing* I love my body. That will be the subject of my next post. Why I love my body. Anyway, they have one tooth, and since it was impacted, it's a broken tooth, so maybe it won't be quite so effective on me. If not... well, the internet will yeild me anti-mind control spells.)

The More Ya Know!

Thu, 31 Jul 2008 18:47:49 GMT

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.

Good and Evil

Sun, 27 Jul 2008 21:02:42 GMT

I just had a thought: Why is it, it comic books and TV shows, whenever a good guy manipulates the weakness of a bad guy to his own advantage, it's a clever strategy, but whenever a bad guy does the same, it's a low blow?

I just realized that, and this quote came to mind. It's from 8Bit Theatre:

Garland: And what kind of tactics do you useually employ?
Fighter: Oh, we usually murder our way to the top and claim victory astride a pile of mangled bodies. But we're herose so it's okay when we do it.

So, basically the moral here is "Be a good guy, because then you can get away with anything."

First day at Work! Published Seven days later!

Wed, 23 Jul 2008 23:41:37 GMT

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.

Memories I Carry On

Wed, 16 Jul 2008 20:24:36 GMT

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?

Reflection

Tue, 08 Jul 2008 19:36:06 GMT

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.

Three entries in one! Of movies, apologies and n00b's

Sat, 21 Jun 2008 16:19:42 GMT

Movies

All right, I’m going to say this once, and probably several time following, but let’s get this out of the way so you know my stand on this whole subject;

“Over Her Dead Body” pissed me off.

I’m sorry, but he gets the girl? What the hell? The girl and the other guy are fuckin’

leaving on a fuckin’ plane, for Christ’s sake, and he comes back, and she’s all over him in forgiveness? What the Hell!

Tell me, tell me, someone, please. Why did they spend all that time making us fall in love with the Not-So-Gay Guy only to have him dumped? I mean, he gets the best gags in the beginning, he’s supposedly the “Gay Best Friend”, which is a truckload of love points anyway…. He’s been through hell pleasing this girl, standing by her, supporting her for three years in a job and lifestyle that he hates, and finally gets her, and you know they’d be a good match, and you’re okay with it. You can be happy with that.

And.

He.

Gets.

The.

Girl.

But other guy, a much more supportive, understanding character, gets a consolation prize? No, I’m sorry, but just once, can’t the guy who’s quietly been working on a relationship with the girl for years get her? Just once, over the guy who caused the breakup? Just once, the guy who deserves it, the one who has never been a major jerk to her, never betrayed her, stood by her through thick and thin and hot water and booze, through breakup and heartache and joy and love get the girl? I want to see it. Just once.

Apologies

The truth is, I feel kind of bad.

You see, I had stuck my American Author report in the wrong place (Although, in my defense, we all stuck ours in them, and somehow only mine and Chiara’s went missing.), and when Mr. Manahan came to me, (And again, in my defense, he said it like he was joking. I seriously thought he was joking because his opening line was a straight faced (semi-straight, actually, he was smiling a little) “Did you know you failed English?” and really, he does joke a lot.), I thought he was joking that I hadn’t turned it in. I had turned it in, I turned it in in the same manner I thought everyone else turned theirs in, and I’ll admit I was rather obnoxious about it. Partly because I thought it was a joke, partly because he is infamous for loosing papers, and partly because I was annoyed that he had lost it. I didn’t think I was being obnoxious at the time, but I see now that I was.

In conclusion, I think it was a joint fault. I misplaced it, and he was unclear with instructions.Id did apologize though, but I kind of murdered it afterwords though. I think I mentally snapped at the word “righteous”. I believe his exact words were “You were standing there so righteous in your saying” or some such. I was saying and being righteous. But I hate being called “righteous”. I hate the word in itself. It’s such an arrogant word, and of all things I despise arrogance. So, I should say now, even if he never reads it, I apologize, Mr. Manahan. Really, I’m sorry. That was an uncalled for reaction.

I figure I should warn those of you who don’t know: if I ever apologize to you, don’t argue it. Don’t discuss it. Accept it, and run like hell, because of all things, I hate being wrong and having to apologize, and after doing so I’ll spend the next hour setting things to an acceptable, honest state in my mind, and whatever I spout next will be stupid and unhelpful, and should never be taken seriously. They should be ignored and/or laughed at.

But again, I’m sorry.

Purple bunnies eat Santa Claus for brunch.

Anyway, maybe I am arrogant. Like, blatantly, horrifically, why-do-people-hang-out-with-me arrogant. That would suck. That would really, really, suck. Nothing sucks worse than being what you hate. So really, if I’m ever arrogant in a non-jokey sort of way, anyone, please, let me know. Seriously. I really would change if that were what I am.

n00b's

I think we all start out on the internet as something of a n00b. I know I did. But acting like an idiot early on in our internet careers eventually teaches us online manners and courtesy, much like how we learn as children to be relatively polite.

And, like some children, there are some of us who never really pick up those habits. People who slither through the web spreading stupidity and bad manners upon the more seasoned netters and the impressionable newcomers. Really, it’s quite sad. Ah well.

Circles, Trolls and Elves

Mon, 19 May 2008 21:03:45 GMT

After massive amounts of Geometry (I don't CARE if the class is "Algebra II/Trig", what we're doing is fuckin' GEOMETRY.) And a quiz on subjects I missed the classes on (Not my fault. AP tests kept me away. Tough stuff.), I thoroughly have Hyperbolas, Ellipses, and Circles on my mind. And after staring at grid paper trying to comprehend how -4(x-2)2-4(y+3)2=24 makes a circle, I came upon a deluded idea that mathmaticians in Greece probably discovored, or probably not, but humor me and say that it's all mine. And original.

You know how you learn in first grade that circles have no sides? Because it's round? Well, what if TECHNICALLY, a circle has an infintessimal number of infinitely tiny sides, so small that the circle only appears round and sideless? I mean, either that or a circle is just one side. Either or.

In other news, I've devoted a great deal of time to catching up on "ElfQuest", which is nowhere near as nerdy or Tolkenesque as it sounds. Actually, it's been one of my favorite comics since about Fifth grade when I found a volume in my Library-by-Mail catalougue, and thought "OO! Elfies!!!"

And there were elfies. Many, many vicious, wolf-riding elfies about yay high and quite fascinating. And there were trolls. Arrogant trolls in the mountains. And the elves fought the humans, and the humans fought the elves, and the trolls stayed hidden until what I think was a trollein (What is that word, anyway? What's the troll equivelent for Elven? If they don't have one already, I suggest mine. Pronounce it "TROLL- eye-n") concubine stoll some alchoholic berries. And all that jazz, and all that jazz, and I started kinda after the start and way before the end, so I've been clueless all these years as to their fate, until I found them once again on the internet! Free reading! Of course, I'll probably buy some anyway, 'cuz I luvs 'em. <3

And it turns out, the one I started off on was some sort of background-spinoff! Go figure!

And my favorite charactor wound up not even being an elf. The whole reason I read it. It's not a troll either, ('Though the troll Picknose is a close runner up.) But it's kinda both! My favorite is (ba-dah!) Two-Edge! Half Troll, half elf! And no, I don't know how it happened yet either. I'm not done yet. Not quite. I just know he's kinda nuts. And I like him. ^^

All right, cafe closes in five minutes. Ciao.

Well then

Thu, 17 Apr 2008 19:46:46 GMT

I suppose I really am a lazy bitch when it comes to updating this thing. After all, I have known for quite some time that I'm going to France.

And I haven't said a damn thing.

Which is really sad because things like this don't happen to girls like me. Chubby chicks with little to no money, we don't go to fancy places like France. But thanks to the glories of American school system (Of which there are a dwindling few) I will be spending ten days in Marseille (which I probably spelt wrong) with a host family. Unfortunatly, Manon will not be coming back with me to America, as would be the norm, thanks to the recent (hah, months old) shift in the French Government.

All the same, I'm thrilled to be going. I'm leaving in threes days, and my generous midsection has been a-twist with excitement and anxiety. (I should explain that I have been blessed with both large bones and a sweet tooth that belongs in a gang. I long since accepted that I will never be anorexically thin and attractive, so I may as well cater to my sweet tooth. On occasion it allows me the healthy shizz, and I'm not in terrible shape for what I eat.) And so, I will miss three days of school (Which is both joyous and depressing- I will have to make it all up, and I'm flirting dangerously with my AP History and English Test dates.

As of now, I am still boyfriendless (I had a crush, but he's taken) and it would all be really heartbreaking if I wasn't a solid beleiver that I do not need a man in my life to make me whole. I also recently decided that it would be quite interesting to grow up (I love how we teenagers use "growing up" still, as though there's so much of it to do.) and become a lighthouse operater. I'm a Mainah, there's tons of 'em around here, and I find the smell of the sea quite calming.

That, or a film critic. I intend to (maybe) start reveiwing films and books (old ones, no doubt, but still) here along with my (few) lifetime updates.

Well, that's all I have to say. And now, a quote:

"Sucess is not perminant, and failure is not fatal." Who said it? I dunno, but it's good to know, isn't it?

Ego Boost

Fri, 08 Feb 2008 00:04:54 GMT

A most spectacular thing happened just a few days ago. It was in English class, while we were discussing syllogisms and epethymemes, which are essentially a string of logic that leads to an inevitable conclusion. For example:

Humans are mortal.

Socrates is human

Therefore, Socrates is mortal.

The whole is a syllogism, while the bottom two are epethymemes. Anyway, we were discussing how these can lead to faulty arguments, and my teacher came up with this example:

[Women are wise](this was unstated, and therefore the brackets)

Shawna is a woman.

Therefore, Shawna is wise.

And he stood there, waiting. No one spoke up to argue, even after he turned to me and said “Lucky you.”

I must say, there is no greater ego boost than people refusing to argue a statement such as that.

Coloring Books

Tue, 16 Oct 2007 19:50:33 GMT

While walking through the bookstore just yesterday, I came across one of those turning wire racks. In it, among the "How-to-Draw Manga" and sticker story books I came across an X-men coloring book. Being the near fanatic dork that I am (I say near fanatic because only one character really interests me at all.), I picked it up and flipped through it looking for Nightcrawler.

There was no Nightcrawler. It made me sad.

But quite frankly, the thing that disturbed me most was the massive quantity of ACTIVITIES in that little 22 page book. Connect the dots, cut out the masks, help who's-her-face get to what's-it's-place, match Mr. Buff with his weapon because he lost it... really, who CARES? As a kid, I know I couldn't care less about the activities in a coloring book- The draw-your-own activities once in awhile, but there were never many of those anyway. But what kid wants to spend her (or his, you politically correct Nazis) time coloring in a picture, only to butcher it cutting out a flimsy mask? I never saw the point in it. Not even as a bratling. Why do the manufacturers of coloring books insist on putting these pointless little activities in there?! Dammit, when I buy a coloring book, I want to color! Am I the only one who cares about this?!

Yes, you are, Shawna. Get a life.

My Gottverdammt Shadow

Wed, 26 Sep 2007 23:15:05 GMT

It’s truly infuriating. It’s one of those annoying, terrible, horrendous things that makes you wonder exactly what the hell is going on. Then, you run wailing down the sidewalk tearing at your hair, shrieking in mental and physical agony.

My shadow is better looking than I am.

No, I’m serious! That dark little smudge on the ground where I block the sun is hotter than I am. It looks better than I do. Whereas I may wear a dress that makes me look like a fat bimbo, on the ground, the shadow of the dress that my shadow is wearing gives my shadow alluring curves and rather nice looking legs. Then I look up at some reflective mirror and realize that the colors make me look like a sick dog. And I swear to God, my shadow laughs at me. Does that make any sense at all? That that dark little smear on the ground has somehow taken on all the physical characteristics that make one attractive, for the sheer fact that it HAS NO COLOR AND IS TWO-DIMENSIONAL?!?!?

Therefore I have come to a single conclusion. I need to find clothing that glows, and doesn’t let my pathetic three-dimensional body cast shadows anywhere. Anywhere.

Or I could lose weight. Yeah… but is denying myself the deliciousness that is provided by good (and maybe not quite wholesome) food really worth becoming attractive to a member of the opposite sex really worth it, especially when I know that I wouldn’t want to go out with them in the first place?

Aw hell, food may not last as long as men, but when you live in America, it’s a hell of a lot easier to find!

This is the part where I play a ridiculous theme song that says “Hey! Guess what! The sitcom is going to really start now!”

Oh, the drama.