Monday, September 29, 2003

The sick feeling of my stomache says I'm gonna implode my heart.

Mood: Tired, as stated. And still feeling somewhat as if I am going to barf.
Music: None, as last stated.

Last night we went to eat at Denny's. I got this BBQ Chicken Sandwich thing, and ever since I have eaten it I have felt like I am going to barf. It even carried into today--and I didn't even want to eat lunch here at school, but did. I feel a little better at least.

I hate that feeling. It's all in your stomache, and it just feels like you're going to barf. It also felt like I wasn't hungry at all, but at least I ate lunch. I do feel a little better due to this it seems.

Never eat BBQ Chicken Sandwiches at Denny's.
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Completely ignore this post if you can..

Mood: Still tired. And full--earlier I felt like I was going to barf.
Music: None. Not in the mood.

I'm basically just posting crap that I wrote for newspaper since the floppy drive is busted; and thereby doing this, I can go into the room, go here to my site, and copy and paste all this stuff into their word documents, and thereby have them on the network of our newspaper in time so that I can have the final draft of my story published and my reviews in since the deadline for everything is today.

Yes. Enough ranting.

This is the as final as final can get version of my DDR story:

The arrows dance on their faces like half crosses of some geeky, digital religion. Their legs hustle and groove as the music beats out and the arrows pass. Some sweat bleeds out onto them, staining their clothes, tainting them with water that oozes onto their shirts and their bodies. This is the new revolution. The new high.

Some of them do it for the fun of it. Some of them do it for the competitive nature of it. Others still do it for too many reasons to name. But for all of them, it's become a premise from them to come back to over and over again, each time satisfied and thoroughly rectified in their love of the game.

Senior Mack Wilz's face seems to brighten up at the single mention of Dance Dance Revolution. Like it's some baby he's grown to nurture and care for. Like it's actually something he physically loves, mentally labors and challenges himself with. And it's not too hard to find that to be true in some fashions.

"It's just so fun," Wilz said. "Plus it's a great workout as well."

Getting a workout from a game, it sounds like something crazy; something that just doesn't add into video games. But here's Dance Dance Revolution, and it's a prime example that there's actually more to video games than no values at all.

The game isn't played with a controller like millions of others. Instead, it's played with a pad having four arrows in its square; two pointing up and down parallel to another, two pointing left and right also parallel to one another. In this grid is where you dance and groove to the music. This is where you pour your heart and soul.

On the screen next and close enough for comfort to the pad, arrows just like the ones seen on the pad fly by at varying speeds and combinations. Some point just left as the beat of the music keys their coming. Some point just right, some up, some down. Other times, links of arrows are mixed together in a mesh, causing you to have to coordinate yourself to hit varying strains of arrows at once. It ends up getting more trickier than it probably sounds.

It's also obsessive to some as well. Wilz, smiling, laughing, recalls that he once played the game so long that he came close to passing out.

"I played for about 4 or 5 hours," Wilz Said. "My legs just gave out on me, and I just couldn't play any longer."

4 or 5 hours may sound long, but to some that's the way games like these are. They suck you in, let you escape and just relax for a while.

Plus there's the group aspect to it. Hanging out with friends, having a good time. For many teens it's one of the higher points of their existence. And many will readily admit that down time is needed to relieve stress.

Junior Danae Backes also could be considered something of a DDR regular. She goes nearly every day and dances to the beats and jives of the game. She, unlike Wilz, doesn't own a home version of the game, which can be bought in various types for Playstation and Playstation 2 game consoles. Instead, she goes to the Raging Rivers Water Park, where inside they have a small arcade that in one cozy corner has a DDR machine.

"I usually go alone, I'm such a loser," Backes says, grinning "Sometimes at Raging Rivers there's other people there, and we hang out. Sometimes I even bring my friends."

Whatever the case, it's obvious to see that she too loves the game in one form or another. She likes the music from the game so much that she has CDs full of songs. Some is techno. Most of it is Japanese, since that is where the game originated.

With Raging Rivers the only spot to play the game in Bismarck Mandan other than if you own the game, it seems rather far to drive as far as to Mandan to play it. Yet Backes does it, as it's certain others do. Backes, during the summer, went to Washington with her friends. There she found different machines other than the only one we have here.

"When I went to Washington with some friends," Backes said, "I got to dance on 6 different machines. Each one had different songs and stuff. It was interesting."

She also thinks that more machines should be added here, in a more comfortable and close location. Perhaps at the Kirkwood mall, which, she mentions, used to have a machine, but no longer does. Yet she still loves the game enough to keep going daily.

Some even go as far as inventing the game even further, taking it one step further, pulling off wicked tricks and stunts as they pull of and bust their moves to the game all at once. It adds even a more competitive and beautiful edge to the game, like it's its own art. One that isn't going to be lost soon, it seems, as people further reinvent themselves playing it.

"I have improved extremely since I first began," says Wilz. "I used to have trouble on so many songs, but now I can do them. I even do tricks while I do it."

Wilz, who's been playing the game a year, says it's most important to keep up with the beat of the song than with the arrows, because that's what gives concentration and a basis and structure to the game. From there, he says, it grows. You get better and better at it, more addicted.

Senior Nathan Wrangler, on the other hand, says that keeping track with the arrows itself is more important than meshing with a song. Wrangler himself has only played the game for three months.

"Actually a friend of mine got me into it; Mack also was part of it. I wouldn't really say I'm a DDR freak, but it's easier than it looks," Wrangler said. "The main thing is don't quit right away. Just keep going for perfect combos."

Wrangler himself was first discouraged from the game when he saw everyone else easily passing the dances he had trouble doing. That's why he thinks that sticking with it is a main thing for a beginner to do.

The game is even so widely popular that there's even a sort of rip-off web game of it at the address of www.flashflashrevolution.com where you can play a keyboard-based game of it, using the arrow keys in the same fashion as the pad.

This is some crappily done reviews:

Chrono Trigger is a rather old game by most standards, yet it's a real gem. The game follows the story of a boy named Chrono. At the beginning of the game you are led to a fair, and there you meet your friend, [find name and put here, I can't remember it right now], who is an inventor. You find her using a new gadget she has created that teleports someone from one point of the machine to the other. But as Merle, another main character in the game, tries the machine, it is faltered due to the necklace that she is wearing, which opens a rift in time that sucks Merle in.

From there on, the game goes through its absolutely beautifully illustrated plot. It was originally released for the SNES, but can be found for the Playstation in the Final Fantasy compilation Final Fantasy Chronicles. Although the game has horrible load times in comparison with its cartridge inferior, it's still worth the price for this game. It's possibly one of the best Role Playing Games every created. It's very highly recommended.

Grade: A+.

Xenosaga comes off from Xenogears' arc. Xenogears was originally released, and is still only released, for the Playstation; it's a cultist favorite Role Playing Game.

Xenosaga itself is an interestingly cinematic blend of long, characterizing FMVs mixed in with mostly standard RPG play. This formula works well though, often keeping the player gripped to the game.

The game itself focuses on Zonars, beginning with a showing of an unearthing of one. From there you are introduced to characters upon a ship, and the plot goes onward. It's not that best RPG ever made, nor is it the worst. With a nice, professionally-told story, and 40+ hours of gameplay, it's worth the $30 price tag it now has. This being only the first in a line of three interlinked sagas of the game at large, it's a nice ride, and leaves you expecting even more from the next saga, which is going to be released soon this fall.

Grade: B.

Parasite Eve is a very captivating RPG-Adventure hybrid that mixes these two things well. Released by RPG Gods Square sometime around 1998, it's a surprisingly underrated masterpiece.

It follows the story of New York City cop Aya Brea as she goes to Carneige Hall with her date to attend an opera. There, budding actress Melissa Pearce, singing, brings the entire hall to flames instantly. An FMV, quite memorable to say the least, plays and shows this chaos in vivid ecstasy.

The RPG itself was named by Square to be a "cinematic RPG." It does not fail from this, however, but is much more than just that.

After actress Melissa Pearce brings the hall to flames, Aya is one of the only surviving, and approaches her. From then on your are introduced to the basic mechanics of the game as you battle her. In the game, you have "mitochondrial" powers. Mitochondria themselves are organelles in cells which supply the body with PTP, or energy. This, later, you find, is what caused the entire hall to burn to flames: the harnessing of the powers of mitochondria. These mitochondrial powers serve as magic from standard RPGs, and after being drained in battle, unlike Magic Points, they regenerate. As time goes on and you level Aya up, you get more and more abilities and a bigger gauge for this.

As for how the game is played during battle: you are allowed free moving around to a certain extent about the screen, and Aya uses guns to damage her enemies. The guns themselves also have more depth, allowing tweaking and the destruction of older, inferior guns to add their abilities onto newer ones. This system, as well as the PE powers, Vests (being the same drill as weapons), and the free-form gameplay all give this game a very wonderful, fresh, fleshy feel to it that just works so flawlessly. Not to also mention that the game's plot is just brilliant, and the FMVs themselves, even as outdated as they appear, are still quite eye-catching and interesting.

One of my favorite RPGs of all time. And I've played through it so many times...and it never gets old. Ever.

Grade: A+.


And that is all. Thank you for your time.
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Paper I wrote last night.

Mood: Tired
Music: None

Well, we had to take these paragraphs, from the Fredrick Douglass Slave Narrative:

"If at any one time of my life, more than another, I was made to drink the bitterest dregs of slavery, that time was during the first six months of my stay with Mr. Covey. We were worked all weathers. It was never too hot or too cold; it could never rain, blow, snow, or hail too hard for us to work in the field. Work, work, work, was scarcely more the order of the day than the night. The longest days were too short for him, and the shortest nights were too long for him. I was somewhat unmanageable when I first went there; but a few months of his discipline tamed me. Mr. Covey succeeded in breaking me. I was broken in body, soul and spirit. My natural elasticity was crushed; my intellect languished; the disposition to read departed; the cheerful spark that lingered about my eye died; the dark night of slavery closed in upon me; and behold a man transformed into a brute!

Sunday was my only leisure time. I spent this in a sort of beast-like stupor, between sleep and wake, under some large tree. At times, I would rise up, a flash of energetic freedom would dart through my soul, accompanied with a faint beam of hope, flickered for a moment, and then vanished. I sank down again, mourning over my wretched condition. I was sometimes prompted to take my life, and that of Covey, but was prevented by a combination of hope and fear. My sufferings on this plantation seem now like a dream rather than a stern reality.

Our house stood within a few rods of the Chesapeake bay, whose broad bosom was ever white with sails from every quarter of the habitable globe. Those beautiful vessels, robed in purest white, so delightful to the eye of freemen, were to me so many shrouded ghosts, to terrify and torment me with thoughts of my wretched condition. I have often, in the deep stillness of a summer's Sabbath, stood all alone upon the banks of that noble bay, and traced, with saddened heart and tearful eye, the countless number of sails moving off to the mighty ocean. The sight of these always affected me powerfully. My thoughts would compel utterance; and there, with no audience but the Almighty, I would pour out my soul's complaint in my rude way, with an apostrophe to the moving multitude of ships:

"You are loosed from your moorings, and free; I am fast in my chains, and am a slave! You move merrily before the gentle gale, and I sadly before the bloody whip! You are freedom's swift-winged angels, that fly around the world; I am confined in bands of iron! O, that I were free! O, that I were on one of your gallant decks, and under your protecting wing! Alas! betwixt me <171 ANGUISH BEYOND DESCRIPTION>and you the turbid waters roll. Go on, go on. O that I could also go! Could I but swim! If I could fly! O, why was I born a man, of whom to make a brute! The glad ship is gone; she hides in the dim distance. I am left in the hottest hell of unending slavery. O God, save me! God, deliver me! Let me be free! Is there any God? Why am I a slave? I will run away. I will not stand it. Get caught, or get clear, I'll try it. I had as well die with ague as with fever. I have only one life to lose. I had as well be killed running as die standing. Only think of it; one hundred miles straight north, and I am free! Try it? Yes! God helping me, I will. It cannot be that I shall live and die a slave. I will take to the water. This very bay shall yet bear me into freedom. The steamboats steered in a north-east coast from North Point. I will do the same; and when I get to the head of the bay, I will turn my canoe adrift, and walk straight through Delaware into Pennsylvania. When I get there, I shall not be required to have a pass; I will travel without being disturbed. Let but the first opportunity offer, and come what will, I am off. Meanwhile, I will try to bear up under the yoke. I am not the only slave in the world. Why should I fret? I can bear as much as any of them. Besides, I am but a boy, and all boys are bound to some one. It may be that my misery in slavery will only increase my happiness when I get free. There is a better day coming."

I shall never be able to narrate the mental experience through which it was my lot to pass during my stay at Covey's. I was completely wrecked, changed and bewildered; goaded almost to madness at one time, and at another reconciling myself to my wretched condition. Everything in the way of kindness, which I had experienced at Baltimore; all my former hopes and aspirations for usefulness in the world, and the happy moments spent in the exercises of religion, contrasted with my then present lot, but increased my anguish. "

And then write what and why the third paragraph (the one where he quotes himself speaking) is different, and what stylistic natures it uses. So here is my paper:

The stylistic natures of Douglass' narration of him sitting, staring out at water, ships sailing about, him speaking but to himself as well as the Almighty, is something of beauty in its own. Being about three paragraphs long, the first two paragraphs merely convey some feeling of Douglass's, while the third grabs hold of the roots of the first two, growing an illegitimate yet haply dreaming thing which roots out something of a black rose. The third paragraph, in comparison to the first two, is quite different in rhetoric, style, diction, and word choice. By this, it shall be shown how.

The first two paragraphs merely set the scene, allowing grace and style in the third paragraph. They allow a transition to amount in a smooth, borderline, seamless fashion. These two paragraph form the muscle of the passage as a whole, pushing their mighty hands in coercion, rooting deep roots in the reader's head, and catching them into the start as it is pushed to an end. They, it could be said, do the labor of the birth, pushing, heaving, shoving; closing in the reader, they blend the paragraphs all as a whole, and form what could never be without that of the uprooting and second conception of the third paragraph.

"My thoughts would...with an apostrophe to the moving multitude of ships:--," is the last sentence of these two paragraphs. This sentence itself sums the meaning of the two paragraphs as a whole: anchors which weight down and transition; anchors which, by their weights, pulley themselves to a stop, and rest the rest of the ship—the third paragraph—into its own lullaby and eventual sleep. Through this, the impact of third paragraph is given a steel knuckle to its otherwise skeletal hand, which, alone, would amount to nothing but a dull thud to a reader's care. Given this, the third paragraph comes unaware to the reader, and siphons them in.

It starts right off strong and hard with its parallelisms, jumping back and forth between apostrophes to the ship, telling the ships of their states, then using that as a comparison to Douglass's own conditions. "You are loosed from your moorings, and are free," Douglass first begins, using an effective syntax which is right to the point, sparing no time to belabor. Then he continues with, "I am fast in my chains, and am a slave!" By doing this, he causes a double punch to hit the reader, and the reader to interpret these two parallelisms and juxtapositions as a comparison which in the reader's mind should amount to one thing as a whole: how Douglass feels, and how it unfair, how he sees it as something unfair. By personifying the ships, he gives them an entire new feel, one that clamps onto the reader, almost an allusion to freedom, like some rotten sweet fruit which Douglass yearns to have and taste and congest.

Douglass keeps at this, placing in an effective syntax that flows nicely, with nice puddles and muddying imagery by the use of metaphors. Then, beginning the thirty-eighth line, he begins a sub transition within the paragraph, eating into the reader further. "O that I were free!" he says, concise as ever, using the blatant truth to shower his feelings on the reader. "O, that I were on one of your gallant decks, and under you protecting wing!" he continues, using the ships yet again as an allusion to his feelings, further placing the reader in his psyche, forcing them to understand.
Going on, Douglass taints his words in God, showing his desperation by his use of exclamation points and the rapidness at which his words dance around as if they are scrambling everywhere in a beautiful mess. By these quick use of small, simple sentences in his speech, he quickens the pace, covering the momental arc in something that goes beyond just the textual and verbal readings of the passage; he, more or less, makes this paragraph more than it is by these eloquent uses of style. He succeeds in even grasping the reader further, with the mention of God, and his desperate pleas.

From here, lines forty-five and on, the use of I begins to cover the text like a lingering weed, further showing the desperation in its usage. He stops comparing his chains of slavery to the freedom of the ships, and begins to fight with himself in a verbal battle, which must be much, or near like, that that the reader feels as well. "Why am I slave," he asks, then uses this to grow on, going into, "I will run away." From this, he begins to reason things out to himself, and shows the reader what they are already coming to—the realization that freedom is an obtainable goal, and that, even as hard as it would be to have for a slave, is a reality. The tone of the paragraph all the rest of the way now turns to choking desperation until some type of decision is reached.

Going on, the paragraph begins to numb the reader, like an overload of thoughts and notions causing a scatter and rush. It further shows the great use of this endless apostrophe's syntax, how Douglass grasps hold of the reader so desperately, like some side-glanced thing, and just covers them in aphorisms that go far beyond just showing a point. Getting the reader to care in some case by not just blatantly saying something is a hard thing to do—and Douglass accomplishes this well, in some way, with this one paragraph.

"Yes! God helping me, I will," Douglass decides as he finally starts bleeding into his decision. From this line, fifty-one and on, he begins saying that he will begin to look for freedom, that he will do it, no matter the consequences. The use of I as a weed commercializes in this part of the paragraph, toning and tainting everything with desperate want and need; giving everything that Douglass says his own need, and the means that he will do it. The rhetoric of this part—and the earlier parts—of this paragraph are true genius. Rather than arguing with the reader, he rather shoves it into his own bitter fight, forcing the reader to not feel targeted, but rather forced to sit in Douglass's true feelings, and understand how he feels and why he has his motives. This placing of himself into the reader accomplishes more than any other way could have. It allows him to reason out things to himself, and allows the reader to do the same, without the reader or Douglass having to intervene in any way other than Douglass to himself, and the readers to themselves.

"It may be that my misery in slavery will only increase my happiness when I get free," Douglass finally concludes. "There is a better day coming." And then the paragraph ends, leaving the reader and Douglass to think out things, ending in a hysterically dreamy conclusion that "there is a better day coming." He uses this to finally quell all else that the third paragraph has bantered, summing it all up that through all this pain and misery he has felt, he must not be alone, and that one day he must be free, that he will, in hope, see better days. The rhetoric itself brings finality to this—seemingly leaving the reader feeling full with this sense of hope, and finally left with some parting answer to Douglass's battle with himself. This is the rhetorical purpose, and the main difference with this paragraph to the other two as a whole; he uses this third paragraph to eat and feed into the reader, making them see as he sees, feel as he feels, and fight alongside him as he fights with himself. This third paragraph is almost like an unwinding of the anchors the first two placed, finally lifting their coiled weight, he dirties them with his apostrophe, capturing the essence of everything he sought to do with this entire passage.

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Sunday, September 28, 2003

Stupid OB. *kicks*

Mood: Wanting the day to be over.
Music: Opeth-Advent

Stupid OB, for whatever reason, says that my IP is banned. At first it wasn't as bad...and then I just sent James a PM concerning it, but then I had to log off, and now it won't let me do anything on OB but give me the message that my IP is banned. Hm.

Hopefully that problem shall be fixed, who knows.

Otherwise I have not done much today.

I was going to go see a movie with Ryan. Underwold was what we were going to see..then we got there, and decided to give it shot.

I walked up. "One for Underworld."

"Okay. We'll also need to see an ID."

In my head I had addressed this--if they had asked me for my ID, then I would say something to the extent of, "It's rated R? I didn't know that!"

And so I did that. "It's rated R? Oh."

Then I walked over to Ryan, he snickered at me. At least I had the guts to try lol.

To me ratings systems or an annoying thing more than a good thing. Really. The Matrix: Reloaded was rated R. For what? There wasn't anything that you couldn't have found on TV. And the sex scene in it? That wasn't even a sex scene..all you saw was a glimpse of Neo's "cheeks." I can see PG for that maybe...but R? Like you don't see it on TV.

If you ask me it should be a parent's concern. If they actually care what their kids see, then it should be their problem, not some arbitrary ratings system to do it for them.

Well, at least I will be seventeen this October 12th--which isn't too far away. Still, it annoys me. I want to see this movie...vampires and werewolves and crap interest me, plus it has Matrix-style stuff. Ah well.

So we ended up going to another of my somewhat-friend's houses--Adam Frank's. There we didn't do much..watched him play Red Faction II, then finally left off to go get some "Krispy Kreme" doughnuts.

They didn't have the ones--more or less kinds--that Ryan wanted, so he didn't get any, but Adam Frank did.

I have two Adam friends--there's Adam Anderson, he's red-headed, then Adam Frank. I might as well clear that up lol.

Adam Frank kindly bought a dozen doughnuts, then gave each of use one. Which was nice.

Then we went off to K-mart. Why. I'm sure you're asking. We went because that's the only place around here that has Jones.

What is Jones, you ask? Well, it is one of the most cool things ever created.

It's this name of this Soft Drink company that is in Canada which has all these different types of flavors. And the labels on each bottle is never the same--it always has a different picture.

People send in pictures and people then put them on labels. It's interesting to see all the pictures--not to mention the pop is good.

So I bought one of those, then it was off back on the hunt for Krispy Kreme doughnuts for Ryan. We went off to Econo Food, and they even had less there--and not the kind Ryan wanted. Then we went off to Mini Mart, which is one of the crappiest Marts I've ever heard of. The doughnuts were even more expensive there, lol. And they didn't have any of the kind Ryan wanted. So he left.

Then it was back to Frank's, and we played some Super Smash Brothers Melee. It was okay...I've played the game too much lol. I didn't even play that long...instead, I just sat there and read this random Game Informer magazine that was sitting there.

Soon we left. But Adam (Anderson) gave me an Opeth CD, burned copy, that he'd borrowed to Greg, Adam's (Frank) brother. So I took that, and just ripped it, and I'm currently listening to it.

Really instrumental stuff--and not like Interpol exactly either. The signer's voice is really low, and gloomy-ish, like some hard rocker's voice should sound...yet all at once it's somewhat mellow because of the amount of instrumentals. And these songs are long that I have, too. Each is at least ten minutes--one is twenty. I like that though. It's more filling. They're definitely decent from what I am listening to so far.
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Saturday, September 27, 2003

Just this test.

Mood: Quiet
Music:: Elton John-Funeral for a Friend/ Love Lies Bleeding

Disorder	Rating
Paranoid:	Moderate
Schizoid:	Moderate
Schizotypal:	Moderate
Antisocial:	Moderate
Borderline:	Moderate
Histrionic:	High
Narcissistic:	High
Avoidant:	High
Dependent:	Low
Obsessive-Compulsive:	High
-- Personality Disorder Test - Take It! --

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Why does he have to do this?

Mood: Annoyed
Music: A Perfect Circle-The Package

I just come back from my walk, and sit down, eat a cookie.

"Don't start eating a whole bunch of cookies," my Dad starts. I tell him I'm not, and that I'm going to have some Ramen Noodles or something.

I haven't eaten anything all day..wasn't hungry, plus I was busy. So then that's why I had to decided to finally eat something.

"No, you're not eating anything," he starts again. "I went to the store and bought Pork Chops and stuffing and noodles for dinner. You're eating that. We're eating at 6:30."

I don't like Pork Chops. I loved them as a kid for whatever reason, but I hate them now. And I just don't feel like eating them. SO then I continued to argue with him, and then I was, "I don't see the big fucking deal. It's none of your concern what I eat. I haven't eaten anything all day."

"That's your fault," he said.

I wasn't hungry. I didn't want to eat, thus. Usually, if people aren't hungry, then they don't eat. And when they are, they do.

I finally just said screw it, then ran down here to my room. Then, as I'm running down, he yells the thing I predicted. "You can eat whatever you want."

Then why make such a big deal about it? He does this everytime in so many other situations...he does the same thing to my mom. He sits here and bitches at you for not doing this, or you can't do this, and when you finally give him the cold shoulder and leave, he suddenly, like some fucking act of god, decides to let you do what you want.

Erg. It's so annoying.

Oh well. He's forcing me to go buy pop. Off I go.
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Angel, come to me.

Mood: Decent
Music: Led Zeppelin-Heartbreaker [live]

Well, cleaned the house, then I sat straight down and did from chapters 1 to 2 in notes for Geometry. We have test on GEOMETRIC PROOFS sometime next week..so I decided I might as well stop being such a lazy, useless idiot and get some notes down that I should've had in the first place. Mm.

Ended up being about 10 pages. Took almost an hour.

Last night I also did some of my homework...this really long history assignment where we had to read this entire chapter, fill out a worksheet, and also take notes. That took 2 HOURS. Way too long...but at least that is out of the way as well.

I still have to write a 2-page AP English paper, do my Latin, and do my actual Math Assignment.

I also need to get the hell out and do something with some of my friends...it has been like two weeks since I've done ANYTHING but go to school, come home, relax, do homework, then sleep or write poems if time prevailed. Stupid school.

Our newspaper comes out OCt. 2, yay. That is also the day I have to go get a cavity filled..since I found that out, I have been brushing my teeth crazily mostly. It's started to subside now, but I still do at least twice a day unless I get lazy.

I was going to go to Ryan's last night, but I had to watch my brother, so I couldn't leave. But we got to get an ordered pizza, so that was good. I had also had pizza for lunch that day too, lol. So I ate 4 pieces of that domino's pizza, and one at lunch. Insane. It's cool how I can eat so much yet not gain anything, heh.

That is about all that is up. I think I'm going to go take a nice, steamy, war shower, then go for a nice walk, then go to Ryans. Then come home, do some more homework, then sleep.
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Friday, September 26, 2003

I am still trying to think of this word. Hm.

Mood: Feel great now...mostly from this conversation. Otherwise, thoughtful.
Music: System of a Down-X

An absolutely wonderful chat with Jenna, and I mean that in all respects:

Dilapoid: It is Ange de Cramoisi.
Ange de Cramoisi: mhm



Dilapoid: "Mhm"?
Dilapoid: Well, hello.
Ange de Cramoisi: Heh, hey :-)


Dilapoid: Here at first I thought you were in a bad mood because of the "Mhm" thing. lol.
Ange de Cramoisi: Nah, not a bad mood ^_^ I'm just a bit depressed in the sort of way that it's temporary until I get this fucking photo story done :O
Ange de Cramoisi: I'm in a good mood otherwise ...does that make sense?
Dilapoid: Ah.
Dilapoid: Makes sense to me.
Ange de Cramoisi: Good :D
Dilapoid: Hah, no one else has posted in the Evolution thread.
Ange de Cramoisi: I don't think I have even looked at that thread yet
Dilapoid: It's the only thread that I've really posted in as of recently.
Dilapoid: I've posted 7 times it says.
Dilapoid: Yay.
Ange de Cramoisi: Some people are scared of intelligent topics, I suppose
Dilapoid: Heh. Same here.
Ange de Cramoisi: There are even some that I stear (steer?) clear of
Dilapoid: That topic you created recently I haven't posted in there obviously heh.
Dilapoid: Steer. :-)
Ange de Cramoisi: Yeah, not too many people did
Ange de Cramoisi: That always seems to happen with my topics :P
Ange de Cramoisi: But that's ok, it's really only because I'm curious about what other people have to say
Ange de Cramoisi: as long as i get to hear some opinions, I'm happy :-)
Dilapoid: If I even cared or knew enough to say something intelligent, I would've lol. Otherwise I'd just be blasphemizing.
Ange de Cramoisi: (and thanks on the steer thing...my grammar/spelling is declining rapidly)
Ange de Cramoisi: lol
Dilapoid: (No problem. If you need to expand it, start using the word amatory. It means sexual love. Great word since no one would know what it means if you tell them...unless they've heard it before.)
Ange de Cramoisi: It's ok, we all know that topics such as "Who Do You Want To Be" will always be king
Dilapoid: I hate them lol.
Ange de Cramoisi: AMATORY
Ange de Cramoisi: how fun
Dilapoid: Comes from the latin verb amat, to love.
Dilapoid: People are sad in that "Who would you be" topic as well.
Dilapoid: lol.
Dilapoid: This one person was all, "No one chose me. Wah."
Dilapoid: So then I was all sarcastic, and said fine, I'd be him if I could.
Dilapoid: Obviously no one can catch sarcasm these days lol.
Ange de Cramoisi: There's only a few of us who can ;-)
Dilapoid: Yes, and these select few hold the entire power of the human race in their hands.
Dilapoid: *gape gasp gape*
Dilapoid: ...Nep.
Ange de Cramoisi: lol
Ange de Cramoisi: For some reason...I find your cynicism refreshing. Mitch is funny ^_^
Dilapoid: Ah, just to inform you, I feel quite irate toward Macs.
Dilapoid: (Irate means angry.)
Dilapoid: They are the worst computers ever lol.
Ange de Cramoisi: Thanks, I knew that one ;-)
Ange de Cramoisi: But i love them
Ange de Cramoisi: !!!!!!!
Dilapoid: They are good for the stuff you do, given.
Dilapoid: But they suck all else elsewise.
Ange de Cramoisi: I DON"T WANT 2 B METCH BCAUSE HE HATES MACERNTOSHES
Ange de Cramoisi: BCUZ*!!!
Dilapoid: They deserve to be burned in the clutches of some piromaniac. And yes, pun is intended.
Dilapoid: lol
Dilapoid: Macerntoshes.
Dilapoid: lol
Ange de Cramoisi: Hee ^___^
Dilapoid: Macintosh is actually an apple. When did it become tradmarked?
Dilapoid: Stupid companies...or something.
Dilapoid: *tries to find another reason to hate macs*
Dilapoid: Oh wait, I already hate them enough.
Ange de Cramoisi: I used to hate them...that was before OS X
Ange de Cramoisi: OS X is pretty
Dilapoid: Yeah.
Ange de Cramoisi: as opposed to that old, ugly, grey style O_O
Dilapoid: But you see...in our journalism room, we do not have version X.
Dilapoid: We have the crappy, stupid whored old version.
Ange de Cramoisi: oh, that's very unfortunate
Ange de Cramoisi: :-(
Ange de Cramoisi: stupid whored
Dilapoid: And thus, it FREEZES all the time, and it LAGS LIKE HELL, and it just ANNOYS ME TO NO END.
Dilapoid: I think I made that clear. Yay.
Dilapoid: XP is still more stable than X.
Dilapoid: And better.
Ange de Cramoisi: what?! no...not on my computer at least
Dilapoid: But X, is, I will admit,is purty.
Ange de Cramoisi: I've never had osx crash on me ever
Dilapoid: I didn't say it's horrible lol.
Dilapoid: I just perfer PC over anything.
Ange de Cramoisi: but maybe that's just because my PC is getting up there in years
Ange de Cramoisi: yeah, I understand :-)
Ange de Cramoisi: my dad is the same way
Ange de Cramoisi: even I was the same way until I started using the G4 towers that the school has
Ange de Cramoisi: those are AWESOME and fast and lovely
Ange de Cramoisi: took a liking towards macs ^_^
Dilapoid: They are amatory, right? Heh.
Ange de Cramoisi: /end tangent
Ange de Cramoisi: sure they are!
Dilapoid: Amatory is one of my favorite words ever now.
Ange de Cramoisi: It's a good word, I like its meaning
Dilapoid: Yes.
Dilapoid: That's what makes it so worthy.
Dilapoid: Eschew is a cool word too. Means escape.
Ange de Cramoisi: Worthy of Mitch's useage
Ange de Cramoisi: Eschew?
Dilapoid: Eschew. Just...chewy.
Dilapoid: Yes.
Dilapoid: Chewy. Like jerky.
Dilapoid: Salty and tasty like jerky.
Dilapoid: Indeed.
Ange de Cramoisi: I...guess?
Ange de Cramoisi: lol
Dilapoid: Don't ask me. lol.
Ange de Cramoisi: Random line of thought.
Ange de Cramoisi: :-)
Dilapoid: Jerky just sounds good right now or something. Who knows.
Dilapoid: It must be PEPPERED though.
Dilapoid: Otherwise it is not jerky in my book.
Dilapoid: I like hot things. ^_^
Dilapoid: Hot things such as yourself included.
Ange de Cramoisi: heh. Do you ever stop and try to retrace your thought process back to the original thought?
Dilapoid: :p
Ange de Cramoisi: OOh, hot things with flava'
Ange de Cramoisi: I LOVE hot things, but for some reason my tongue doesn't
Ange de Cramoisi: ..appreciate them*
Dilapoid: Not in this circumstance, I wouldn't trace it back lol.
Dilapoid: Yeah.
Dilapoid: And sour things.
Ange de Cramoisi: ikc.
Ange de Cramoisi: ick* mayve
Ange de Cramoisi: dammit V_V
Dilapoid: It's okay lol.
Dilapoid: I ate so many sour skittles when I get a whole package that my throat feels sore the next day.
Ange de Cramoisi: YUCK!
Dilapoid: *eat
Dilapoid: lol
Ange de Cramoisi: Those are so gross
Dilapoid: I love them.
Ange de Cramoisi: and they totally destroy your tongue for a day
Ange de Cramoisi: or more
Dilapoid: Tastless but tastes good.
Dilapoid: Or something.
Dilapoid: Okay, no more lol.
Dilapoid: Tabasco sauce should be a god.
Dilapoid: I love that stuff as well.
Ange de Cramoisi: I don't experiment with sauces/spices too much
Ange de Cramoisi: I put Tapatio in my bean dip...but that's about it =\
Dilapoid: Heh.
Dilapoid: It's fine. That's just Jenna.
Dilapoid: I also LOVE ketchup.
Ange de Cramoisi: Oh, me too ^____^
Ange de Cramoisi: And i remember the days where it was spelled Catsup
Dilapoid: When I have a hamburger, I smother the whole thing in ketchup, usually both sides of the bun, then make a big puddle of it on my plate, and as I eat it dip it into the ketchup as well.
Dilapoid: Mm.
Ange de Cramoisi: That's almost obsessive love...
Ange de Cramoisi: Amatory...?
Dilapoid: It's also almost as obsessive as love.
Dilapoid: Heh.
Dilapoid: Amatory. Yes@
Dilapoid: !
Ange de Cramoisi: Oh, I'm good ;-)
Dilapoid: Yes.
Ange de Cramoisi: ..well...thanks to you :P
Dilapoid: Heh.
Ange de Cramoisi: brb...I need to write my professor an email
Dilapoid: All right.
Ange de Cramoisi: Ok, I am done
Dilapoid: Okay.
Ange de Cramoisi: This little powerbook gets so HOT
Ange de Cramoisi: my hand is burning
Dilapoid: Mm. That sucks lol.
Dilapoid: HEY--another reason to hate macs.
Dilapoid: Yay.
Ange de Cramoisi: Yeah...I need to get a real mouse :P
Ange de Cramoisi: Oh shush
Dilapoid: I'm teasing.
Dilapoid: It's just the way I am lol.
Ange de Cramoisi: Adult Toys, you say?
Ange de Cramoisi: (haha, I know :P)
Dilapoid: No, amatory toys.
Dilapoid: And a blow-up doll for me.
Dilapoid: And you can have the cuffs if you want. Or something. -0O.
Ange de Cramoisi: Cool...I'm totally going to this site
Dilapoid: Mm? Which?
Ange de Cramoisi: It came to me in an email
Dilapoid: I see.
Ange de Cramoisi: this one...mm
Ange de Cramoisi: Heheh...adult toys really amuse me
Dilapoid: I see.
Ange de Cramoisi: Amatoric Toys?
Dilapoid: Yes, amusal is fun.
Dilapoid: Amatoric lol.
Ange de Cramoisi: Can I make up suffixes?
Dilapoid: I just love making up words.
Dilapoid: It's your writing, your mind. Of course.
Dilapoid: I love doing it as well.
Ange de Cramoisi: Ok, yes....I make up words like elsewhat and elsewho
Ange de Cramoisi: They SOUND like they could work
Ange de Cramoisi: even though they're not real
Dilapoid: I use them when I feel like it too. It's fun and refreshing.
Ange de Cramoisi: Oh, definteily
Ange de Cramoisi: definitely*
Dilapoid: Well, who's to say words themselves mean anything but the ones who make it that way in their minds?
Dilapoid: Exactly. Words themselves...are like this. They mean something, yes. But not in...nature.
Dilapoid: Erg. I'm having trouble explaining.
Ange de Cramoisi: I think I understand
Dilapoid: Words don't mean anything unless you let them.
Dilapoid: All they are is something created by us as humans..
Dilapoid: But I think they are more than that, sure.
Dilapoid: But I can't go away from that truth.
Dilapoid: So basically, making up your own words is the same as using words that are in the dictionary or whatever.
Dilapoid: There. I think that's clear.
Ange de Cramoisi: Yes, yes, I do understand now ^_^
Dilapoid: I just think too much lol.
Ange de Cramoisi: Noooo
Ange de Cramoisi: that's not thinking too much
Ange de Cramoisi: that's thinking outside the box ;-)
Dilapoid: Inside pandora's box, yes. Hehe.
Ange de Cramoisi: heh
Dilapoid: You know...have you ever been walking around in a town, or something...and thought what it would look like without anything built, just as it was naturally?
Dilapoid: It's really hard to think...everything has been this way since you and I were born.
Dilapoid: It's kind of a weird, strange thought.
Dilapoid: Feels somewhat...eh. Can't think of a word.
Ange de Cramoisi: Actually, i've thought something along those lines before. The northern tip of the Baja Penninsula is how I imagine Souther California's coast to have looked like long ago
Dilapoid: Heh, cool.
Dilapoid: It's such a weird thought. Mm.
Ange de Cramoisi: Yeah, i agree.
Dilapoid: I'm still trying to think of a word to describe it.
Dilapoid: Yet it won't come.
Dilapoid: You know, it's like I know what I want to say, and what word I want to use, but I can't think of it.
Dilapoid: Then later, or when I know the word, I'll smack myself for how stupid I was not to think of it lol.
Ange de Cramoisi: Oh, I KNOW!!!
Ange de Cramoisi: And that word just gets lost in your brain?
Dilapoid: Yeah.
Dilapoid: It's like I know what the word is but I don't.
Dilapoid: Like it's a phantom.
Ange de Cramoisi: yes!!!
Ange de Cramoisi: It always annoys me to no end, too. Such a simple word...so hard to reach...
Dilapoid: Yeah.
Dilapoid: It's like this for a lot of things most of the time, not just this lol.
Dilapoid: And sometimes it's even more weird...like the opposite of this.
Dilapoid: It'll be like I've felt some certain moment before, but I don't know how.
Dilapoid: Deja vu, of course.
Dilapoid: But yeah.
Dilapoid: Weird stuff.
Dilapoid: It's like, say, in comparison, the word is on the outside, and I can feel its presence, but it won't compute with anything else...and I usually come to the conclusion it was probably from a dream.
Dilapoid: If that even makes sense.
Ange de Cramoisi: I'm trying to understand it...
Dilapoid: I'm comparing how I can't find words to how I sometimes feel deja vu.
Dilapoid: And saying that it feels like, in comparison, instead of the word being in my head and feeling like it's there, like it's outside of me and it won't compute, or come into meaning, in my head.
Ange de Cramoisi: Ahh, ok
Dilapoid: I'm having trouble understanding myself. I just love odd comparisons though.
Dilapoid: I am getting closer to finding this word...erg.
Dilapoid: If I could remember what it started with, that usuall just makes it come right away.
Dilapoid: I'll I've thought of so far is violated. That's not close enough.
Dilapoid: It's not what I want and feel from thinking that about some city lol.
Dilapoid: Ah well lol.
Dilapoid: It'll come to me sometime later when I don't need it.
Ange de Cramoisi: Ack, sorry, delivery man liked to talk
Dilapoid: It's okay, of course.
Ange de Cramoisi: He was all jabbery
Ange de Cramoisi: very friendly delivery man
Dilapoid: Probably was attracted to you lol.
Dilapoid: It seems like that with most people if they talk to you a lot, I guess.
Dilapoid: *shrug*
Dilapoid: Or was it a girl?
Ange de Cramoisi: lol, nah, it was like a 40 year old guy
Dilapoid: No...you say man lol.
Ange de Cramoisi: he was just all curious about why I was home at this time fo the day
Dilapoid: *said
Dilapoid: *said
Dilapoid: Ah.
Ange de Cramoisi: and I was like, 'Well....I'm a STUDENT"
Dilapoid: lol
Dilapoid: When stupid people ask stupid questions II: the death of deliveryman.
Ange de Cramoisi: ahah
Dilapoid: I have such a dry sense of humor.
Ange de Cramoisi: But it's so great :P
Dilapoid: Too bad dry isn't as good as lubricated in most cases, though. :p
Ange de Cramoisi: Well THAT I can agree wtih...
Dilapoid: Heh.
Ange de Cramoisi: agh... i need to shut down my computer for a bit
Ange de Cramoisi: I need to see if this new part works before my parents get here =\
Dilapoid: Ah.
Dilapoid: Okay.
Ange de Cramoisi: I may be back, we'll see ^_^
Dilapoid: It was great talking.
Dilapoid: Of course.
Ange de Cramoisi: If I'm not, yes, it was defintiely great talking to you :D
Dilapoid: Heh.
Dilapoid: *posts this in My Otaku*
Dilapoid: Whee.
Ange de Cramoisi: ^___^
Ange de Cramoisi: Talk to you later!
Dilapoid: Yes, hopefully.
Ange de Cramoisi: Ciao :-)
Dilapoid: Have a good time with the ol parents.
Ange de Cramoisi signed off at 5:32:42 PM.
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Just for Heavens Cloud's amusement.

Mood: Okay.
Music: None, for once.

It is time for me to post the word of the day!!!!!!!!!!!


Yay. That's right....a WORD OF THE DAY. Hahahah. Jump for joy, fido, fetch the stick, eat it and slober it up!












And a drum roll, please.











And a guitar solo, please.














And a cajoling Barney, please.
















And the word is......Booby!

What does it mean? Sexual love. Damn, that's just so..sexy. In a kinky, sprang-out, cool way, of course.

Yes. Ubi on the booby, Mr. Gravy Groovy.
Comments (2) | Permalink

Thursday, September 25, 2003

The word of the day.

Mood: Best I've been all week.
Music: Pulse Ultra-Build Your Cages

It is time for me to post the word of the day!!!!!!!!!!!


Yay. That's right....a WORD OF THE DAY. Hahahah. Jump for joy, fido, fetch the stick, eat it and slober it up!












And a drum roll, please.











And a guitar solo, please.














And a cajoling Barney, please.






And the word is.....derived from the Latin word Amat, which is a verb meaning to love.

In spanish, that's amor, also derived from Latin..









And the word is......Amatory

What does it mean? Sexual love. Damn, that's just so..sexy. In a kinky, sprang-out, cool way, of course.

I love this word because no one that hasn't seen it will be able to see at all what it is...so that just makes it so much fun.
Comments (4) | Permalink