Sometimes I really have to be reminded how lucky I am. I command an excellent grasp of the English language, decent Spanish and Mandarin, and pygmy Japanese. I love to read and play video games, both of which are things I'm good at. I definitely play Go* pretty well, considering I've only been playing for a little over one year. I play flute and piano, not as beautifully as I once did, but probably better than most when I'm up to practice. I sing soprano well enough to score a 39 out of 40 points in judge competition. And, apparently, my hair is to die for.
So I'm really, really glad I'm not this chick.
http://www.fanfiction.net/u/999831/XXXbloodyrists666XXX
Living proof that idiots are living among us, Tara Gilesbie writes bad fanfiction in a desperate attempt to increase her self-esteem. Not only is the "story" bad, the spelling is atrocious! The grammar is a travesty! And Tara herself has major issues. Check these out-
http://www.fanfiction.net/u/1414686/TwilaBeautifulPsycoTopazCullen
http://www.fanfiction.net/u/1043410/xxxbloodykisses666xxx
Two additional profiles, but, if you'll notice, they all feature the same slang, same spelling and grammar errors, and same formatting. For instance, the
XXXXXX666XXXXXX
pops up repeatedly between sections. Also, all three authors claim to hate the same things (posers, preps, pink, Avril Lavigne) and listen to the same music (Good Charlotte, Evanesence, MCR, Avril Lavigne). There are shameless plugs for each author on each profile. Each author, at the beginning of each chapter, has an author's note denouncing all the "preps" who give her bad reviews.
Totally the same person.
I feel lucky, because I've come to terms with the fact that some people will hate me, the things I love, and my ideas. I don't have to create alternate selves in an attempt to escape that. I don't have to write a fantasy world to insert myself into to feel good about myself. I have pride in my abilities and believe it's justified.
Oh, and I know how to spell.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Monday, May 26, 2008
Redefine My World
Hoo, boy. So much has happened since I've last blogged. Let's go down the list-
I thought my nephew was dead. I got a call the Tuesday after Easter from my brother, who said that his ill-begotten son had died early in the morning. So, now, I find out that the mother LIED about miscarrying. My niece was born Wednesday, May 14th. Her name is Accadia Lynn. She weighs 7 pounds, some ounces, has a head full of darkish hair and very blue eyes. And I am going to beat her lying slut of a mother into a vegetable state.
My brother graduated. Despite how close he came to not making it, he has succeeded with flying colors. I was so very proud of him that I decorated his car to show my happiness. Then we threw water balloons at each other. It was kewl.
Tornadoes are NOT impossible at 7,000 feet above sea level. I know this, because we had two (count 'em!) on Herr Doktor's birthday. We spent our respective Thursdays huddled in basements and bathrooms, texting each other and thinking, "Now, how the HELL did this happen?"
That is, in fact, a fantastic question. A tornado requires both warm, moist air and cool, dry air. When an air stream hits a mountain range, it is forced upwards. This upward motion causes moisture to condense and fall to earth, in addition to a large loss of heat. Thus, the mountains basically prevent the formation of a tornado, because the necessary air currents almost never make it to the top.
So, ya. Between babies coming back to life, my youngest brother pwnzing high school, and tornadoes dropping on Laramie, I would say that several bits of impossible have dropped on my head.
I thought my nephew was dead. I got a call the Tuesday after Easter from my brother, who said that his ill-begotten son had died early in the morning. So, now, I find out that the mother LIED about miscarrying. My niece was born Wednesday, May 14th. Her name is Accadia Lynn. She weighs 7 pounds, some ounces, has a head full of darkish hair and very blue eyes. And I am going to beat her lying slut of a mother into a vegetable state.
My brother graduated. Despite how close he came to not making it, he has succeeded with flying colors. I was so very proud of him that I decorated his car to show my happiness. Then we threw water balloons at each other. It was kewl.
Tornadoes are NOT impossible at 7,000 feet above sea level. I know this, because we had two (count 'em!) on Herr Doktor's birthday. We spent our respective Thursdays huddled in basements and bathrooms, texting each other and thinking, "Now, how the HELL did this happen?"
That is, in fact, a fantastic question. A tornado requires both warm, moist air and cool, dry air. When an air stream hits a mountain range, it is forced upwards. This upward motion causes moisture to condense and fall to earth, in addition to a large loss of heat. Thus, the mountains basically prevent the formation of a tornado, because the necessary air currents almost never make it to the top.
So, ya. Between babies coming back to life, my youngest brother pwnzing high school, and tornadoes dropping on Laramie, I would say that several bits of impossible have dropped on my head.
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