Wednesday, July 27, 2005

What makes a girl's day

Some women actually dread going to their hair stylist. I never actually understood how this could be. After all, I've had nothing but great things to say about my hair stylist. Usually I step out looking positively radiant and better looking.

This time was no different. With the beginning of the semester fast approaching, I got my start of the semester trim. Now, I wasn't going for anything drastic. Just a bit of a cut and style. So, went with my grandmama to the stylist I have here in town.

I had to convince him to actually cut about an inch off my head. He wasn't too willing because he loves my hair. So he worked his magic and about an hour and a half later, I emerge looking glorious. The usual compliments ensued: "You're beautiful." "You have the best hair in your family." "You're hair is glorious." etc etc etc

Who doesn't get this from their stylist? Who couldn't walk out of there feeling divine with compliments like those?

Saturday, July 23, 2005

Stupidity of man

The word will not end because of some massive natural disaster. No, it will be the stupidity of man that will end us all.

Wait.. human stupidity does come naturally. So does that make it a natural disaster too?

Anyway, two things have happened on this island.

First, there was an islandwide gasoline shortage. Why? Because people listen to rumor and panic!

There is/was a trucker strike because of toll hikes and gasoline prices being through the roof. Some genius said that because nothin is getting delivered, there was not going to be any gas. Everyone ran out and filled up their tanks. Every gas station ran out of their supplies. Leaving a lot of angry motorists and a lot of people without gas.

Then, because people are so susceptible to suggestion, someone somewhere at somepoint said that ATMs would stop working after certain hours. Again, people ran out, took out money, flooded the system and more mayhem insued.

Both could have been avoided had people not run out to get their gas and their money. Shortages created by people.

Damn Puerto Ricans.

Thursday, July 21, 2005

D de DEJALO!

I passed!
I passed!
I passed!

I PASSED!

I PASSED I PASSED I PASSED I PASSED!

Okay, enough celebrating. I really shouldn't be celebrating since what I got was a D. But you know, at least it was something and I don't have to repeat the damn class. I can go on and it won't ruin the rest of my class taking. I can't believe I got that. Afterall, I could have sworn I was going to flunk it.

Alright, so maybe I say that I'm going to flunk a lot of classes but this time I was SERIOUSLY close to it. I think the professor was being VERY generous. I don't deserve it. Same as with physics when I got a B. I didn't deserve that one either. But, it just proves professors give whatever grades they feel like giving.

I mean, my Organic Chemistry professor actually told me that I got a B, and that he didn't have to push it. He was going to if I needed it, but I obviously didn't. Which means he was going to ensure me that grade no matter what. So professors give whatever grade they feel they should.

But, none of that matters! I passed! Now I get to rest for a bit before worrying and troubling myself over the adjustments for my schedule for next semester. That's going to be a pain in the arse. I HAVE to go whether I want to or not to the department, bright and early. I need to ensure that I get investigation and Lab for Biochemistry. I better have! Or else, I'll be hella angry.

Sunday, July 17, 2005

Against child abuse

[I received an email today from one of my online friends. This in itself is nothing new, since it seems my inbox gets flooded with all these forwarded messages. But this one really got me sad and even a little tearful. I am not one to forward messages but I am putting it here to spread its message anyway.]

My name is Jamie
I am but three,
My eyes are swollen
I cannot see,

I must be stupid
I must be bad,
What else could have made
My daddy so mad?

I wish I were better
I wish I weren't ugly,
Then maybe my mommy
Would still want to hug me.

I can't speak at all
I can't do a wrong
Or else I'm locked up
All the day long.

When I awake I'm all alone
The house is dark
My folks aren't home.
When my mommy does come
I'll try and be nice,
So maybe I'll get just
One whipping tonight.

Don't make a sound!
I just heard a car
My daddy is back
From Charlie's Bar.

I hear him curse
My name he calls
I press myself
Against the wall.

I try and hide
From his evil eyes
I'm so afraid now
I'm starting to cry.

He finds me weeping
He shouts ugly words,
He says its my fault
That he suffers at work.

He slaps me and hits me
And yells at me more,
I finally get free
And I run for the door.

He's already locked it
And I start to bawl,
He takes me and throws me
Against the hard wall.

I fall to the floor
With my bones nearly broken,
And my day continues
With more bad words spoken...

"I'm sorry!", I scream
But its now much too late
His face has been twisted
Into unimaginable hate.

The hurt and the pain
Again and again
Oh please God, have mercy!
Oh please let it end!

And he finally stops
And heads for the door,
While I lay there motionless
Sprawled on the floor.

My name is Jamie
And I am but three,
Tonight my daddy
Murdered me.

There are thousands of kids out there just like Jamie. And you can help. So because you are effected, do something about it!! All I am asking you to do, is take some time to send this on and acknowledge that this stuff does happen, and that people like her dad do live in our society, and I pray for child abuse to wither out and die, but also pray for the safety of our youth.

As crazy as it might sound, sharing this poem might just indirectly change a life. Hey, you NEVER know.

Friday, July 08, 2005

Death of a child

[If the opinions expressed in the continuing post have offended anyone, then know this: Tough luck! This is my personal blogging site and, like it says in its description, it is the Ranting place for the goddess. ME!]

Anyone who knows me, my characters, and my my rp style will know that I take these sorts of things VERY seriously. Creating new and interesting characters is particularly one hobby I enjoy. What fun would a story be if everyone was the same? What fun would I be having if all my characters in all my stories and groups behaved, thought and appeared the same?

Not much fun at all in my book.

Because of this I search out interesting rps, most often with people I have rp'ed with before and can really work with their styles to get a very good story going. If I really like interacting with that person, it is often that I have more than one character just to keep things going and worthwhile.

What does all of this have to do with the title of my blog? Its fairly simple. I killed a character of mine today. I can't say that I've done this often in my rp career, and that is already 8 years! In fact, I can only recall killing about.... *counts on hands and toes* 4 characters. Two were because I was at a loss for time and needed to work my way out of a story; and two were to further stories which I was working on. Never have I killed a character out of pure frustration at someone I was posting with!

NEVER!

And that's saying something considering how very dramatic, bitchy and tempermental I am.

Who did I kill? An eleven month old boy who, though the group was very extreme since it plays an 'end of our existance as we know it' scenario, would have survived had a player been a bit more efficient in their writing. Is it too hard to write in a post 'Someone fed and changed the child before bundling him up to sleep during a blizzard.'? That was all it required. One simple sentence which in itself describes the series of events that are necessary for human survival.

Yet, it was apparently too much to fit into a long post filled with sarcasm and endless stupid comments thrown back and forth between a group of characters! After the very player went on about INTERACTION being the key to an rp group, they couldn't so much throw in a line I could work with. Believe me, I can churn out entire paragraphs of meaning from one simple sentence. I've done it before, but I refuse to infer into things that someone obviously disregarded in writing.

I know and understand that my rp style is very different from others. I can write entire posts without saying a word; concentrating on the meaning of a character's head turn. Rarely will I write my characters talking a lot amongst themselves, much less writing just that, without describing what they're doing while their speaking and how these things are being said.

I mean, wasn't this what rp was supposed to be about? You create a character, give them a personality, fill their head with thoughts, their heart with emotions, etc, etc, etc. Humans are more than the words they spout out and humanity is a lot more than certain characters getting together. It is about including a wide variety of personas which present a certain realism and believability to a story.

Now, I will admit that it probably was unfair of me to throw this particular character into that particular storyline but I thought it would make for a very interesting situation. I thought I was doing a nice thing putting in a character for someone to gain some response and interation instead of just talking to themselves. At first, posting alone isn't so terrible and often preferred but after a while it just gets tiresome to do and read.

So I thought I'd jump in to interact with someone I've never had the chance to before on the board. I even had a bit of a plan to help them out and bring in other sorts of characters of my creation to get a nice context and situation going. But what I found was someone who seemed completely set in their ways, their style and completely unmoving to interacte with another. Even after they brought in other characters of their creation to supposedly help 'remedy' the situation I had brought upon them.

And because of my inability to apparently read their mind and their inability to pay attention to finer details, a character of mine is dead.

It may be a bit much to be writing all this. Ryan was only something of my creation, not an actual person, and only part of some silly story we were working on in a group. It is true that only the strong survive, but sometimes some need a little help to stay strong. That was all I was trying to convey.

But I have to say that I am actually very much disappointed with the outcome and with the person that left me with no other choice.

So, darling Ryan, may you rest in peace.

Thursday, July 07, 2005

Refusing to Inhale

[This I wrote in my Calculus 2 notebook. I usually write little thoughts and quotes in it at random to keep myself from stabbing my pencil into the main artery at my throat. Things like: 'Am I dead yet? Is this hell?'; 'I have no one to blame but myself.'; and 'How the hell was I supposed to know I was meant to do that on the test?!']

Never would I have believed that it would come to this...

to this moment without logic.
to this moment without clarity.
to this moment without reason.
to this moment where I refuse to breathe.

How have I become this?
How have I reached this?
How will I ever be able to turn around and pretened that all is right?

Will this move to a moment of insinceritity?
Become a moment of great hilarity
When I realized the creation and demise of everything I ever thought it could be.

There are many who govern without heart,
create without mind and live without passion.

Can I rule the world without inclination?

Not likely...

I have reached that moment where I refuse to breathe.

Wednesday, July 06, 2005

Mangoes!

So, don't ask me why, but lately I have been having this really strang obsession with mangoes lately. Yes, really weird isn't it?

I think this recent rash of obsession started a few weeks back. There's wasn't any internet on campus, so was stuck cruising the university website. (Don't shun me, had to get my internet fix somehow!) I ran across an article advertising the sale of produce at Finca Alzamorra (the farm on campus that is linked with the agriculture sutendts and the Agriculture Extention Service). They were selling MANGOES!

When I told people that I wanted to make it all the way to the farm (its out of the way and across campus), everyone looked at me all funny. Why pay for getting a mango when the entire campus is littered with them?

Here's the deal. Why pick one off the floor, scouting for an unruined one, when I can simpl buy a perfect fruit and the only scouting I have to do is for the variety that strikes my fancy?

This all reminds me of the time, a few years back, when I was visiting my older brother on campus. We were walking to go take one of his classes when we passed by a lot of fallen mango. Since he was giving me a sort of tour, he pointed out to them and said "And here are the mangoes, a way for the campus to feed its students." I remember how much I giggled about that and it brought a giggle to me yesterday when I saw a huge covering of liters all over the ground.

I still haven't gone to buy my mango yet, but I will. Won't be happy until I get it. I won't be happy until I get a few other things too, but that's a different blog story.

Sunday, July 03, 2005

Ho ho ho... dammit pass the rum

A pirate’s life for me?

Arrr, your booty shivers me timbers.

That was a line that I thought would never be applied to me. Sure, it was a funny little flirty line on yahell messenger and one some of my online friends would send me for shits and giggles. However, yesterday, I was actually a pirate. (According to my uncle, I looked more like a gypsy.)

Allow me to explain the situation. My little brother turned nine yesterday and, like most child parties, it had a theme. (So far we have had Winnie the Pooh, Harry Potter, Superheroes and Spiderman) This year it was decided that we would have a pirate themed party and that it was actually going to BE a party. Invitations were sent by the dozens, things were ordered over the internet by the dozens and food was bought and planned. Like the years before, it was also decided that I was to dress up for this party. Why purchase entertainment when they have me?

In result, I have to fabricate some sort of costume out of whatever I could find and say I was a pirate. After everything was said and done, I can say that the party was a success. Thanks in a large part because of me and my beloved ‘husband’. Kids ran around, pirates were made, water balloons were thrown, water fights were had, a lot of food was consumed, and I feel like I got beaten with a stick.

We sat down and here’s the final count:
70 people participated in the festivities of which about 21 were kids, 18 were mostly from the age of 7 to 11.
Approximately 60lbs of meat (2 pork shoulders, 1 turkey, hot dogs, chicken thighs and ground beef)
7lbs of bread
2 packages of macaroni salad
10lbs of red potatoes
1lb of baby carrots
4 super sized bags of chips
2lbs of sour cream
3lbs of cream cheese
2lbs of coleslaw
1lb of rice
1 very large cake
1 extremely large tub of vanilla ice cream
several pounds of fruit combined to make fruit salad
several liters of soda, water and alcohol
250 water balloons
and I’m sure that I’m forgetting something…. So tons of whatever I have missed


Most of the people who actually worked the event didn’t get a chance to eat the food that took so much time and effort to prepare. But… looking back, a great time was had (By others, certainly not by me). I put into practice the fake smile we have spent many years perfecting to be in front of cameras. I also learned how to evade questions about my dear friend in front of all my family. Have they forgotten that I’m 19 and willingly single? Seems they have. I’m old by family standards. I should have run off and be pregnant by now. But I’m not… what a shame. Guess that’s what family is all about.