Lazy Lazy Days

I am so ready for Monday. Monday, I will be going back to classes and seeing people, and doing stuff. Though not alot of stuff, since it's J-term. So for 2/3 weeks (I'm not sure if it's 2 or 3) I will be doing Illustration for children's Literature! I'm excited for it. Plus I know pretty much everyone who's going to be in it. And I like them all, too!

So, I did have a good Christmas. We had no tree, not much Christmas decorations, and no snow, but I still thought 'twas lovely. Plus I got a new fleece blanket! Which I had been wanting for a while. Didn't even see it coming. Ah, Christmas. The time for exchanging gifts and love and happiness all around. (See? I'm not a Scrooge!) Plus, I got a lil key chain version of the unicorn PillowPet!!!!! And it totally matches my big unicorn PillowPet. So cute.

Well, I'm off to try to finish my Dad's Christmas present. It's a picture. A large one. That I refuse to do half-assed. No siree, this is going to be amazing.

Why Must You Call me Scrooge?

   I find it funny, that just because Christmas (the season, the time of year, the music) isn't my favorite, people call me Scrooge. It's even funnier when most these people are also proclaiming about the real Reason for the Season. It's Baby Jesus' birth! If that's the Reason, why do you get disappointed in me for not being the biggest fan of the commercialized holiday?
  I happen to be just fine with warmer weather. I dislike being cold. It's horrible. And I like rain. If it's too cold for rain, it snows. That's two strikes against "white" Christmases and Winter Wonderlands. Plus I dislike the color white. It's just so very white. I prefer color. And so, three strikes!
   And then there's Christmas music. There are very few Christmas songs I actually enjoy. All of them happen to be the non traditional carols. For instance, 30 Days by NeverShoutNever. Or In Like a Lion by Reliant K. Even Justin Beiber's Mistletoe (It's just so catchy.) The rest is mostly trite and overdone. It's the same song, same basic beats, and yet a teensy bit different. Almost like deja vu. Those people who love listening to it year round don't really help improve my feelings about it.
   Now I happen to love stuff. I do. Vaguely materialistic. And it's great when other people buy it for you! But I'm pretty sure that I'd be alright with not getting presents. I'd get over it. It's not the end of the world. Well, maybe for some little children. But, it's not about the presents, the snow, the music. It's not about time off from work, or power shopping. Christmas is about being thankful, and content, and peace on Earth, and all that Jazz. It's about the Doctor Who Christmas special, and being safe from Daleks, and Cybermen. It's about being content about what you have, and not being greedy and demanding some gifts, but if some happen to come your way, a bit more thankfulness. Throw some good will towards men, some time with family/people you love, and there's your Christmas.
   And let us remember what happened to Scrooge. He became a huge lover of the Christmas time. Now, I'm not saying that someday I'll see 3 ghosts and go on journeys to see parts of my life. But I am saying... If you're going to compare me to a fictional character, at least make it one where the character is soundly, all the way through, what you are trying to accuse me of.
Merry Christmas!

My Damn Awesome Blog on Cussin'.

Picture by Kris Wilson

A while ago, Mr Professor Steve Leeper man talked about swearing, and while we shouldn't swear bunches upon bunches, we should swear if it is called for.

And then we had the film, Fridge. And we were divided between who found it offensive because of the language and who wasn't. And I was one of the people to raise my hand when he called for the unoffended people. It kind of felt like a slap on the hand while the other hand was in the cookie jar, unashamedly. But a slap you could see coming out of the very corner of your eye.... If you were paying attention, of course. I decided not to talk about it or blog about it when everyone else did, because it felt to mainstream to do it then. (hipster joke anyone?)

I know sometimes for me, it is easy to want to cuss. Hollywood made it seem vaugely glamorous, and my parents didn't help by flat out forbiding it and any usage of it no matter what. And I, being the willful, Human child thing that I am, said It's my choice. Is it wrong? People tell me so. Why? I don't know, and no one can give me a better answer than it's wrong. Which doesn't quite seem like a good enough reason. It's like evolutionists saying how old are these rocks? well we can see that they are this old because of the skeletons in them. and how old are they skeletons? well, we can tell how old they are because of the rocks they are in. And it just goes round and round and round.

I want to not do something, or not believe something, because I believe it is wrong. Not because someone told me it was bad, and then took away my beloved books as a consequence. But because I have a conviction deep inside, that tells me and makes me believe that I should not do that. Or that I should.

So in a way, I am sad that I let people down (because I hate letting people down.) But am I ashamed that I wasn't offended? Not really. Maybe in 20 years, I'll be wiser, or I'll have kids who I don't want cussing, and then I'll say, "Damn. Why wasn't I offended?" (you see what I did thar?)

 

Your name must be Cheerio's, Cause you're good for my heart <3

 

Dogs with no legs and Mindless Words

In my class, we had watched this short about a man and his wife trying to sleep, with their dog outside. And the dog would bark, because there were wolves out there. But the man got frustrated with the barking, so everytime the dog barked he cut off a limb till he was just parts scattered around. and then he didn't bark, and the wolves came and stole the wife. So the man sewed the dog back up, the dog saved the wife, and then they cut up the man the way he had cut up the dog. This was all animation, there was no bloody gushing or unnecessary gore.
And yet. It really freaked me out and disgusted me. If you had turned to look at me, you probably would have laughed at my face... at least other people have when I made that face. Kyle did the other day... Thank you for that, by the way. Ba-zinga.
It's weird, I can handle other violence better than the understated kind. A war scene, with blood flying everywhere? No problem! A vampire going for the throat? Pssshh, kid's stuff. American McGee's Alice? I love it. Je t'aime beaucoup. A poor little dog hopping around with no legs? Freaks me out like nothing else. It probably doesn't help that I already wasn't feeling well. (That person trying to cough quietly throughout class? that was me. Dear people witting in front of me: I tried my hardest not to cough or spray germs on you. I'm really sorry if I accidentally coughed on you.... Also the reason I nodded when Leeper asked if I was going to fall asleep. I was just too tired to think first.) Now I also freak out easily. So maybe it's me. But at the same time, maybe it's partly the media? I mean, as a kid I'd see the PG, and think it's not that bad. It's mild violence. And then I'd get older, and since I was the headstrong child thing that I was, I was certain I could handle it. I was grown up enough, dangit! I don't need no parents to tell me what I can and can't watch! And now I old enough to legally buy R rated movies. (Is it weird that at 17, you can see R rated film in the theaters, but to get it from the library, you have to be 18? I think that's weird.) So maybe I've slowly been immersed in the epic gory, that the only thing that gets to me is the symbolic gory?
I think the real thing that disturbed me was I could see myself in it a tiny bit. Not that I'd go out and chop a person/dog up (because that would only make me sick, and I probably couldn't do it anyways) but that the tireder I get, the more of my inner sadist comes out. We all have an inner sadist, you can admit it. The part of you that feels justified when some one you don't like gets punished. The part of you that is glad when that one guy gets pulled over by the cops. For me, it comes out when I'm cramping, feeling really badly/sick, or really tired. For instance over the summer, I counsel at two summer camps, each one only a week. Now at the beginning of the week, you try to be nice, wanting the little chillens to like you. At the end, you don't care if their little feelings get hurt, if you tell them no it means no, if you say they have to do something, they have to do it, and no matter how many times they beg, you will not share your eye liner, and no matter how many times they try to re-bargain, you will not draw them a ballerina. I don't care if your mother will be disappointed, or if she'd really like a ballerina. You reneged on your part of the deal. But I'm not bitter. (I'm really not, I love doing the camps.) But you just stop caring about other people's feelings. And isn't that what the man does? He just stops caring about the dog. It's irritating, and he wants it to stop. The main difference is he resorts to physical violence, we just laugh maniacally to ourselves, or use our words (like our parents taught us.) And we just. Don't. Care.
And we should. Oh we should. I'm often careless with my words. I'll be the first to admit. And when I'm tired enough, that little edit we normally have in our heads? It just disappears. Things I think are funny aren't. Sometimes I say stuff that just doesn't make sense, or is so very obscure no one gets the reference and it's ruined. And if you hurt me, my first instinct is to hurt you in the exact same way you hurt me. (Apparently I can also be really funny when I'm tired according to my friends) Words are easier to take out of context. Everything is amplified, and not always in a good way. We laugh, we cry, it moves us Bob. It's like in the 2003 Peter Pan. (I just watched that and Hook over the weekend) We're the fairies that are so small, we can only have one feeling at a time. I don't know about you, but I don't want to be old, look back at my life only to see dogs with no legs or tail or bodies littered in my wake.

Dear Joel, or accepting other people's point of views

This is another blog from my old blog, one where it felt like the whole class was ganging up on this one kid, just for being offended by swearing and the like. I felt it was necessary to write an entire blog just to him, because it needed to be said. And it needed to be said in a right way. One that wouldn't make him feel like he had to defend himself, or that he was being attacked. Lots of other people I talked to said that they thought he needed to grow up. I thought it was sweet. Is he right? Is he wrong? I personally felt the opposite of him, but I don't know if that means he's wrong, per say. You know? It seems like a Narnia to me. We read about it, and we'd like to believe it exists, but we just can't bring ourselves to believe it's true.


Dear Joel
I like you. I mean I barely know you. But I just want you to know, I'm not sitting there on my high horse, thinking you to be stupid, or naive. I'm sure you're not. I'm not trying to say, you're so very wrong. Or that since I'm right, you must be wrong. And if you ever feel like I (or the whole class) just isn't getting, and you just want to yell at us, that's cool. I've felt like that over other stuff. And I actually feel sad that there is no one else in the class who raised their hand when Leeper asked if anyone else feels the same as you. It seems like it would be hard and lonely to be the only one with that important thought/value.
I want you to know, I do admire you for standing up and saying what you believe. That takes balls. Even if it is just over the blogs, were we can write everything. It's a different genre in the everything scope. I find it easier to get my thoughts out online, where I can think first. Carefully pick this word or that till it's crafted just right. In class, though, even if I have a thought, I won't share it. I'm not that brave.
I do think it would be lovely to be in a world with out any cussing, swearing, debauchary, drug- taking or wrongness. I wasn't being sarcastic. But I also feel strongly about showing the colors as they should be. Maybe it's because I am someone who likes to draw, and I am someone who sees the world very visually, but as I was sitting in class listening to the Debate, the thing that came to my mind was coloring. A rather childish yet fun thing to do. But I was thinking, if you're trying to draw the Little Mermaid (the iconic Disney Ariel) then what color are you going to color her hair? Blue? Gray? No. If you are going to truly draw Ariel, then her hair is going to be red. And not a light pink, or a deep mahogany, it is going to be a bright, brilliant red. It wouldn't be true to her if you made it any other color.
You also asked how do I deal with my mind being actively involved with a movie, and added "Let not my heart be drawn to what is evil, to take part in wicked deeds with men who are evildoers; let me not eat of their delicacies". I believe there is a difference between being drawn to what is evil and taking part in what is evil and acknowledging exists. In fact, I think the verse is a plea. I mean, I don't know about anyone one else, but I am definitely drawn towards evil. I don't know if anyone's noticed, but I have a semi dirty mind. That's what she said jokes are hilarious. I've lied before, and even when in some situations where I stay strong and don't lie the temptation is still there. Often, my first reaction is to be a jerk. (I was going to use a different word, but I restrained myself for you) I'm human. We all have flaws, humanities. It's what makes us human. What makes us relate with other humans, or even just characters in films.
I also feel that if you take away all the bad stuff, you don't give the chance to heal. Bad stuff happens. Death. Betrayal. Vices. Immorality. Falsifying. No, it's not right. And yes, we all know it exists. But if you have a story, and nothing bad happens, or the characters are all good people doing good things in a good story, where's the growth?
I normally add pictures that are pictures. I think except for times where I posted videos, they've all been drawings or paintings. But I felt like photos would be better in this case. Because with photography, at least with the old school version, all you can do is capture what's there. If there's a picture of an old, broken man with a bottle of Jack with tattoos of naked women on his arms, then your picture is going to be of an old, broken man with the bottle of Jack, with tattoos of naked women on his arms. And it can be beautiful. It can be the truth. It doesn't ask you how you feel, or ask if you don't agree. It just lays there. Just asking to be seen. And heard.
I don't comment on a lot of blogs. I don't like just having trite comments, like OMIGOSHHES ME 2!!! Or I agree. Or I like your face. Or you suck. I want to be the type of commenter who adds to the conversation, not just the comments. I also don't want to offend anyone, though I know you can't please everyone, and even if you could, I'll probably end up offending someone soon any ways. I'm not very good at keeping my thoughts to myself. Especially when I'm tired, than I have a hard time just shutting up, never mind editing my thoughts. But sometimes it's important to speak up. I feel like on your blogs, I like what I hear, but I can't except it. I think a tiny bit of it might be from being close to my uncle who feels he can't go to church, because he feels he won't be welcomed. Or the DC Talk song that says the number one reason that people don't come to Christ is because of Christians who say they follow Jesus with their mouths but don't follow him with their actions. (That might not be verbatim, I haven't heard that song in a long time.)The thing with Christians in movies- They're probably following a stereotype. And stereotypes all start somewhere. There's always a reason why those stereotypes started. Always.

If you made it to the end of this, I want to reaffirm what I said at the top. I like you. You seem like a nice person. It would be cool to be friends with you. I feel like I never see you on campus except for this class.... I mean, maybe you passed by, and I just never noticed, because I was busy being oblivious or something. I hope you don't feel singled out, or that you're in the wrong. I don't think you're in the wrong, I mostly think it's a bit unrealistic, and a bit untruthful. But maybe that's your calling. To make films that are untainted. That are unapologetically wholesome and sunny. And if that is your calling, I hope you do amazing in that.

I found this quote in one of the artist's comments on one of the pictures I almost used. And I thought it fit. It didn't have who said it, though. We were all affected. But you were affected directly. Or at least, in a more obvious way than us. And since you were affected, we were affected indirectly. And I'm pretty sure it's a good thing. So, thank you.

“Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly. I can never be what I ought to be until you are what you ought to be. This is the interrelated structure of reality."

I hope you're nice and dry, and doing something that makes you happy right now.
Love, me <3



Also, there were actual photos at the top (we had to have photos or videos in our blogs) but as they did not belong to me, and this is public to the web, I didn't want to accidentally post someone's artwork if they didn't want it posted. If I find it on tumblr or flickr, and it's already been reblogged hundreds of times, I wouldn't feel as bad about it, but the pictures I had used were from people's personal Deviantart.

 Pick up line time!!!
I could be in a room full of people, and you would still be the only person to catch my eyes.
Let's flip a coin. Heads, you're mine. Tails, I'm yours.
Do you like soda? Cause I'd love to Mountain Dew you.
I thought happiness started with an H, so why does my happiness start with an U?
Time together is never quite enough.
If I used spell check it would turn you&I into us.
If you ever go into the woods, and a bear attacks you, I hope it doesn't eat your face, cause I think you're cute.
I hope your day has been as beautiful as you are. :)
There are 21 letters in the alphabet, right? Oh! I forgot... U R A Q T
I've had a terrible day, but it always makes me happy when a gorgeous person smiles at me. Will you smile for me?

The Nerd Factor. (also from the old blog)

Well, first off. I found I picture of a little beaver in a cape flying around. Yup.


Whenever I talk about nerdy stuff, I feel like I'm simultaneously giving my nerd credentials and name dropping.

There's something wonderful about people who make references to nerdy type things. Literature. Comics. Manga. Movies. Old music. Especially in casual conversation. It's so wonderful. It's like an inside joke you can have with a complete stranger. You don't know each other, you don't know a thing about them. But you feel they are all right because you over heard them talking about something like Doctor Who. Or maybe they were talking about something about their favorite Jedi and you knew who it was, even though he's a rather obscure character. (My favorite's Quinlan! You've never heard of him? I'm not surprised.... #hipster) Or it's a friend of a friend, and you're just chilling together while the mutual friend is off being social. And you start a conversation about Harry Potter.

It makes me so happy to be able to nerd out with someone else who's a huge fan of the same things. So. Very. Happy. Pretty much, if any one could reference all of the things I nerd about the most in casual conversation.... Well, let's put it this way. If they asked me to marry them, I'd say yes and be completely serious. Da da da da, you found a winner!

I kind of want to mention all the nerdy goodness I can, just to see if someone else is just as nerdy as me in all the ways as me.

Recycled post about Books

*All the pictures are from Tumblr.... I don't know how to credit whom.
There's just something wonderful about a good book. Especially an old friend of a book. You may have read it before, but it still thrills the heartstrings, and plays them for a sucker. I know I'm a sucker for my favorite series and authors. If a new book comes out in a series I love, there might be slight bouncing around and squealing in excitement. Though I try to keep it to a minimum, as I normally am in a library (which happens to be my favorite place in the world) when I discover this wonderful happening. Normally ends up with me smiling too much. But what are you going to do?
I sit here in my room, surrounded by some of my best friends, and I look at them and I remember the times I've had with them. The times many times some part of me has fallen asleep because I've been too engrossed in the tale to move. The times I've wanted to remember a certain page, but I didn't have a bookmark so I tried really hard to memorize the page number. The times when I'm just trying to read, but people keep asking me about what I'm reading so I get all pissy and avoid the question as best I can. The long car rides, where I drowned out everything except for my mother's voice.

The times I've been in an enchanted castle wondering around trying to find the library. The time I was chatting with the Cheshire. The time I was a spy. The time I visited the Louvre. The time I flew on a dragon's back. The time I met John and Jack and Charles and Tumnus And Jules. The time I went to face Smaug. The time I caught the snitch. The time I ran on rooftops and talked to gods without fear. The time I was at Camp Half-blood. The time I visited the summer court of the fae and came out years later. The time I rode black beauty. The time I visited a dinotopia, and got lost in a different world. The time I killed myself for mine love was dead. The time I sledded with Calvin, and learned something with Frazz and haunted the night with Bruce and Logan.

The time I lived on Mango street, and the time where all I wanted was to be the catcher in the rye, and the time Lizzy was dancing with Darcy, and the time Alice fell down the hole, and the horse and his boy made it safe and sound and Sakura lost her memories, and the time Georgie Porgie kissed the girls and made the cry, the time Gwain became the defender of ladies everywhere, and his squire turned out to be the prince of the summer council, and Percy finally found out who his father was, and Gen ends up king, Jacen ends up Darth Cademus, the Scarlett Pimpernell ended up being Sir Percy Blakeney, rain finally comes to Bamarre, Atalanta refuses to be princess, Charles Wallace is a genius who just needs time, and there is a great ring of endless lights.

There's something wonderful about a book. It's a portal, if you will, to another world, another life, another time. For a bit, we get to experience something that can be completely different from what we know. We laugh, we cry, we feel. It makes us think, it makes us dream, it makes us smile. Even if you aren't a big reader, the thrill of a book is expressed in millions of other ways, like songs, movies, audio books. But for me, there is nothing better than a bunch of pages with a bunch of little black squiggles. I love pictures and and picture books and the like, but if there's no pictures in my book, that's just fine with me. (Excluding my comics and comic books. There better be pictures, or I will not be happy.) It's like the perfect recipe for those prone to flights of fancy. Or those who have dreamed of what it would be like to fly. Both of which I have been guilty of.

You’re so hunky, you must be hiding a rapidly aging portrait somewhere in your attic.
Girl, you’re so flawless, even James Wood couldn’t find anything to criticize.

Do you know how I can contact Sherlock Holmes? Because I need to solve the mystery of how to win your heart.

We could make such a beautiful library together.

I can recall a an allusion to Shakespeare in reference to how beautiful you are.

Not even Veritaserum could make me express how much I’m truly attracted to you.

My love for you burns like a dying phoenix"You look so much like a princess, I put poison in that apple you're eating. Let's hope my antidote-chapstick does the trick."
It was a dark and stormy night.

Hey there

So, I have come to the realization that I like blogging. I've just finished my first semester of college, and I had a class where we had to blog. It was fun! I don't want to brag or anything, but I happened to be the best at it. It's not just me saying this, the whole class agreed with me.

I do have a tumblr, but tumblr happens to be a blocked website on campus. (Only good thing about being a commuter- Tumblr.) And as I tend to post more when bored or attempting to put off homework, I figured having a blog I can use on campus would be a good idea. Mmm. Blogging. Who knew it could be so fun?

So I don't really know exactly what I'll blog about. Just.... Whatever? Maybe something nerdy, maybe something pop culture. Maybe even something relevant to the world today. Or maybe I'll just express my personal little rants to the world. There will probably be blogs about art and drawing, probably ones about books. A couple based on my major (animation). Definately hipster jokes. And sprinkles of that's what she said sprinkled throughout.

Yup. I hope y'all are having a wonderful day. Even if you never read this blog, I hope it's a wonderful day. Though if you never read this blog, several hipsters will look upon you in disdain, for this is obviously the best blog ever. #hipsterjokesftw