Thursday, June 19, 2008

GINA WENT GOTH!!! (see below for details...)

According to a nine-year old girl today, I look like I am a Goth. I can't say that I know why... let's review the most defining stereotypical aspects of Gothic style and see if they applied to me today...

My overly dramatic, heavy makeup? Minimal eye shadow, no eyeliner, nothing black.

My long, pointy, and deathly black nails? Painted white, and chipped severely.

My extensive and gory succession of piercings and tattoos? Nonexistent.

My dark, shabby clothes with heavy chains, wicked spikes and ripped fabric? Well, that wasn't an indicator at all, considering that I was wearing a tae kwon do uniform at the time: pristinely white and still creased at the folds.

My zanily dyed hair, sticking up at odd angles? A natural shade of brown, in a ponytail, with somewhat messy side bangs sweeping the right side of my forehead.


I have yet to find out, exactly... I can only presume that a nine-year-old thinks that all girls in high school who have bangs and a dryly sarcastic sense of humor are Gothic. Well, as this year's reigning champion of the "Anything For A Laugh" contest, I will show up to my third tae kwon do lesson with freshly-painted black nails and perhaps, if I feel up to it, some wild eye makeup. I'm Goth now? Okay, I'll show you how Goth I supposedly am... MUAHAHAHA!

Thursday, June 12, 2008

Blog, Blog, Blog

Um, hellooo?
Have you all forgotten already?
Ok, so my blog has been empty far too long...
accept for Gina! (Thanks Gina!)
You people need to visit me!
Please, just put your heart on paper.

Monday, June 2, 2008

Calling All Inventors to the Batter's Box...

We need to create a Pensieve-like device (hi Harry Potter fans) that can extract the bits of stories directly out of our heads so we won't have to bother with lengthy head-to-paper transcription. It would be so good in class when I have a bunch of ideas floating around that I can't use or will forget quickly because of the annoying thing of having to pay attention to the teacher. It would also help tremendously with the remembering of dreams. Some of mine have been pretty darn amazing, but I lose them just as fast if I don't write them down in full detail almost immediately.

Speaking of dreams, here's one I wrote down in full detail in my notebook, one of my most complete records to date: February 18th, 2008

The dream is set in an alternate version of my school. The desks are set in columns in the narrow room. All the best people are there. On the announcements the guy says, "We will have a new voice joining us, [name I can't remember]", and she has something to do with The Bridge to Terabithia. The girl has a clear, strong voice and they announce people who could fill in for them if they were out, including "Mark Mark [last name]". (I have deleted full name to protect his identity.) All the names announced were nicknames. Before this, Vivian was in my (wooden) seat (which had a special silly name I can't remember) which had space underneath to work or something. I let her have the chair and then I move back. Jacob comes in wearing a grey hoodie (hood is over his face at first) and tells me wryly that I'm in his seat and then I tell him I know, but someone has taken my seat already which is why I'm in yours and he moves to another seat then the whole announcement thing happens... then we're on a bus (no Maria) and there is blue carpet on the floor at first (I think) and someone (a boy who is either my age or a little bit older- Bryan maybe, that sort of person) tells an eighth grade kid to point at someone, how about her (meaning me) and do this weird tongue thing. I cross my legs as if to signal that I have been listening. The younger boy is hesitant, then sticks his tongue out for about two seconds, then stops. Another bus passes by (road on either side has green leafy trees so that you can't see anything else) in +-intersection. On the bus's muzzle it says a series of numbers and "CALONIAL". I laughed at it because of the misspelling and assumed it was going to Colonial Village. Then we turned left down another road, the we stopped as we turned right at a +-intersection. A lady I recognized who I think had been in some of my other dreams got on the bus. She was holding a marvelous layer cake-type thing, except the layers weren't held together by frosting so she passed out the individual layers. The top layer had chocolate on top and the frosting could be pulled off easily. Like the other layers (which only had the waffle-like texture on the outside and no frosting), the top one was filled with delicious yellow custard. I didn't get a ring/layer (for they were rather a lot like humongous, flat donuts), but several of the people around me did, including Blake and the kid who did the sticking-out-tongue thing, and a blond kid (?). The bus driver also got one (my regular bus driver) and I could see in the mirror that the dessert was lovely. She closed her eyes, savoring the ring. I managed to mooch some off of the blond (?) kid, telling him that he had caused me trauma, and I would forgive him if I got some of his ring (he was the first to get one, I am pretty sure). I also told Blake's friend that I needed some of his to heal from the trauma he had caused me and he tore off a piece from Blake's. (Blake's friend hadn't had one in the first place.) The woman, who I think works at my school (and was wearing a pink hat and a scarf?) stepped off the bus as my driver said "Thank you" and we drove away (the bartering might have taken place at this point, but whatever.) Then I woke up! It's interesting to note that besides authority figures and Vivian, there weren't really any females in my dream, not in the bus or in the homeroom. Odd.

(I apologize if this was hard to read. This is an almost direct transcription of the account in my notebook, and I wanted to stay as true to the original as possible. The whole thing was a huge run-on paragraph for 4 notebook pages. I will be interested to hear any Freudian translations as to what this dream means, as well as anyone who would like to build me a Pensieve or who has a recipe for the waffle-donut crossbred.)

Sunday, June 1, 2008

So, Aunt Connie, who were the Mestons?

I just got through with reading the ship diary of my ancestor James Meston, from his 1878 journey with his family from Aberdeen, Scotland to New Zealand on board the Oamaru.There was a sentence or two, or even a few paragraphs written for each day, along with their coordinates. It was fascinating to try to envision the scenery and the people on the ship. The most interesting thing was how they were all so unconcerned with death. About three or four people (including two babies) were recorded as having died on the ship, and then were never mentioned again in subsequent entries. Of course, everyone had about five children, so I guess maybe it wasn't such a big deal. It still made me wonder, though, if they really were grieving and it just wasn't recorded in the diary. It took me about 45 minutes to read this sparse account of the 12-week journey, and I am wondering about some of the smaller details. He often mentions the birds they see off the sides of the ship. I laughed a bit at the entry where the ship is "tearing along" at 13 miles per hour!

And now I know who the Mestons are, thank you very much.