~Blog Update~

So. Four posts in a day. I wonder if I’ll ever beat that record.

Anyhow, I’ve changed the theme, because of course, I got sick of the Eiffel Tower (not sick enough that I don’t want to go there anymore, (still on my bucket list or whatever it’s called, to do list? forget.) but sick enough that I don’t want it on my background. I went for something more new, and… fresh? Vegetables! :D

And the Lemon up there is me. Because it has a lot in common with me. For one, it’s yellow.

And it’s a small sort of vegetable? Or fruit. I forget. Hah. This is pathetic. I’m going into high school and I have no idea whether lemon is a fruit or not. Whatever.

Yeah whatever. I’m not sure about the Lemon. And similarly, I’m not sure about myself.

Yeah if you’ven’t noticed (DOUBLE CONTRAPTION THINGIE!), I actually drew the title and the side-page-link-thingie. The font, of course, goes to “sugar frog fonts,” at sugarfrogfonts.com or .org or .net or whichever it was (I think they turned off their site a while ago, what a pity, they had cool handwriting fonts…).

Wait a minute.

Sugar frog fonts?

I SOLEMNLY SWEAR I DID NOT COPY THEM. Geez, I’m kind of sad now, it has a similarly-sounding blog/website name. Darn it.

Whatever.

But here is the blog update, anyhow. Tada.

 

And here’s a screen pic, because in the future, I might change the blog layout again, so for keeping this layout:

Bye.

Another Sudden Realization

Whatever I don’t post often, so maybe three posts in on day will make up for the six months I will spend agonizing in school.

But anyhow.

(Is it six months?)

(Whatever.)

 

Anyhow, I had another sudden realization.

(I’m having lots of sudden realizations today.)

 

Everyone here is alive. Let’s assume that. (Because there are some theories ahemahemahem that the “I” is the only one alive, and that everyone else is just actually a part of my imagination, or rather, life, that doesn’t really think for it/he/herself, but actually is acting on accord of making my life spin in a better way than it would if I were alone in the middle of a desert ahemahemAKAtheproptheoryahemahem.

Everyone you see has their own story. (Obviously, I’ve ‘Suddenly Realized’ this a while ago, when I was in the middle of a crowd and wondered what caused the person next to me to get here, and stuff, and then I was all like OMGOMGOMG SUDDEN REALIZATION but that’s not the point.) Whether it’s you in New York, trying to squish your way across the street, or you in school, everyone has a life outside of the perspective in which you perceive them in. Their life is much more than class. In fact, to them, class may be merely a minimal part of their life. Everyone has a living story, with a living heart, that is beating, all in sync to create, what is called a community.

(lol I’m making this up as I go along)

(That just ruined the whole ‘feeling of the moment,’ didn’t it.)

(If there was a ‘feeling of the moment,’ that is.)

Well,

DARMITILOSTIT.

DANGIT.

DANGIT.

Wait.

Lemme

Um.

ummmm

(this happens a lot)

Okay whatever, I’ll just force myself to continue (it might come back that way)

Yeah. So this community, is sort of where everyone’s story interconnects with each other, like pieces in a puzzle, or even more complicated than that. Because everyone’s story also exists, they also think like you do, you know—I think right now, and I have my own thoughts and opinions and history, I have my own story, and memories, and so does the person next to me, they also have their own thoughts and history and memory.

DANGITILOSTITAGAIN.

Um.

What?

Well, Everyone exists. Together.

That’s what makes life, I think.

I think that was what I was thinking—I kind of forget.

NO IT’S SLIPPING.

I think it’s because I’m typing my thoughts.

I’ll stop now.

(Five minutes later~)

Okay it’s not working I was staring off into the trees for five minutes and realized I was creating a metaphor/simile/comparison relating the lengths of people’s lives to a mosaic/Piet-Mondrian painting. On a simpler note, not trying to remember what I forgot six minutes ago.

Darn it.

Well anyhow I was trying to say that because we each have our own thoughts, and we all have a life and a past and a future, it’s that that brings us together and creates a meaning in our life—if one person was all alone on an island, them being born and dying would create no impact, no importance, and no what-anything. But it’s because other people are around us that people have a meaning in life, and a goal, and that seed of hope, it’s because there are other people with their own stories, who are around us. If there is a famous person who died for a noble deed—if they died along with the rest of the people he tried to save, there would be no meaning to his life—his life, his name, and his honour would die right along with his body. Nobody would be there to notice him, or notice his deeds. But because we have our own stories, we life in our past, our present, and our future, it’s because of that that life has a meaning—that we hope to give an impact on others, not just ourselves. Because what’s the point, if you’re alone, what’s the point of living? Really? What is there to do but live, eat, and die? It’s because there are other people who are and aren’t like you, who do and don’t like you, that a true meaning is brought to life within your existence.

 

WHEW I GOT THAT OUT. After a sentence the original thought came back. Whew~ Thank Goodness.

Well, now that I wrote it down somewhere (typed, in this case), I’ll be able to get back to it and make it sound much more fluent and make some sense. It’s actually a premature thought. I have to think more about it. Whew.

 

I’m kind of tired from all that thinking. I’ll do some thoughtless, mind-not-requiring things. :D Bye.

Kind of Sad

Well, I haven’t posted in a while.

(A while=two minutes)

SO I shall now.

Because I just thought of something while updating my bucket list.

(Added two more.)

(o.o I just forgot what I added. Must check.)

(Okay I did.)

 

So anyhow, have you ever thought about space? You know, out there, besides this nice and cozy earth? Earth. Where we live, where we create endless, intricate complications on our own somehow, and manage to create big-enough problems so it destroys ourselves, and then somehow scapegoat the problem onto something/one else and manage to get away with it by trying to fix the problem that initially, it was us, our species, who created it? How, if there was no intelligent life here, intelligent as in world-destructing sort of intelligence, our earth would be so peaceful and harmonious within the balances of nature, where nobody is throwing soda cans into the ocean? (Then again, there has to be one intelligent life that evolves—Imean, there will always be a ‘smartest’ animal, no matter what, because “smartest” is a comparative adjective, meaning, as soon as there is more than one of a subject, the comparative adjective is immediately usable, meaning the smartest species of animal will eventually evolve—it just so happened that we are the ‘smartest.’) Well, on any point (I think I’m getting off track), there’s a lot more out there than us, we’re just a puny little dot-of-a-planet that has its own major problems and advantages (which we’ve all sucked the goodness out of…), wars and arguments, thoughts and temptations.

Yes, I forgot what I was going to say, and I realize it’s going in the complete opposite direction from where I initially intended to go.

Soanyhow what I was going to say was, we only read about outer space in books, only read about that feeling of zero-gravity in books, only stare laser holes through the adjectives and verbs and nouns printed neatly onto pieces of paper bound together with a cardboard cover reading “Insert Title About Astronomy and Astronauts Here.” We can never, ever, feel that sensation for ourselves, experience the wonder and excitement in finding a new world, a new place to be, a place that is different than what we call normal. We will always be stuck to the ground, unwittingly being pulled closer to ground-level, never able to float or feel free, because, unfortunately, the Great Being who supposedly created All That Exists did not supply us with wings or any sort of aerodynamic body-part. (The closest to that is the brain, because at least it MAKES things, like airplanes.)

It’s kind of sad, don’t you think? That we’ll always have to live in one world. One life. One chance. And the closest to another world, at the moment, is outer space—to feel, like Ender did in Ender’s Game (by O.S.Card), or like the Great Neil Armstrong, who was one of the first to truly experience that free-floating feeling, or like the unnamed intelligent life species out there, umpteen thousand, million, trillion miles away. (Or maybe aliens have their own gravity, too.)

Sometimes, I get sudden urges to wish for things. I’m, whacha say, easily inspired? I mean, I don’t even know what inspired me at the moment, but at one point, I kind of wished I had the personality and future of an astronaut (of course, as a weak, physically inept introvert, the chances of me being an astronaut is as close as my brother over there (going piew piew with his Legos) will sprout wings and fly off into the sunset). Really, it kind of makes me sad that I’ll die never knowing that exciting, exhilarating feeling you get when you don’t have to stick to the ground anymore. When water droplets expand and keep its round, perfect shape, instead of falling down into a line of water, where crying makes you grow tear-bubbles instead of streaming down your face, and walking is given a whole new concept. It’s kind of sad that we’re only limited to earth.

 

Then again, it’s a lot to have, Earth is—(I’m not trying to sound like Yoda. .-.), especially us, because we have created diversity within our species, in a different way than variations do in animals—we have culture and heritage, and so, the closest I can get to ‘another world’ is either in another country/culture, or another book to stick my nose in.

Kind of sad that we have this whole thing with money that prevents us from truly enjoying, hey, I’m not trying to sound cliché, but, the fruits of life. Because really, who wants to die and tell God, or whoever is the Great Being, if there is Great Being for you, but anyhow—who wants to die, and tell whoever-it-is, that you died as you were born—born poor, died poor, not able to experience anything from outer space to Paris—just because of this thing we call money, that supposedly evolved into the center of our lifestyle.

But hey, if this is Rome, we act like Romans. Honestly, I don’t like that, because I’d like to trample the place screaming KOREA, but if I do, I’ll just be shunned into the corner and die anyway, so it’s rather I follow that idiom/phrase, because, whatever wisdom is, you’ve gotta follow it if you’re human and you want to survive.

Sad, isn’t it?

What Awaits.

Darn it I’m road-blind, meaning I’m also hallway-blind, if you know what I mean.

What do I mean?

We went to the high-school orientation yesterday.

Yesterday, a day when I was literally stumbling everywhere, no idea where I was, and just following a fellow road-blindee also known as my mother. I mean, enough with the boring PowerPoint and droning on about our school’s ‘proud statistics’ and whatnot, but this school was probably BUILT TO CONFUSE NINTH GRADERS.

Or road-blind people.

Then again, that means every building is built to confuse (ninth graders, or whatever-it-is, whoever it is that is road-blind) a road-blind person.

But anyhow, I went home after blindly running into walls and lockers and windows, and had to map out everything and virtually go through the school day with fellow road-blindee, and finally figured out, after a struggling ten minutes looking at the map upside down, that the entrance was here and not there. OOOOH so that means that that’s where the parking lot is—I get it! And the entrance is here---OOOOOOHHH… Hey, it’s not that complicated, huh?

…Yeah, well, I realized that the ‘parking lot’ was included in the map.

Hah. Hah. Hah. This is calling for a terrible year.

But I went to the orientation thing and met friends (considerably less—the rest are in, ahemahem, other schools ahemahem), which was good, I guess, because it kind of makes me feel less terrible about going to school. Only, my worries have been brought up more than they were before, because now I realize how terribly lost I am in this high-school world.

How will I even find my LOCKER?

Imean.

REALLY?

I’ll get to school like ten minutes early (it’s the first day, I’ll somehow manage to convince my mother to take me to school…), and then find my locker in seven minutes, and then find a friend within two, and then follow them to class in one.

Hahahaha. Plan set.

 

…No, but seriously, what about the classes where I’m alone? So far only four people I know are in my classes, and some—I have no idea. Which is terrible, because I really, really don’t remember anything from yesterday.

 

aha. aha. ahaha. …ha.

Yeahno. I’m still not mentally prepared for this devastating event.

I still need about ten years of books, pencils, papers, and computers (computer is an essential). Maybe after ten years I’ll be mentally prepared. (Maybe less mentally prepared.)

But not now. Not tomorrow, and not the day after that.

 

Darnit well this thing called ‘reality’ is like “WELL WHO CARES SCHOOL STARTS AND THAT’S IT.”

D::::: Darnitdarnitdarnitdarnitdarnitdarnit.

Oh, well.

I hope high school doesn’t bite.

 

(Yes it does probably.)

Schedules

Fourth period lunch.

So it calls again.

I shall starve once more.

Here is my virtual day at school:

I stumble into school half-awake and half-wet and half-aware of my current whereabouts. I somehow find my locker, stuff my stuff in, and go to PE. I run a mile, throw up some cereal, and then manage to limp to Science. There, I dissect some frogs and huge annelids, where I promptly throw up once again. From there, I drag myself to English, and then faint from lack of nutrition (from throwing up all the cereal). Then, I finally get to Lunch, where suddenly I get a +3000 Power Up and hyperactively create chaos throughout the Commons. At that, I will miss the end of the period and therefore be late to Spanish, where the teacher curses and spits and screeches at me in Spanish (and I mentally add myself to Teacher Rehab). I somehow drag myself through the lengthy period, unable to decode any of the words the teacher says, and then find myself in Social Studies, where we learn about civilizations and how we are alive. I fall asleep. (Who doesn’t.) After a nice nap, I get overly hyper and then

:D DRAW FOR LOTS OF MINUTES. AND LEARN ART. EEEEEEYAY

And then I go home.

Who had PE first period? I’ll be dying. .-.

Am I a freshman? UGH really? A freshman. I refuse to adopt that word into the list of identifying terms that which describe me.

I shall be a…

nothing. I don’t want to be known as anything. I’d just like to be me, that’s all there is to it. Me.

No nicknames,

no identifying terms,

no froshie,

no freshman,

no freshmidget.

kaythanks.

yay~ so currently I am not known as anything! I have erased all terms that are used to identify my (1) social status (is there even a social status in this world?), (2) self, (3) level of school-ness.

Maybe I like ninth grader.

But I don’t like freshman.

What is it with me?

Well, I don’t know.

 

But anyhow, the only thing I like about my schedule is Art (sorry, Band, I am really sorry, but I do like Art too… ^^).

Not even Lunch appeals to me. It’s fourth period. Whaddaya know.

Fourth period lunch brings me back memories—stealing eighteen foam plates, probably fifty plastic spoons, sneaking out to band, escaping the lunch room, skipping class… (because lunch peoples actually thought we were fifth period people who just arrived early—pure luck, lemme tell you).

ahhh.

And what’s even weirder is that my whole schedule, is the SAME EXACT/SAME EXACT (who knows the grammatically correct order, and for that matter, who cares <besides Mr. F .-. >) as last year! Except for Gym and Elective, of course.

Isn’t that weird?

LOL I AM

Yes. LOL I AM.

Hey it sounds catchy. I shall make that a label now. :3

But.

LOL I AM

becoming a manga freak.

^.^** Well… it started with Death Note, which was not too long ago… maybe two or three months ago. It was just a simple interest, because at lunch, a friend was reading the Death Note manga, which she had borrowed from another friend. I spent half the period reading the first part of it, which I found very catchy and interesting and creepy.

Of course, about a month later, I was very interested in the ending, so decided to read the rest of it…

which I did…

almost.

(That’s another story.)

 

Then my interest tapered off, because I got interested in other things, like summer, and drawing, and Avatar, and ATLA…

But anyhow.

Then, my cousins came, and being in America, America being the most boring place you can be (if you go to K you’ll understand what I mean… .-. locked inside of the house almost—can’t go anywhere fun unless someone drives you there, and then has to ‘chaperone’ you, which takes out half the fun, according to my cousins (and I might have to agree… ^^)…). They got so bored they showed us One Piece.

Acutally it started when I showed Alex (my cousin) my deviant-art page, and I asked him if he read any mangas/watched any animes (thinking of Death Note), and then he said “yes I watch One Piece” (except in K) so I looked it up for him and then he spent like ten minutes looking at one piece fanart until I told him I needed to use the computer. xD

And then later on, he showed us a One Piece episode, then another, then another, until our parents were wondering why the house was so quiet to find us all aligned along the bed, watching One Piece from our laptop. (lol the only times the house got loud was when the video was buffering.)

ANYHOW, so I got interested in ONE PIECE, which obviously took off my interest of Death Note, because yeah, that’s how I am, ADHD style. And anyhow, then I started getting the manga-itis spreading through my body, so I downloaded an app, a manga reader app.

Then, I was just browsing through the manymanymany different manga titles, I looked at the ‘top Shippuden’ mangas, and found Naruto at the top of the list, and then wondering “what makes it so famous” (thinking of numerous Narutard friends) and then the rest is history.

 

(If you want to know history, it’s pretty much as follows: I became obsessed in Naruto. The end.)

 

And you know how I am. If I like a manga or something, I draw it. .-.

^^EHEE NARUTOOOO^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ (that’s a happyface times 10, btw)

Anagram Name

For characters and future reference:

Near The Devil’s Eye—Evelyn E. Daeshriet

(EH-veh-lin EE DAY-shree-ay)

 

Smile and Cry- Emily Scrand

Good Times

Hey I just noticed that if you take out the ‘s’ then it becomes the song “Good Time” by Owl City and C. R. Jespen.

Anyhow, that’s not the point. Just yesterday, my cousins left America to go back to (insert country here). Let’s call it ‘X.’

They were here for three weeks, and it was the most fun three weeks of the summer. They are awesome people with funny personality and I really do miss them. I wonder why our family had to move to America and not stay in X. I wonder why it’s me whose family was in America, in a foreign land, rather than someone else. All of my other cousins and aunts and uncles (nine aunts) live in X. It kind of makes you feel lonely and isolated, don’t you think?

I mean, of course, being in America is really fun, and it has its advantages and stuff, especially if you want to succeed in life, blah blah. And yes, I have lots of friends and good memories here.

But most of my family is halfway across the world, in X. (Except for my aunt, who is a nun, and she lives in San Francisco, but she moves a lot, so I can’t really pinpoint the exact distance I live from my closest-living relative.) And most definitely, all of my cousins are in X. To what I hear, they see each other so often, (as my cousin Steve teases, “I’ve seen them so much, I’m almost sick of them~ XP”) and they can always go to their house within thirty to forty minutes.

Sometimes I wish my cousins, my first cousins, would move to America. (By first cousins I mean the children of my mom’s older sister. She has six sisters, so… yeah.)

It’s so much fun being with your family, even your cousins, because for some reason, whether it’s the second time meeting them or the first, you feel closer to them than you feel with friends at school, who you meet nearly every day. You feel like you’ve met those cousins yesterday, and the day before that, and that this isn’t a meeting once a year.

At least, that’s how I feel.

Looking around my house, I can remember just like yesterday when I was doing Algebra II problems, looking at the clock every five seconds, (meaning, technically, with the whole distraction, one could say I was looking at Algebra II problems), anxiously wondering what my cousins would say when they came to our house for the first time and took a look at America. I remember just like yesterday when they barged into the house, full with smiles and excitement, with their rolly bags and jackets, coming into the house to make sure they made lots of noise and memories. When they came into my room, and I still couldn’t believe they were inside my house, and that they were sitting on my bed, and asking me where the bathroom was, and that America’s so big, and why we can’t walk by ourselves to the park, and why we couldn’t go somewhere far by ourselves…

Just like yesterday when my cousins were sulking around the house, saying that the first day was going by way too slow, how is three weeks going to go by, and them unpacking the thousands of food from X, with yummy X crackers and candy as well as a pencil set for me. Just like yesterday when I felt kind of awkward with them.

And it was just like yesterday that I was freaking out that there was three days left, and H would glare at me (jokingly) and Andrew would flick my head and say “Let’s play a game” just like yesterday we were running in the grass trying to catch the frisbee in Frisbee Football, a game Alex played at his school, and was really fun—Just like yesterday I was telling them a fun card game and how we played it until two in the morning…

Just like yesterday.

And just like tomorrow, the time always comes, when we have to comment on how fast time flies, and how we’ll miss each other, and wave to each other until the other is out of sight, disappearing into the line of people holding their passports to go to another land…

 

And like tomorrow, the day will come when they’ll come again, and we’ll go to X too, and we’ll meet each other at least once a year, I hope. I hope that we won’t have to say that we’ve met our cousins only twice, that we know who they are and what their favorite food is, and what game they play 24/7, and what brand of clothing they like the most.

Looking around the house, they’ve left no trace that they were here, no trace at all, just like they weren’t here, almost. Except for the Nike tag they forgot to throw away, and the game that shows on the screen when I turn on my iPod, and a warmth in our hearts, hope that we’ll see them in just 365 days..

Travelling Troubles

Okay, so, we went to New York City (Central Park, Apple Store, Times Square…), Washington D.C. (You know the places—museums and the White House and the Washington Memorial and whatnot), and Boston (Harvard, MIT…).

Let me tell you what happened on those three trips, and why we have the worst luck possible in picking dates for ‘travelling,’ and why I’m scared to go to the Statue of Liberty in a few days.

New York City

So, when we went to New York, we rode the car (not train) all the way to NYC, and then we walked to Central Park. It was drizzling. Then, we walked for about an hour in Central Park, because my dad said he knew where the lake thingy was, but apparently, between him and his iPhone, something went wrong, and we ended up walking in circles. When that tired us enough, it started raining more. And when I say more, I mean, POURING. RAINING CATS AND DOGS. (Plus we were hungry).

We ran all the way to the edge of Central Park, meanwhile getting soaking wet. Seriously soaking wet. Our hair was like we just stepped out of the shower, and our clothes were sticking to our skin like we decided to jump into the pool with all of our clothes on. Literally.

So we stood under a ledge of a big building (and it wasn’t a ‘big’ ledge, so to say), and waited for the rain to stop, while stuffing KimBap into our mouths.

But thankfully, the day got better after that, because the rain eventually stopped, and we went to the Apple store and Times Square, which was really fun.

 

Washington D. C.

A bit farther than New York’s distance, so we woke up at five and then left at six forty four, forty four minutes off schedule (we had planned to leave at six o clock sharp, but you  know what always happens..).

We hadn’t eaten breakfast, because my mom had made a beautiful breakfast meal and put it in the icebox for us to eat along the way (as in, stop at a small park with those wooden tables and stuff to eat, on the way to Washington). So when we were pretty much in Washington D. C., we stopped at a small park, as scheduled, and happily went to the back of the car to pull the icebox out of the trunk--
that wasn’t there.

We had, in the whole hurry of being forty four minutes late, left (one of) the most important things of the trip—food. Of course, we had rice. And seaweed thingy (kim). But the BANCHAN WAS MISSING. 반찬. So we happily ate rice and kim. (Because rice and kim don’t need to be cold, we had that in a separate bag that we brought.) Good thing we at least brought the rice. .-.

Anyhow, after the fulfilling breakfast, we then arrived at Washington very early, and parked the car and left to walk here and there and have a nice day at Washington D.C. Of course, it was scorching hot that day, and we were already sweating rivers of sweat and sizzling in the heat within an hour.

(Plus, my cousins aren’t the ‘can-endure-lots-of-walking’ type, especially if it’s under a ninety eight degree sun.)

So we walked here and there, noticing how far each memorial was from each other, and looking in envy at people with cold water and ice cream (while we were holding nearly boiling bottled water) (nah it was just really warm). We did stop by once to buy two bottles of Gatorade, but in our hurried fight to drink more of the refreshing drink, we forgot to let our parents have a sip. (Sorry, Mother and Father. ): )

We then went home in the night, and in between the long car ride, we stopped at WaWa’s in Maryland. That was probably the best part of the trip, because that WaWa’s place was really clean and organized and their food was DELICIOUS. (Sandwich). (Maybe it was because we were tired and hungry.) I don’t know, their strawberry smoothie and sandwich was probably the most remember-able part of the trip. OMNOMNOMNOM.

 

Boston

So we left for Boston at around ten or eleven, thinking we wouldn’t spend much time there and stuff. And plus, in the morning, we were busy trying to convince my dad not to go to Boston so we could rest and stuff. So we dragged time quite a bit.

Leaving late means arriving late. And of course, we spent seven hours in the car (lots of traffic…) and arrived at Boston around five or six. Really late.

We went to Harvard, and the place was AWESOME. So was their bookstore—it was like Harvard Coop or something like that? I don’t know, but when we stepped in there for the bathroom, I saw much more than a bathroom there. I wanted to stay there for a while (but we had to leave) and read all of the books (that I wanted to read that were) there.

But because of the time constraint (we can’t leave too late, because that would mean we would get home in the morning), we hurried from Harvard to MIT to the Quincy Market thingy. And it rained a lot (not as much as Central Park, thank goodness), so we were all fighting over three puny umbrellas while trying to pose for pictures.

By the time we were at Quincy Market, it was about nine thirty, and all of the food-giving places were closed. Except for the bars and super expensive restaurants. (Well, not super expensive, but expensive when it comes to paying for seven hungry people).

We had no choice but to go to McDonald’s.

…

Yeah, I know.

And the best part is, when we left the place, we noticed that Chipotle’s was still open, and also another sandwich place (I forget, it was either Seven Eleven, Quick Check, or Subway’s).

Amazing.

We got home at two thirty in the morning and passed out on the floor (or bed, depending on where we slept).

 

And in those three trips, we ate lots of: soda, fast food, chips, Oreos, and other fattening, unhealthy edible items.
I’m worried about our health. D:

 

Well, besides that, it was actually pretty fun! :D I just hope that our trip to the Statue of Liberty won’t have any weather-like constraints and troubles. For once. ^.^