So I stumbled on a journal-thing I was forced to write in 4th grade, one of those "answer the question on the board every day" things, I think. It's full of stickers. And embarrassingly bad grammar, unreadable cursive and horrible spelling.
And surprising wisdom! Hello nine year old self, how weird are you?
Lemme toss some quotes at you, and I'll even leave in the spelling errors for authenticity.
"I wouldn't like to live to be 100 years old because I think life would be misrebale"
(Really, the orange smiley face next to it just makes it.)
"When I grow up I want to be a paleantologist because I think dinosaurs are cool."
(I wanted to be a paleontologist from kindergarten to like... seventh grade, not even kidding.)
"I don't like to watch or play any sport because I don't like sports."
"I think 20 years from now, I would be studying animals in the jungle."
(I've got ten years to make that happen, nine year old self... I'll try not to let you down!)
"If I could take a voyage to space I would hope to see aliens, spaceships, and all of the planets because I would want to have a big adventure in space."
(Yes, all was underlined. ALL of the planets! And I think I used some form of the word adventure at least five times in my entries.)
"The good thing about being able to fly is you could go wherever you wanted. The bad thing is if somebody saw you flying everybody would try to catch you to make money."
"If all the clocks in the world started going backwards nobody would know what time it was."
...Well, I can't argue with that logic!
"I am willing to save my money so I could get, "Street Jets" because they're shoes that can turn into skates."
Mini-me totally has her priorities straight. Roller-skate shoes, man!
"My resolution for 2002 is to keep my room clean."
Ah hah.. ah hah... haaaaah...
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Oh hey
College happened and I pretty much forgot about this thing. But now I need it as a public diary-type thing to talk about what I'm thinking about without (hopefully) my parents reading it. And maybe someone will see it and will give me advice or asspats or damn me to hell or something.
So, let's talk about atheism!
Stumble led me to some interesting sites about the topic and I nearly wrote an email to the guy who runs friendlyatheist.com, but I figured I don't have anything to say that he hasn't heard before.
Well, except for this. I've already come out to my family as a lesbian/bisexual/queer/non-straight thing. I'm very loud and opinionated about queer rights and my family knows, accepts and loves that about me.
I'm not sure I'll ever be able to tell my family that I am an atheist/agnostic/non-christian thing. And it's not because I think they'll hate me or won't accept me. I know they will. I just figure my mother has more important things to worry about than my immortal soul. And I pretty much don't have an excuse.
1. I was raised in a white, middle-class christian home. My dad was a pastor when I was growing up. We went to church every Sunday when I was a kid. And then he went into the military. Yeah, not only am I a PK, I'm a Military Brat. Being christian wasn't just the expectation, it was the only option.
2. My dad's proof that you can be christian AND gay, so I can't exactly use that excuse. (By the way, my dad's gay. This was a reason for my parent's divorce, but not the only reason.)
3. Almost all of my friends are christians and many of them are very devout about their beliefs, so I can't claim my peers showed me the heathen light.
How do I explain that I started doubting the religion I'd been born into when I was nine and my dad entered the military, leaving our family with the looming realization that we were going to move far away from everyone we knew? And how, the more I read into the Bible, the more discomfort I felt for it? (Seriously, there's some messed up crap in there. One thing that stuck out in my mind was that if a girl was raped and got pregnant, by God's law, she had to marry her rapist.)
Fortunately, I've been able to get out of going to church by saying that I don't have any friends there and I wouldn't go to the services anyway. Both of those facts are true, of course, but I can't say I'm not relieved that I don't have to go. My mom's accepted that I am an Easter/Christmas church-goer and now that I'm away at college for Easter, I don't even have to hold up the first half of that.
We're not at all a family of Bible-thumpers that refuse to see any logic or reason. I'm sure my mom and dad have all respect for people of different faiths, because they're just cool like that. I bet it'd be a mutual respect let's-not-discuss-it-at-the-dinner-table kinda thing if I did come out as atheist. But I still can't.
If I ever do, I'll let you know how it goes. I suspect my mom will say something along the lines of "I knew all along" because she's like that but you never know.
So, let's talk about atheism!
Stumble led me to some interesting sites about the topic and I nearly wrote an email to the guy who runs friendlyatheist.com, but I figured I don't have anything to say that he hasn't heard before.
Well, except for this. I've already come out to my family as a lesbian/bisexual/queer/non-straight thing. I'm very loud and opinionated about queer rights and my family knows, accepts and loves that about me.
I'm not sure I'll ever be able to tell my family that I am an atheist/agnostic/non-christian thing. And it's not because I think they'll hate me or won't accept me. I know they will. I just figure my mother has more important things to worry about than my immortal soul. And I pretty much don't have an excuse.
1. I was raised in a white, middle-class christian home. My dad was a pastor when I was growing up. We went to church every Sunday when I was a kid. And then he went into the military. Yeah, not only am I a PK, I'm a Military Brat. Being christian wasn't just the expectation, it was the only option.
2. My dad's proof that you can be christian AND gay, so I can't exactly use that excuse. (By the way, my dad's gay. This was a reason for my parent's divorce, but not the only reason.)
3. Almost all of my friends are christians and many of them are very devout about their beliefs, so I can't claim my peers showed me the heathen light.
How do I explain that I started doubting the religion I'd been born into when I was nine and my dad entered the military, leaving our family with the looming realization that we were going to move far away from everyone we knew? And how, the more I read into the Bible, the more discomfort I felt for it? (Seriously, there's some messed up crap in there. One thing that stuck out in my mind was that if a girl was raped and got pregnant, by God's law, she had to marry her rapist.)
Fortunately, I've been able to get out of going to church by saying that I don't have any friends there and I wouldn't go to the services anyway. Both of those facts are true, of course, but I can't say I'm not relieved that I don't have to go. My mom's accepted that I am an Easter/Christmas church-goer and now that I'm away at college for Easter, I don't even have to hold up the first half of that.
We're not at all a family of Bible-thumpers that refuse to see any logic or reason. I'm sure my mom and dad have all respect for people of different faiths, because they're just cool like that. I bet it'd be a mutual respect let's-not-discuss-it-at-the-dinner-table kinda thing if I did come out as atheist. But I still can't.
If I ever do, I'll let you know how it goes. I suspect my mom will say something along the lines of "I knew all along" because she's like that but you never know.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Arrrrrrrrrrrrrgh buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugs
Today's subject? The creepy crawlies running around my house.
That's right. Bugs.
Now, I consider myself an animal person. I like animals. I'm for conservation of the environment. I'm supportive of vegetarians and vegans, and I even was a vegetarian for a whole year. And I'm fine with bugs! As long as they stay out of my house.
But when they're crawling around my room, flying around my bathroom and I can see them while I'm lying on my bed? They're free game. That fly swatter isn't just for show, you little creeps!
And after living in the attic for several years, I am damn good with a fly swatter. Hell, I am a force to be reckoned with!
There's always one bug I can never deal with on my own, though. And that's wasps. Spiders as big as my hand? Okay, I might whimper, but after I get over my perfectly rational fear and find something suitable to squish it with, that thing's as good as dead. Wasps, however? Those send me carefully sneaking out my door and down the stairs so I can beg my step-dad to come and get rid of the nasty wasp.
I can't deal with wasps. They freak me the hell out. I think the world would be a much better place if all wasps just dropped dead! Except for the whole thing where we have to go clean them up so little kids don't step on them barefoot.
Which is a great segue into why I hate them so much in the first place!
You see, around seventh grade I went on a vacation to Canada with my best friend and her family. I know, my first trip out of the country and I didn't even go with my own family. I'm such a great child. Anyway, we stayed at this resort next to a Canada-beach. If you've never been to a Canada-beach, they're a lot like Washington-beaches. Less sand and bikinis, more rocks and hoodies. Luckily it was summer, so even if we couldn't swim, we could run around chasing birds barefoot. Or something. I don't really remember what we were doing.
What I do remember is walking back from a beach excursion, hearing a loud buzzing that sounded like it was right in my ear, then PAIN. Intense pain in my foot! We made it back to the house we were staying in safely, but the damage was done. I'd been stung on the bottom of my foot by a mudwasp. (This diagnosis was made by my friend, who apparently had read a book on wasps or something and recognized the triangle-shape of the sting as a mudwasp, the WORST WASP TO EVER BE STUNG BY.)
And that little bitch hurt! There are not words to describe how much it hurt! It felt like it was on fire, so we put ice on it until it was numb. At that point, I took it off. Within a few minutes, it was fire again. Rinse, repeat.
So for the rest of the vacation, there was less frolicking in the rock-beach, more watching Gundam Seed. All because of that stupid wasp.
And that is why I hate wasps with every fiber of my being. More than mosquitoes, even.
That's right. Bugs.
Now, I consider myself an animal person. I like animals. I'm for conservation of the environment. I'm supportive of vegetarians and vegans, and I even was a vegetarian for a whole year. And I'm fine with bugs! As long as they stay out of my house.
But when they're crawling around my room, flying around my bathroom and I can see them while I'm lying on my bed? They're free game. That fly swatter isn't just for show, you little creeps!
And after living in the attic for several years, I am damn good with a fly swatter. Hell, I am a force to be reckoned with!
There's always one bug I can never deal with on my own, though. And that's wasps. Spiders as big as my hand? Okay, I might whimper, but after I get over my perfectly rational fear and find something suitable to squish it with, that thing's as good as dead. Wasps, however? Those send me carefully sneaking out my door and down the stairs so I can beg my step-dad to come and get rid of the nasty wasp.
I can't deal with wasps. They freak me the hell out. I think the world would be a much better place if all wasps just dropped dead! Except for the whole thing where we have to go clean them up so little kids don't step on them barefoot.
Which is a great segue into why I hate them so much in the first place!
You see, around seventh grade I went on a vacation to Canada with my best friend and her family. I know, my first trip out of the country and I didn't even go with my own family. I'm such a great child. Anyway, we stayed at this resort next to a Canada-beach. If you've never been to a Canada-beach, they're a lot like Washington-beaches. Less sand and bikinis, more rocks and hoodies. Luckily it was summer, so even if we couldn't swim, we could run around chasing birds barefoot. Or something. I don't really remember what we were doing.
What I do remember is walking back from a beach excursion, hearing a loud buzzing that sounded like it was right in my ear, then PAIN. Intense pain in my foot! We made it back to the house we were staying in safely, but the damage was done. I'd been stung on the bottom of my foot by a mudwasp. (This diagnosis was made by my friend, who apparently had read a book on wasps or something and recognized the triangle-shape of the sting as a mudwasp, the WORST WASP TO EVER BE STUNG BY.)
And that little bitch hurt! There are not words to describe how much it hurt! It felt like it was on fire, so we put ice on it until it was numb. At that point, I took it off. Within a few minutes, it was fire again. Rinse, repeat.
So for the rest of the vacation, there was less frolicking in the rock-beach, more watching Gundam Seed. All because of that stupid wasp.
And that is why I hate wasps with every fiber of my being. More than mosquitoes, even.
Whoadang. A blog!
So I decided to step into the mysterious world of blogging. I'm not really sure what it is I'm supposed to write, so... here goes nothing?
Anyway, yeah. Welcome to my blog! There'll probably be a lot of nonsense and talk about roleplaying on this. And I mean the really geeky kind of roleplay that you do online, not the sexy kind you do in a bedroom.
But that would be fun too, I guess. I'd probably be better at it than someone who doesn't roleplay online. So there's that.
You'll also probably get random anecdotes about my life. And life in general.
Alright, let's get this thing started, shall we?
Anyway, yeah. Welcome to my blog! There'll probably be a lot of nonsense and talk about roleplaying on this. And I mean the really geeky kind of roleplay that you do online, not the sexy kind you do in a bedroom.
But that would be fun too, I guess. I'd probably be better at it than someone who doesn't roleplay online. So there's that.
You'll also probably get random anecdotes about my life. And life in general.
Alright, let's get this thing started, shall we?
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