It's that time again--time to update the internet on what I've been doing for the past couple months. Because the internet cares about me. It does, dammit >_<
These are all under cuts because otherwise this would be obscenely long and take up half the FL.
( School )
( Work )
( Miscellaneous )
That's all from me, I guess. Isn't my life fascinating?
These are all under cuts because otherwise this would be obscenely long and take up half the FL.
( School )
( Work )
( Miscellaneous )
That's all from me, I guess. Isn't my life fascinating?
- Location:GCB
- Mood:
lethargic

Created by OnePlusYou - Online Dating Service
*snort*
I'm sorry. This just...made me laugh for some reason.
Apparently, I'm extremely foul mouthed.
*snort*
- Mood:
giggly
Haha, I knew answering "very like me" to all those tomboy questions would give me a result like this. What's really funny, though, is that my next closest match is Tinkerbell, which just doesn't seem to fit with my tomboy image at all. Unless they mean like Julia Roberts in Hook. Then I'm okay with that. In reality, I'm probably the most like Megara, except I'm not that sexy.
You know your self-confidence is suffering when you feel out-classed by an animated character, lol
You know your self-confidence is suffering when you feel out-classed by an animated character, lol
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Find Out Which Disney Girl You Are! created with QuizFarm.com | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| You scored as Mulan A free spirit, a beautiful soul, all things that most people would tag on a lovely girly girl - but you're more boy than anything! Sometimes you're considered a 'nerd' or 'dork', but that just comes with the package - you even embrace your inner nerd. Go you!
|
Meme borrowed from
sam42 because I'm bored as fuck.
• A
Are you available? Depends. What are we doing?
What is your age? 20
Astrology sign? Leo
• B
Do you know anyone named Brian? Yes, actually. He's in my language class--a fellow gaijin.
When is your birthday? August 5th, 1987
Ever been stung by a bee? I don't think so. I have been stung by a wasp, which, I've been told, is a hell of a lot more painful. I don't know about that, but I can tell you that it didn't help assuage my irrational fear of them.
• C
What's your favorite candy? Anything with chocolate.
What color is your car? Red.
• D
Do you daydream? All the time.
What's your favorite kind of dog? The kind that doesn't make me want to punt it across the room for yapping all the time.
• E
Have you ever been in the emergency room? For myself? No, don't think so. Can't think that I've ever been in one period, actually.
Ever pet an elephant? This one threw me, for some reason. I guess the idea of petting an elephant like it's some sort of massive gray house cat was just too bizarre. Anyway, no, I don't think so. Rode one once, at the circus.
Ever swum with sharks? No, but I spent about ten minutes pondering whether or not "swum" was used here in the right context. Looked it up in the dictionary and found out it's the past participle of "swim," which was even less than unhelpful because I can't remember what a past participle is, exactly, and looking it up on google only proved my theory that no one, in fact, knows what a past participle is, in regards to irregular verbs.
• F
Do you use fly swatters? ....When there are flies, yes.
Is there a fan in your room? Yes. And it's always on. I like the sound it makes.
Does the number four have any significance? In English? Not really. But in Japanese (and other Asian languages, too) the word for death and the word for the number four is the same--hence Tetraphobia. Interesting stuff.
• G
Do you chew gum? If it's available, definitely
Do you like gory movies? Sweeney Todd? Yes. Dawn of the Dead? No.
• H
How are you? Tired. And stressed out. What else is new? It's that time of the year.
• I
Have you ever ice skated? Yes.
Ever been to Iowa? Hmmm....no, actually.
• J
Favorite jelly bean? I think I might like all of 'em except for root beer or licorice flavored ones.
Do you wear jewelry? Nope. I'm entirely too good at leaving rings on bathroom sinks, so I don't bother.
• K
Who do you want to kiss? Johnny Depp.
Have you ever flown a kite? Yeah. Last summer, with my sister. It was a blast--we named ours. Mine was Tim, and he was some sort of bird. Phoenix, maybe? Brianna's was a dolphin. It was doomed to failure, poor thing.
Do you think kangaroos are cute? Absolutely.
• L
Are you laid back? On occasion.
Lions or tigers? Bears. (Come on, someone had to do it.)
Do you like black licorice? Does anyone?
• M
Favorite place at the mall? The food court.
Favorite movie? Far too many to choose from.
• N
Do you prefer night or day? If I'm feeling good, it doesn't matter.
Do you have a nickname? Kace. Kinda hard to shorten "Kacey" into something cute. Although my little Japanese host (uh, what, cousins?) call me KeKe.
• O
Are you an only child? Nope, got an older sister.
• P
Do you know anyone named Penelope? Not yet.
• Q
(It was missing a Q, so I made one up)
Wanted to quit halfway through this meme? ;-)
• R
Do you think you're always right? The only people who think that are always wrong.
Do you watch reality tv? I can't think of a faster way to rot your brain.
• S
Do you prefer sun or rain? Sun. I hate being wet. Mostly because I always wear jeans, and wet jeans are unbearably uncomfortable. Also, when it rains, the river next to my apartment smells even stronger of dead fish. However, being indoors on a rainy day is quite nice--just chillin', drinking some tea, maybe watch a movie. Good shit.
Do you like snow? Only when I don't have to forge a path through it to get to class. Or drive through it. *shudder*
• T
Time to go to sleep? Whenever I can convince myself that I've fucked around long enough and really ought to turn in for the night. This is anywhere between 11-2am, currently.
• U
Can you ride a unicycle? No. I can barely ride a bicycle.
• V
Did you ever watch Veggie Tales? NO. Bane of my existence. Remember when I said I couldn't think of anything that would rot your brain faster than reality TV? Well, I just thought of something.
• W
What do you want right now? To go home to America, hug my mom and dad and sister, and eat delicious fajitas at our favorite Mexican restaurant until I explode.
• X
Have you ever had an x-ray? Of my head. For dentistry. Does that count?
• Y
Do you like the color yellow? Got nothing against it.
Do you yell when you're angry? Yes.
• Z
Do you believe in Zodiac signs? Not really, but it's fun when the shit in Cosmo magazines actually comes true in some round-about way.
•Lasts:
Last dream: I've had some really fucked up ones since coming to Japan, but I can't remember any of them. The last dream I had that I can remember was of being back home, sleeping in my bed, and when I woke up I thought I heard my dad singing in the hallway. It was really bittersweet.
Phone call: To my mom, I think.
Last time you cried: Last weekend. I cry a lot, though, so that's not saying much.
Last time you hugged: God, it's sad when you can't remember the last time you hugged a human being. I mean really hugged, not just a casual embrace. Well, welcome to Japan I guess, lol. Anyway, the last time I really, really hugged someone was probably my mother before I got on the plane. After that, probably Val.
Last person you rode in a car with: My host parents and my host father's family on the way back from a road trip.
• A
Are you available? Depends. What are we doing?
What is your age? 20
Astrology sign? Leo
• B
Do you know anyone named Brian? Yes, actually. He's in my language class--a fellow gaijin.
When is your birthday? August 5th, 1987
Ever been stung by a bee? I don't think so. I have been stung by a wasp, which, I've been told, is a hell of a lot more painful. I don't know about that, but I can tell you that it didn't help assuage my irrational fear of them.
• C
What's your favorite candy? Anything with chocolate.
What color is your car? Red.
• D
Do you daydream? All the time.
What's your favorite kind of dog? The kind that doesn't make me want to punt it across the room for yapping all the time.
• E
Have you ever been in the emergency room? For myself? No, don't think so. Can't think that I've ever been in one period, actually.
Ever pet an elephant? This one threw me, for some reason. I guess the idea of petting an elephant like it's some sort of massive gray house cat was just too bizarre. Anyway, no, I don't think so. Rode one once, at the circus.
Ever swum with sharks? No, but I spent about ten minutes pondering whether or not "swum" was used here in the right context. Looked it up in the dictionary and found out it's the past participle of "swim," which was even less than unhelpful because I can't remember what a past participle is, exactly, and looking it up on google only proved my theory that no one, in fact, knows what a past participle is, in regards to irregular verbs.
• F
Do you use fly swatters? ....When there are flies, yes.
Is there a fan in your room? Yes. And it's always on. I like the sound it makes.
Does the number four have any significance? In English? Not really. But in Japanese (and other Asian languages, too) the word for death and the word for the number four is the same--hence Tetraphobia. Interesting stuff.
• G
Do you chew gum? If it's available, definitely
Do you like gory movies? Sweeney Todd? Yes. Dawn of the Dead? No.
• H
How are you? Tired. And stressed out. What else is new? It's that time of the year.
• I
Have you ever ice skated? Yes.
Ever been to Iowa? Hmmm....no, actually.
• J
Favorite jelly bean? I think I might like all of 'em except for root beer or licorice flavored ones.
Do you wear jewelry? Nope. I'm entirely too good at leaving rings on bathroom sinks, so I don't bother.
• K
Who do you want to kiss? Johnny Depp.
Have you ever flown a kite? Yeah. Last summer, with my sister. It was a blast--we named ours. Mine was Tim, and he was some sort of bird. Phoenix, maybe? Brianna's was a dolphin. It was doomed to failure, poor thing.
Do you think kangaroos are cute? Absolutely.
• L
Are you laid back? On occasion.
Lions or tigers? Bears. (Come on, someone had to do it.)
Do you like black licorice? Does anyone?
• M
Favorite place at the mall? The food court.
Favorite movie? Far too many to choose from.
• N
Do you prefer night or day? If I'm feeling good, it doesn't matter.
Do you have a nickname? Kace. Kinda hard to shorten "Kacey" into something cute. Although my little Japanese host (uh, what, cousins?) call me KeKe.
• O
Are you an only child? Nope, got an older sister.
• P
Do you know anyone named Penelope? Not yet.
• Q
(It was missing a Q, so I made one up)
Wanted to quit halfway through this meme? ;-)
• R
Do you think you're always right? The only people who think that are always wrong.
Do you watch reality tv? I can't think of a faster way to rot your brain.
• S
Do you prefer sun or rain? Sun. I hate being wet. Mostly because I always wear jeans, and wet jeans are unbearably uncomfortable. Also, when it rains, the river next to my apartment smells even stronger of dead fish. However, being indoors on a rainy day is quite nice--just chillin', drinking some tea, maybe watch a movie. Good shit.
Do you like snow? Only when I don't have to forge a path through it to get to class. Or drive through it. *shudder*
• T
Time to go to sleep? Whenever I can convince myself that I've fucked around long enough and really ought to turn in for the night. This is anywhere between 11-2am, currently.
• U
Can you ride a unicycle? No. I can barely ride a bicycle.
• V
Did you ever watch Veggie Tales? NO. Bane of my existence. Remember when I said I couldn't think of anything that would rot your brain faster than reality TV? Well, I just thought of something.
• W
What do you want right now? To go home to America, hug my mom and dad and sister, and eat delicious fajitas at our favorite Mexican restaurant until I explode.
• X
Have you ever had an x-ray? Of my head. For dentistry. Does that count?
• Y
Do you like the color yellow? Got nothing against it.
Do you yell when you're angry? Yes.
• Z
Do you believe in Zodiac signs? Not really, but it's fun when the shit in Cosmo magazines actually comes true in some round-about way.
•Lasts:
Last dream: I've had some really fucked up ones since coming to Japan, but I can't remember any of them. The last dream I had that I can remember was of being back home, sleeping in my bed, and when I woke up I thought I heard my dad singing in the hallway. It was really bittersweet.
Phone call: To my mom, I think.
Last time you cried: Last weekend. I cry a lot, though, so that's not saying much.
Last time you hugged: God, it's sad when you can't remember the last time you hugged a human being. I mean really hugged, not just a casual embrace. Well, welcome to Japan I guess, lol. Anyway, the last time I really, really hugged someone was probably my mother before I got on the plane. After that, probably Val.
Last person you rode in a car with: My host parents and my host father's family on the way back from a road trip.
I don't want to come home. I really don't. This place is really amazing and I've met some really awesome people. Though it's probably too early to say, I think I'm getting a little bit better at the language, and even if I can't really speak it very well at least I can understand most of what my teachers are saying to me. Plus, this city is pretty fucking awesome. In Sakae there's Nova and Louis Vatan and Gucci, and Outback Steakhouse and gambling centers the size of some city parks--and yet, right outside my balcony there's an absolutely beautiful garden and somewhere in Nagoya there's a castle that's probably centuries and centuries old.
It's an amazing place, it really is. I'm not ready to give up yet.
But you know what I really want?
I want my family. I miss them so much. Every day I think about them, and I catch myself daydreaming, sometimes, about the day when I can hug my mom again. Every sound, every sight, every little thing triggers a memory. Even the happy ones make me cry. When John Denver makes you bawl like a little girl, you know you've got problems. (But I've always cried at Country Roads, haven't I?)
I want my friends who speak English, I want classes I can blow off, I want toilets with only one button, thank you, and no, I don't want to eat any more rice cakes, they're disgusting. Saying it slower and louder will not make me suddenly comprehend what the fuck you're saying, and Jesus Christ, when you see a lonely little foreign girl crying her eyes out, could you give the poor thing a hug? I haven't got cooties and touching me won't make you any less Asian, I promise. I want to get online and write with Meg, and I want to be able to call home whenever I want without having to worry about what ungodly hour of the morning it is there. I want my mommy.
And I hate to say it, but...
Dammit, I really want a Wal-Mart.
It's an amazing place, it really is. I'm not ready to give up yet.
But you know what I really want?
I want my family. I miss them so much. Every day I think about them, and I catch myself daydreaming, sometimes, about the day when I can hug my mom again. Every sound, every sight, every little thing triggers a memory. Even the happy ones make me cry. When John Denver makes you bawl like a little girl, you know you've got problems. (But I've always cried at Country Roads, haven't I?)
I want my friends who speak English, I want classes I can blow off, I want toilets with only one button, thank you, and no, I don't want to eat any more rice cakes, they're disgusting. Saying it slower and louder will not make me suddenly comprehend what the fuck you're saying, and Jesus Christ, when you see a lonely little foreign girl crying her eyes out, could you give the poor thing a hug? I haven't got cooties and touching me won't make you any less Asian, I promise. I want to get online and write with Meg, and I want to be able to call home whenever I want without having to worry about what ungodly hour of the morning it is there. I want my mommy.
And I hate to say it, but...
Dammit, I really want a Wal-Mart.
- Mood:
melancholy
- Mood:
lonely
So I promised a friend of mine that I would update my livejournal periodically to keep everyone up to speed with what's happening with the Japan Saga, and since I have internet here for possibly the last time, at least for a few weeks, that's what I'm doing.
Day One, The Flight(s)
The shit that happened to me today would make for a really good movie. You know, the kind where the protagonist gets dumped on pretty much at every corner and we all laugh, because, hey, it didn't happen to us, right? It's not as funny when you're the one getting the shaft, believe you me.
Let me just outline how the whole thing was SUPPOSED to go off.
Get up at three in the morning. Drive from my Aunt's house to the Lambert International Airport in St. Louis. Catch the 6:10 and fly out to Denver. Catch a transfer flight at 8:20 to San Francisco. Take the 10:08 flight from San Fran to Centrair in Nagoya. Simple. Clean. And apparently, WAY too easy.
Here's how the whole thing really went.
Flight from Lambert went off without a hitch. In fact, it was almost the one thing that didn't cause a huge amount of problems--and I say almost because I was so broken up about leaving my family behind that I cried nearly the whole way. Seriously, the moment the plane took off, I was weeping like a small child. I totally couldn't help it. Every time I tried to take my mind off of it, I thought of something that reminded me of my mom or dad or sister (e.g., "Wow, the city lights really are pretty from way up here. Mom would love it...." *WEEP WEEP WEEP*)
But I calmed eventually and me and Val were well on our way into the first leg of our journey. Everything seemed to be going fine. The flight was good and the flight attendant reminded me of Michael Jackson (his voice being part of the reason I finally got my tears under control), and we landed in Denver without any problems.
However, I gotta say, as far as first impressions go, I was not impressed by the place. For starters, we ended up disembarking straight onto the tarmac, which was a little nerve racking and uncomfortable because it was 22 degrees and I only had a T-shirt and coat (poor Val was in a dress). After getting inside, I thought my troubles were over. All we had to do was get to the proper terminal/gate combo and we could be on our way.
Well, we get there and the first thing we discover is that they've overbooked our plane. In fact, they haven't just overbooked it, they've given away our seats--which we booked in fucking October. But hey, it happens, so Val and I tried to stay calm and positive about the whole thing (not knowing that this was only the start of a very long list of set backs), and about thirty minutes later we get our seats on flight 869 and all seemed well with the world again.
Then they discover a maintenance problem with the plane that apparently went unnoticed by captain and crew all day long, rendering the plane unserviceable. Remember that, folks. UNSERVICEABLE. As in, will not be flying out again today at the risk of the whole thing catching fire and becoming a giant airborne bomb. So we all get off. All 100+ people, most of us completely fucked now because the delays have messed up our transfer times, me and Val included. And instead of the flight attendant giving us solid, concrete directions regarding what to do next, she pulls a few really weak options right out of her ass and expects us all to just fend for ourselves. Of course, the Customer Service line is absolutely ridiculous, not to mentioned staffed by people who either a) had no idea what they were talking about or b) didn't speak enough English to make their directions understood. Seeking out an alternative option, Val and I hunted down the next flight to San Francisco, which was supposed to be at 10:30 or some such time, but IT got delayed till 11:45. Now, by this time Val and I have missed our San Fran transfer to Nagoya anyway, so we just decide to see if we can reschedule for this time instead. While we're waiting in line to see whether or not this can be achieved, the attendant CLOSES HER FUCKING STATION and tells us all to go back to Customer Service.
Oh. It gets better.
So. In line to Customer Service, we the intercom clicks on and we here the following announcement: "This is the last boarding call for those with boarding passes for flight 869 to San Francisco. Attention, last call for flight 869 at this time."
If you recall, flight 869 is the flight we were originally on when they discovered the maintenance problem that would turn the whole plane into a massive ball of fire. And without bothering to tell ANYONE, the shits decided to rustle up a different plane and continue with the same flight as planned (although now about and hour and a half behind schedule). Still, it's scheduled to leave at about 10:30, which is sooner than anything else we'd found, so me and Val literally sprint down the concourse, trying to get back to our original gate in time.
Big sigh of relief, we make it and board this new plane. We store our carry ons, sit, and prepare to take off.
It is at this point that the captain comes over the PA system and says, "Uh, ladies and gentlemen, we are experience a few mechanical errors with this plane as well. We're getting a mechanic to check up on it right now, just sit tight."
And sit we did.
FOR FORTY. FIVE. FUCKING. MINUTES.
After that, we're on our way to San Fran. It's about 11:15 by this point, nearly an hour after our transfer in San Fran has left and almost THREE WHOLE HOURS since we were scheduled to depart from Denver.
If you think our troubles ended in San Fran, you're dead wrong. Oh no, the universe continued to fuck us straight up the ass for the rest of the night. Let me tell you how.
First, every customer service agent we encountered was a huge ass and really unhelpful to boot. When we finally got to the international terminal, we wandered around trying to find the right United booth to reassign our boarding passes before being told to stand in line at counter one. By this point, we are so dead tired it's getting hard to be upset anymore, so we just go with it.
We're in that line for almost three hours. I slept through some of it. Val played on her DS. We were a miserable sight, to be sure, especially since I had a momentary lapse in my exhausted state of zen and started crying all over again. At about 5pm Pacific time, we get our new boarding passes, which dictate that we'll be flying out of San Fran tomorrow at eleven, arriving in Tokyo at 7, and in Nagoya by 8. I feel these next couple of flights have to go well, because we've already hit rock fucking bottom. To compensate for our trouble, the airline gave us a voucher for a hotel--a nice sentiment, but I think I would have much rather had someone's head on a pike. But we accept the voucher gratefully and are SO looking forward to a nice hot shower, some dinner, and our well deserved rest.
But the universe gets in one more shot at us by delaying the hotel shuttle by about an hour, leaving us sitting out in the FREEZING COLD RAIN (which baffled me considering we were in fucking California and not two days ago it was 70 degrees in the midwest).
Which brings me up to where I am now--slightly less grumpy, well fed, and still waiting on that nice, hot shower. Tomorrow will bring an eleven+ hour flight, but honestly I feel like I can take on anything now. Everything that could have gone wrong, did. Thanks, Murphy.
Hopefully my next installment (whenever that may be), won't be as much as a bitchfest and more of a delighted account of my life in a new world.
G'night, moon. Beautiful, beautiful sleep.
Day One, The Flight(s)
The shit that happened to me today would make for a really good movie. You know, the kind where the protagonist gets dumped on pretty much at every corner and we all laugh, because, hey, it didn't happen to us, right? It's not as funny when you're the one getting the shaft, believe you me.
Let me just outline how the whole thing was SUPPOSED to go off.
Get up at three in the morning. Drive from my Aunt's house to the Lambert International Airport in St. Louis. Catch the 6:10 and fly out to Denver. Catch a transfer flight at 8:20 to San Francisco. Take the 10:08 flight from San Fran to Centrair in Nagoya. Simple. Clean. And apparently, WAY too easy.
Here's how the whole thing really went.
Flight from Lambert went off without a hitch. In fact, it was almost the one thing that didn't cause a huge amount of problems--and I say almost because I was so broken up about leaving my family behind that I cried nearly the whole way. Seriously, the moment the plane took off, I was weeping like a small child. I totally couldn't help it. Every time I tried to take my mind off of it, I thought of something that reminded me of my mom or dad or sister (e.g., "Wow, the city lights really are pretty from way up here. Mom would love it...." *WEEP WEEP WEEP*)
But I calmed eventually and me and Val were well on our way into the first leg of our journey. Everything seemed to be going fine. The flight was good and the flight attendant reminded me of Michael Jackson (his voice being part of the reason I finally got my tears under control), and we landed in Denver without any problems.
However, I gotta say, as far as first impressions go, I was not impressed by the place. For starters, we ended up disembarking straight onto the tarmac, which was a little nerve racking and uncomfortable because it was 22 degrees and I only had a T-shirt and coat (poor Val was in a dress). After getting inside, I thought my troubles were over. All we had to do was get to the proper terminal/gate combo and we could be on our way.
Well, we get there and the first thing we discover is that they've overbooked our plane. In fact, they haven't just overbooked it, they've given away our seats--which we booked in fucking October. But hey, it happens, so Val and I tried to stay calm and positive about the whole thing (not knowing that this was only the start of a very long list of set backs), and about thirty minutes later we get our seats on flight 869 and all seemed well with the world again.
Then they discover a maintenance problem with the plane that apparently went unnoticed by captain and crew all day long, rendering the plane unserviceable. Remember that, folks. UNSERVICEABLE. As in, will not be flying out again today at the risk of the whole thing catching fire and becoming a giant airborne bomb. So we all get off. All 100+ people, most of us completely fucked now because the delays have messed up our transfer times, me and Val included. And instead of the flight attendant giving us solid, concrete directions regarding what to do next, she pulls a few really weak options right out of her ass and expects us all to just fend for ourselves. Of course, the Customer Service line is absolutely ridiculous, not to mentioned staffed by people who either a) had no idea what they were talking about or b) didn't speak enough English to make their directions understood. Seeking out an alternative option, Val and I hunted down the next flight to San Francisco, which was supposed to be at 10:30 or some such time, but IT got delayed till 11:45. Now, by this time Val and I have missed our San Fran transfer to Nagoya anyway, so we just decide to see if we can reschedule for this time instead. While we're waiting in line to see whether or not this can be achieved, the attendant CLOSES HER FUCKING STATION and tells us all to go back to Customer Service.
Oh. It gets better.
So. In line to Customer Service, we the intercom clicks on and we here the following announcement: "This is the last boarding call for those with boarding passes for flight 869 to San Francisco. Attention, last call for flight 869 at this time."
If you recall, flight 869 is the flight we were originally on when they discovered the maintenance problem that would turn the whole plane into a massive ball of fire. And without bothering to tell ANYONE, the shits decided to rustle up a different plane and continue with the same flight as planned (although now about and hour and a half behind schedule). Still, it's scheduled to leave at about 10:30, which is sooner than anything else we'd found, so me and Val literally sprint down the concourse, trying to get back to our original gate in time.
Big sigh of relief, we make it and board this new plane. We store our carry ons, sit, and prepare to take off.
It is at this point that the captain comes over the PA system and says, "Uh, ladies and gentlemen, we are experience a few mechanical errors with this plane as well. We're getting a mechanic to check up on it right now, just sit tight."
And sit we did.
FOR FORTY. FIVE. FUCKING. MINUTES.
After that, we're on our way to San Fran. It's about 11:15 by this point, nearly an hour after our transfer in San Fran has left and almost THREE WHOLE HOURS since we were scheduled to depart from Denver.
If you think our troubles ended in San Fran, you're dead wrong. Oh no, the universe continued to fuck us straight up the ass for the rest of the night. Let me tell you how.
First, every customer service agent we encountered was a huge ass and really unhelpful to boot. When we finally got to the international terminal, we wandered around trying to find the right United booth to reassign our boarding passes before being told to stand in line at counter one. By this point, we are so dead tired it's getting hard to be upset anymore, so we just go with it.
We're in that line for almost three hours. I slept through some of it. Val played on her DS. We were a miserable sight, to be sure, especially since I had a momentary lapse in my exhausted state of zen and started crying all over again. At about 5pm Pacific time, we get our new boarding passes, which dictate that we'll be flying out of San Fran tomorrow at eleven, arriving in Tokyo at 7, and in Nagoya by 8. I feel these next couple of flights have to go well, because we've already hit rock fucking bottom. To compensate for our trouble, the airline gave us a voucher for a hotel--a nice sentiment, but I think I would have much rather had someone's head on a pike. But we accept the voucher gratefully and are SO looking forward to a nice hot shower, some dinner, and our well deserved rest.
But the universe gets in one more shot at us by delaying the hotel shuttle by about an hour, leaving us sitting out in the FREEZING COLD RAIN (which baffled me considering we were in fucking California and not two days ago it was 70 degrees in the midwest).
Which brings me up to where I am now--slightly less grumpy, well fed, and still waiting on that nice, hot shower. Tomorrow will bring an eleven+ hour flight, but honestly I feel like I can take on anything now. Everything that could have gone wrong, did. Thanks, Murphy.
Hopefully my next installment (whenever that may be), won't be as much as a bitchfest and more of a delighted account of my life in a new world.
G'night, moon. Beautiful, beautiful sleep.
- Mood:
drained
This just in---
The well-known trilogy, the Lord of the Rings, was written by *GASPU* a CHRISTIAN. J.R.R. Tolkien, fantastic writer that he is, was a devout follower of the Christian faith, and makes several references to God and Jesus-like figures throughout his novels. The movies by Peter Jackson have heaps of concealed messages about Christianity, so I advise any self respecting atheist or agnostic out there to avoid these movies at all costs! DO NOT, for any reason, take your children or anyone else's children to see these movies, because it may lead them to read the books and thereafter become Christian. As we all know, children are intelligent and perceptive enough to read between the lines and pick up the theological "subtleties" that are sprinkled throughout novels and stories. They never read for enjoyment, for the purely fantastical element through which they might escape every day life. No, they are forever seeking out the "deeper meaning." Why, I remember when I was five years old--I could pinpoint difficult subtexts and profound revelations in my sleep! Oh the humanity! Will someone PLEASE THINK OF THE CHILDREN???!!!!
Also, do not encourage your children or any children you may know to read the Chronicles of Narnia. Along the same vein, you probably shouldn't let them read anything by Lewis Carrol, because he was a child molester and did opium frequently. Say good-bye to Grimm's fairy tales, because they may make your child morbid and violent. Yes, that includes Disney as well. Oh, and definitely forbid any children from listening to the Beatles! It is a well known fact that they were all on acid, for goodness sake!
So in conclusion, if you don't want your children growing up to be deranged, drugged up, mordant rapists, don't let them read any classic children's literature. Or watch any movies based on classic children's literature. Fill their brains with YOUR ideas and philosophies before they're old enough to be their own person, and they'll be safe from any outside influences. They'll thank you one day, I'm sure.
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(SARCASM)
The well-known trilogy, the Lord of the Rings, was written by *GASPU* a CHRISTIAN. J.R.R. Tolkien, fantastic writer that he is, was a devout follower of the Christian faith, and makes several references to God and Jesus-like figures throughout his novels. The movies by Peter Jackson have heaps of concealed messages about Christianity, so I advise any self respecting atheist or agnostic out there to avoid these movies at all costs! DO NOT, for any reason, take your children or anyone else's children to see these movies, because it may lead them to read the books and thereafter become Christian. As we all know, children are intelligent and perceptive enough to read between the lines and pick up the theological "subtleties" that are sprinkled throughout novels and stories. They never read for enjoyment, for the purely fantastical element through which they might escape every day life. No, they are forever seeking out the "deeper meaning." Why, I remember when I was five years old--I could pinpoint difficult subtexts and profound revelations in my sleep! Oh the humanity! Will someone PLEASE THINK OF THE CHILDREN???!!!!
Also, do not encourage your children or any children you may know to read the Chronicles of Narnia. Along the same vein, you probably shouldn't let them read anything by Lewis Carrol, because he was a child molester and did opium frequently. Say good-bye to Grimm's fairy tales, because they may make your child morbid and violent. Yes, that includes Disney as well. Oh, and definitely forbid any children from listening to the Beatles! It is a well known fact that they were all on acid, for goodness sake!
So in conclusion, if you don't want your children growing up to be deranged, drugged up, mordant rapists, don't let them read any classic children's literature. Or watch any movies based on classic children's literature. Fill their brains with YOUR ideas and philosophies before they're old enough to be their own person, and they'll be safe from any outside influences. They'll thank you one day, I'm sure.
....
.........
............
(SARCASM)
- Mood:
infuriated
So...last week I had to write a proposal over a paper I'd given absolutely no thought to aaaand I managed to get a good grade on it (even though I wrote it at 1:30 in the morning with all the brain function of a goldfish). Not only did I managed to get a good grade on it, my teacher positively gushed over how good of an idea it was. This is somewhat comforting, considering my task for this week (i.e., tomorrow) is to write an annotated bibliography for said paper--which, btw, still hasn't even been a blip on my "OMG FREAK OUT ABOUT THIS" radar. It's been a constant buzzing in the back of my head for about two weeks now, but since I'm more preoccupied with getting all my study abroad stuff turned in before the deadline, I said "shit on English, it can die in a fire" haven't given it much thought.
So basically it all boils down to this: tonight I have to read at least two articles on Howells' portrayal of women, give the text legitimate consideration, think about what the fuck I want my paper to be about, and write down what ideas I'm going to use/cite from the articles I read. I will probably end up doing this at about 2 o'clock this morning, and I will probably end up getting a passing grade on it.
LOL, college, LOL.
In other news, NaNo started today. This will be the only mention I make of it here in mah journal, as I'm sure no one wants to read YET ANOTHER bitch fest about NaNo. So. Here it is. Another year of writing a novel in one month when I literally don't even have time to eat. Sometimes I ask myself, "What the fuck am I doing?" but since I know I probably won't finish anyway, my expectations aren't very high. I do it every year. I skip a night and think, "It'll be okay, I'll make it up tomorrow...." *shifty eyes* I IS NOT A PROCRASTINATOR
Went to the kickoff part and met a guy dressed up like the Doctor. Had a small and somewhat guilty fangirl-gasm. Would have raped him had he not liked teh penis.
Also, BALLS. (Yes, balls.)
Also also, found out today that I am blood type A positive, which means I would have been controlled by the Sycorax and therefore would not have been able to take advantage care of the Doctor whilst he was incapacitated.
*sigh* Story of my life.
On a completely unrelated note: it is getting really freakin' cold outside. When is it appropriate to turn on the heater? I grew up in a household in which if we couldn't see our own breath while eating breakfast, the heater wasn't neccessary (read: cheap parents). When is prime heater operation time?
Oh, it is also No-Shave-November. I am participating, mostly because I am lazy and wouldn't shave anyway (unless of course I get waylaid by a formal event in which case I would have to because I have no dress pants).
Enjoy your icy mornings, mid-west America.
So basically it all boils down to this: tonight I have to read at least two articles on Howells' portrayal of women, give the text legitimate consideration, think about what the fuck I want my paper to be about, and write down what ideas I'm going to use/cite from the articles I read. I will probably end up doing this at about 2 o'clock this morning, and I will probably end up getting a passing grade on it.
LOL, college, LOL.
In other news, NaNo started today. This will be the only mention I make of it here in mah journal, as I'm sure no one wants to read YET ANOTHER bitch fest about NaNo. So. Here it is. Another year of writing a novel in one month when I literally don't even have time to eat. Sometimes I ask myself, "What the fuck am I doing?" but since I know I probably won't finish anyway, my expectations aren't very high. I do it every year. I skip a night and think, "It'll be okay, I'll make it up tomorrow...." *shifty eyes*
Went to the kickoff part and met a guy dressed up like the Doctor. Had a small and somewhat guilty fangirl-gasm. Would have raped him had he not liked teh penis.
Also, BALLS. (Yes, balls.)
Also also, found out today that I am blood type A positive, which means I would have been controlled by the Sycorax and therefore would not have been able to take
*sigh* Story of my life.
On a completely unrelated note: it is getting really freakin' cold outside. When is it appropriate to turn on the heater? I grew up in a household in which if we couldn't see our own breath while eating breakfast, the heater wasn't neccessary (read: cheap parents). When is prime heater operation time?
Oh, it is also No-Shave-November. I am participating, mostly because I am lazy and wouldn't shave anyway (unless of course I get waylaid by a formal event in which case I would have to because I have no dress pants).
Enjoy your icy mornings, mid-west America.
- Mood:
cold
I just have one thing to say.
I hate English (the major, not the language).
Thank you.
G'night moon.
I hate English (the major, not the language).
Thank you.
G'night moon.
- Mood:
annoyed
So Ren Fest was pretty much awesome, as usual. Meg and I were in agreement that it was easily our most put together year. I won't even try to deny it: we were smoking hot, the two of us. I love my gypsy costume--major props to my mom for making it. It's such a master piece. I'll probably end up wearing it next year, too. Meg's outfit was equally spectacular, especially that corset she bought. Nevermind the small matter that she could barely breath and she was basically eating her breasts--it really completed the ensemble. And then there was me, with my fatty-chan body squeezed into a vest roughly a size and half too small. I encountered similar breathing problems (to the point of nausea, on occasion), but DAMN--I looked good. Never had hips before. This must be how properly proportioned women feel. Incidentally, I think I undertand pre-revolutionary French women a tad better...
And now I know that Elizabeth Swann wasn't just being a whiny bitch. Or a complete pansy. Because I really almost did pass out at one point, and that is only a slight exaggeration. Seriously. NEVER wear clothes that are a size and half too small if you're planning to prance around in 90 degree heat and oxygen-zapping humidity. If you're having a hard enough time breathing as it is, it is NOT a good plan to frolick about in a climate that is basically equavilant to sucking in a cloud through a straw. Again, only a slight exaggeration, but I swear, October is not supposed to be that hot. Meg and I have to be cursed. If it isn't raining, it's a sauna. And if it rains, it pours.
Also, it is hard to flirt with cute boys when you're all too aware that your hair can substitute as a poodle. Or three poodles. Or three poodles who have just simultaneously struck by lightning.
Despite all that, I had a fantastic time, and I can't wait to go back. Apparently my frazzled poodle look was working for me, because Meg and I got photographed no less than three times...but then again, that could have had something to do with Meg's breastiness and my impossible waist. I wish I had pictures. Le sigh.
And now Val and I are going to watch some Doctor Who so that I might put off some homework I should've done last week. This is what David Tennant does to me--I turn willingly from a life of studious academia to slip into the role of a crazy, bad-fic writing fan girl. Or slip further, if you will.
Good-night, moon.
And now I know that Elizabeth Swann wasn't just being a whiny bitch. Or a complete pansy. Because I really almost did pass out at one point, and that is only a slight exaggeration. Seriously. NEVER wear clothes that are a size and half too small if you're planning to prance around in 90 degree heat and oxygen-zapping humidity. If you're having a hard enough time breathing as it is, it is NOT a good plan to frolick about in a climate that is basically equavilant to sucking in a cloud through a straw. Again, only a slight exaggeration, but I swear, October is not supposed to be that hot. Meg and I have to be cursed. If it isn't raining, it's a sauna. And if it rains, it pours.
Also, it is hard to flirt with cute boys when you're all too aware that your hair can substitute as a poodle. Or three poodles. Or three poodles who have just simultaneously struck by lightning.
Despite all that, I had a fantastic time, and I can't wait to go back. Apparently my frazzled poodle look was working for me, because Meg and I got photographed no less than three times...but then again, that could have had something to do with Meg's breastiness and my impossible waist. I wish I had pictures. Le sigh.
And now Val and I are going to watch some Doctor Who so that I might put off some homework I should've done last week. This is what David Tennant does to me--I turn willingly from a life of studious academia to slip into the role of a crazy, bad-fic writing fan girl. Or slip further, if you will.
Good-night, moon.
- Mood:
mellow
I'm in a hotel in Overland Park, Kansas with my best friend, Meg, getting ready to watch a few more episodes of Doctor Who (David Tennant, of course) before hitting the hay. Tomorrow--a day of Renaissance-y fun! I'm going as a gypsy again this year, mainly because my costume gives me UBER-hips and an itty-bitty waist, a phenomena I've yet to experience naturally. Le sigh. You can always blame DNA--and I do. No accounting for genetics, damn them.
I've been so busy lately (UNDERSTATEMENT). Between getting all my stuff ready to study abroad and making sure I don't fail any of my current classes, I'm surprised I've found the time to touch my computer at all. *snort* Right. Well, that's a mild lie. Master procrastinator and everything. When I fail my geology class I'll know why--and I'll blame A Teaspoon and an Open Mind, the Doctor Who fanfiction archive, otherwise known as the vehicle for my decent into Lame Land.
I wish I could say I've been so busy I haven't even been able to find the time to eat...
Kay, Doctor timez now. Good-night moon.
I've been so busy lately (UNDERSTATEMENT). Between getting all my stuff ready to study abroad and making sure I don't fail any of my current classes, I'm surprised I've found the time to touch my computer at all. *snort* Right. Well, that's a mild lie. Master procrastinator and everything. When I fail my geology class I'll know why--and I'll blame A Teaspoon and an Open Mind, the Doctor Who fanfiction archive, otherwise known as the vehicle for my decent into Lame Land.
I wish I could say I've been so busy I haven't even been able to find the time to eat...
Kay, Doctor timez now. Good-night moon.
- Mood:
geeky


