karatetentacles

Hey kiddos. This has been a helluva ride, no? BEDA = awesome. Thanks, Maureen!

I have my first ever real-big-kid-stuff job interview tonight.

I feel pretty sick, so I'm gonna take a shower and have a little siesta to be prepared for my job-zilla interview.

Something of interest: Today in English (we're reading One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest for those who aren't in the know), P-Nelli was talking about David Thoreau. The guy is a transcendentalist, which basically means he, and other transcendentalists, wanted to be "different." His most famous work is Walden, published in 1854.

History of Walden:
Thoreau decided one day that he was sick of material goods and the material world. So he went out into the woods, built himself a cabin, and lived there for a year, making a journal about how life was different then than it was in the "real world."

I haven't read it, but there's an allusion to it Cuckoo, so we just discussed it for a while. About how people are "individuals," and how we work in this "system" of life, which Kesey (author of Cuckoo) calls the Combine. P-Nelli asked us why we sat in school all day, if we were such "individuals," and why we fell into our roles in the Combine. We talked about how people, including ourselves, were afraid of academic/disciplinary consequences, how we were scared of what our parents would say if we just walked out of class one day and stopped going to school. And then a funny thing happened.

Pulsinelli walks over to the door, opens it, and says "If you walk out right now, I will not write you up. I swear."

No one moved. There was just a silence over the room. I didn't get up, oh gosh no. But why? Would you, reader, have gotten up?

God, everyone should read this book. It's incredible. Will probably finish it tonight or tomorrow night. Let me know if you read it in class. Please?

BEDA 30: PWNED.
BEDA: PWNED.

okay I love you bye bye!

Eff eff eff I can't find my Cuckoo's Nest journal. My pristine, awesomesauce, hours-spent Cuckoo's Nest journal. D: D: D:

I stupidly let a "friend" borrow it since she was all "I don't really get what to put," and I was like "Fuck, I really don't want you to copy this, but I'll look like a jerk if I don't give it to you, but you make me feel bad about myself a lot, so whatever. Here." Ugh such a big mistake. She gave it to me earlier today, but now I can't find it!! I'm not blaming her, I'm just mad at myself. This is why peer pressure is so stupid... and why my life is so sad.

I just finished reading the book (it's really good) but now I can't do the stupid assignment (that I actually kind of enjoy doing). Ughhhh.

Also, I'm wearing my headphones. On either head phone (...?) there is either an R or an L, signifying... you know, right or left. I think it's more comfortable to wear the L on my right ear and the R on my left. REBEL I KNOW RIGHT.

Today it rained. Everyone is either like "OMG I LOVE RAIN" or "OMG I HATE IT," but I really don't care either way. I hate being wet, though. I hate getting out of showers, so usually (this is gross) I tend to not take a shower for as long as possible (although I usually only last two days, maybe three tops, but still). I just hate being wet, because it gets everything else wet, and then things have to dry...

Reminding me of Writer's Workshop, in which Ms. Beachy read us sentences sent in as "Worst First-Sentences for Novels" for some contest... thing. One of my favorites:

Her name was Mauve, like the color of paint, which was apt: not only was she "pretty as a painting," she was also "smart as paint," and certainly as thin (assuming sufficient solvents had been added); she was, however, Arnold discovered when she stepped from the shower, a lot more fun to watch dry.

Steven W Alloway
Granada Hills, CA
for more...

The year is finally winding down. I'll have a decent grade card for the first time in a long while. (By "decent," I mean no C's.) Also, BEDA is ending. This is my, and every other participant's, penultimate post. It's sad. But it's a good pre-NaNo exercise. I need the sort of writing-every-day activity, just to get pumped for it. So expect a possible second BEDA... only this time it's Blog Every Day AUGUST! 0:

BEDA 29: pwned. <3 you all.

Sigh. I promise I had a really good idea for a blog, and that I filed it in my blog folder., but I think it got corrupted or something. Because now I don't remember it.

Speaking of Kristina (if you clicked the links...), I think I kind of love her. I mean, I loved her before. But through BEDA, and through Mrs. Nerimon, through this new CD she did with Luke Conard (with whom I'm in love), and through the Parselmouths thing... I dunno, I think my love for her just tripled in the past month.

I already ordered ALL CAPS!, which is Luke and Kristina's CD. I'm soooo excited for it to come. I'm listening to the tracks on the MySpace (linked) and LOVE IT SO MUCH. It's a damn good thing I'll probably get a job at Cinemark this summer... I keep buying things online. Damn debit card...

But yeah, I have an interview Thursday night at 8... right during the Office, but whatevs, I'll live until I get back and can watch it. It was going to be Wednesday, but I have the Five Minute Film Festival to attend! It should be pretty fun -- I hope most people remember it, since we won't have our usual Wednesday-morning meeting due to a late start. Ugh: I totally don't get to utilize my sleep-in time due to my lack of doing-math-homework skills. ):

Whatever. Gonna finish my paper application, read Cuckoo tonight since I won't have a lot of time Wednesday night (because of the Film Fest), and study a little more for my test tomorrow. A'ight cool love you all bye!!

Screw it, I'm not going to post any more blogs on MJ's ning. I prefer Blogger layout, Blogger blog-posting box, and Blogger Bloggerness.

Yawn. Super tired. Need to read a little bit more of Cuckoo's, should only take two-ish hours. Yes, that's a short amount of time for this assignment. Sigh.

God I just want to go to college and screw all of this. School's almost done for summer. There's really nothing interesting for me to say at all. Gotta keep going on BEDA.

Code Java ttx.

oh my gosh, Chuck was HORRIFYING. spoilers, watch out!!

Episode one: Chuck gets all the government secrets in his brain. Called "The Intersect."
Last episode: Chuck gets the Intersect out of his brain.
This episdoe: Chuck gets the Intersect back INTO his brain, only NOW he knows KUNG FOO. It was RIDONK! I was literally rolling on the floor laughing my ass off. SOO BAD. And I've been a loyal Chuck fan, don't get me wrong. But... why would they do that? I don't understand. At all. Seriously? It was SO BAD. SO BAD. SO BAD.

Ugh. Talk of canceling... it almost seemed like they were screaming "CANCEL US!" tonight. So sad.

A'ight that's a blog right? BEDA out.

I have nothing interesting to say whatsoever.

Uhhh.

I really like Crystal Light Peach Tea.
I really hate that Legally Blonde is coming to Kansas City specifically when I will be in Denver, CO. On exactly the same days. Yeah that just really upsets me.

Weird how a stomach virus can be confused with 80 degree weather, allergies, and womanly symptoms. I want it to be appendicitis. I want all my diseases to be appendicitis. It's true. Every time I get a cramp, I pray for appendicitis.

Also: I fail at precalc. I don't understand how I'm in advanced math. I'm rather subpar. Mostly because I don't do my homework. But today I actually tried to do my homework and failed miserably, even though I paid attention in class. I spent more than thirty minutes on the first problem alone. I asked a classmate for help. I consulted the internet. I read the book and my notes a thousand times over. I don't understand it. I don't understand why I don't understand it. Damn logic.

Kay whatever this is done.

so I didn't do BEDA yesterday... shhh don't tell anyone please.

I'll do a make-up blog the first day in May? I had kind of a bad/busy/obnoxious day yesterday. My house is 82 degrees, which explains high stress, etc. Plus allergies. *sniffles* I still don't feel 100%, but I have to go to my friend's birthday party tonight... I'll probably cut out early though. Make my appearance, then leave before I feel awkward and need to go cry in a bathroom because I'm depressingly lonely on the inside.

Oh, hey Angst. How are you?
S'all good, Self.
Yeah, yeah. I hope so.
How are you?
Feeling pretty angsty, actually. Do you know anything about that?
I might have something to do with it, yeah.
Well... will you quit?
No, probably not.
Well... I'm gonna go watch the Office.
Not go to the party?
... I'll go to the party, make my hellos, leave an hour later feigning cramps to the ladies and allergies to the men.
Are you sure you want to go?
Actually... no, I don't think I want to at all.
*winner!*

Yeah, I let Angst beat me up and influence my decisions. But whatever. I'm gross. I feel gross, I look gross... all in all, just grossness.

Ugh. Ugh ugh ugh. Enough whining.

Current Grades:
Design: A, no worries
Precalc: B, need to work to keep it up!
Biology: A, a few worries but mostly OK
EHAP: A, a few worries but mostly OK
English: B (maybe A?), NEED TO WORK MY ASS OFF if I want to get an A!!
Writer's Workshop: A, no worries
Spanish: A, a few worries

Also. I LOVE SAILOR MOON.

Alright, this has been completely ridiculous. My apologies. I blame the medication. Off to watch the Office and 30 Rock.

On skypizzle with my B-Dubs.
Or you know, two of them: Eevee y Cor Cor. Love 'em.

So. What's the BEDA topic of the day?

English? Nope, not going to talk about it.
Nerimon? Not gonna talk about him either.
Alan's blog? Nope, keep guessing.
HayleyGHoover? Love her, but no.
Kristina? Love her too... but still no.
Armageddon? I'm flattered that you know I just watched it, but nope, not that either.
Zac Efron? The Jo Bros? Nay, I say, NAY!
Summer? Nope.
How effing hot it is in your room? Double nope.
Outside? TRIPLE nope.
Books? Hey, that counts as English, doesn't it?

So... what?

I dunno. Nothing.

booklist:
1. everything is illuminated
2. the average american male
3. inferno
4. life of pi
5. othello
6. all quiet
7. slaughterhouse-5
8. a separate peace
9. wizards (collection of short stories)
10. cat's cradle
[11. with the old breed]
[12. i know why the caged bird sings]
[13. one flew over the cuckoo's nest]

BEDA is getting haaaaaaaaard.

I love the fact that I learn all this interesting information via P-Nelli. Today we talked about the invention of LSD.

See, it was designed by the CIA as a means of forcing captured prisoners of war to talk. But they didn't want to use it on prisoners right away, so they decided to test-run it on some college, or just out of college, aged kids. Obviously, everybody got addicted to it, and by the time the CIA repealed it, everyone already knew how to make it. And that's why we have Ken Kesey writing One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest.

Also. I was in my school library earlier today. And I was trying to find Three Cups of Tea in the nonfiction section. I stumbled across the 800's, which all you Dewey Decimal lovers know is where they keep the "Literature." This confuses me. What makes the books in the nonfiction section of the library "literature," but Kurt Vonnegut and John Green have to sit in the fiction part of the library? Why is Virgil's Aeneid on some sort of pedestal? Because it's old? Really, that's a valid reason? Or is it a different reason that I just don't know? If anyone knows, please tell me... it's kind of bothering me, in this weird sort of way. (Among these books were Shakespeare, Dante, and that 1001 Arabian Nights.) Why are these in a nonfiction section of a library and not just labeled as "classics" or something?

So I get home from school and jump on skype, expecting to talk to Sierra (@crayolaawonderr), but she's on the phone. So I check twitter and see that John's broadcasting live! So I immediately go there and he reads some amazing poetry and answers questions for... what, an hour and a half? Two hours? Not even an hour? I can't tell. Alan was nice and gave me operator powers. I felt special. (: It was a fun show, full of product placement and Agloe talks and Willy and sellouts and... awesomeness.

A few days ago in EHAP, we discussed Niche. That man is a genius. He basically said "Up yours, Freud. We aren't controlled by our subconscious, we have free will." I totally agree. I think sometimes our actions are influenced by our subconscious, but we are ultimately responsible for our own choices, unless there is some flaw in our initial design that somehow alters our brain function (so yes, I do believe there are loonies out there). And we do get influenced by things that happen to us, but it's more of a learned behavior, you know? Like if my father did something to me when I was little that would cause me not to trust him, and I didn't trust him as I aged, that wouldn't be something that influenced me on the inside: it'd be a learned behavior. I taught myself to distrust him.

This blog is really random.

TENTACLES OUT.

I was on the Nerdfighter Ning this morning, and one of the discussion topics was "Life Changing books." So I started writing mine.

This whole year in my English class has been a life-changing experience when it comes to literature, but I'll list some that have really affected me throughout my life.

1. Harry Potter, JK Rowling. It wasn't my "spark" to reading, really, but the series and the aura around them is so amazing and it got me into the internet/nerdfighters/wrock/my friends.

2. Catcher in the Rye, JD Salinger. We're gonna read this book in English class later, so I'll be much more aware of the deeper themes/etc, but I absolutely adored this book. I felt so bad for Holden, and it sort of changed the way I portrayed myself, and how I handle personal relationships.

3. Inferno, Dante. This book taught me that absolutely nothing an author does is unintentional. Everything has a meaning, a deeper theme, a crackpot reason for existing. Plus, it helped me reevaluate the meaning of "morals" and Hell and Christianity. Love it.

4. A Separate Peace, John Knowles. Love it. Love it. Love it. It's so... I can't even explain it. If you've read it (and properly understand the symbolism), then you'll understand why it makes me cry, even before the second accident. /vague, but I don't want to spoil it. It also changed the way I thought about literature, as less of a collection of interesting idiosyncrasies of characters and plot and storytelling, but about what all of it means.

Aside from that, specifically about the book, personally about my life, it's made me reevaluate my own childhood, my own fleeting innocence, my Finnys and my Lepers and my Brinkers and me. My Bookworms will vouch that I was completely convinced I was Gene for about ten seconds in a skype call. It's like Gene is a ghost on my back, something I need to be aware of all the time. I need to look for my adulthood, because if I don't... well... it'll kill me.

5. The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, Mark Twain. At first, I hated this book. It was a summer-reading assignment, so of course I was spiteful, and didn't do a good job reading it. But then, I got to class and we talked about it. It reevaluated, like A Separate peace how I thought about literature. Of course, it did introduce me to the idea that characters run a story rather than themes, but obviously that's worked out now. Thanks, John Knowles! I think I'm going to read this one again fairly soon.

6. Twilight, Stephanie Meyer. Yeah, I hate it. We all know this. (And if you don't... well. Now you know.) But through it's horribleness, it helped me determine why I read. What I expect to get out of books. And Twilight didn't deliver that for me.

I think that about sums it up... funny how in 12 years of reading, only 7 have a lasting memory on me, and more than half have been read within the last few years. I guess I'm close to really "finding" myself, to making my judgments about literature as a whole. Close, but not quite.

And now, the booklist.

1. everything is illuminated
2. the average american male
3. inferno
4. life of pi
5. othello
6. all quiet
7. slaughterhouse-5
8. a separate peace
9. wizards (collection of short stories)
[10. cat's cradle]
[11. with the old breed]

Also, some exciting news:
@aplusk, aka Ashton Kutcher, is now following @realjohngreen, aka The One And Only John Green, on twitter. Awesome. *nerdfighters!*

Tee hee, I'm on AIM and Skype right now in class. And now I'm blogging. I feel like such a bad seed. <3 And I rearranged my dashboard. WANNA SEE?



Today won't be a good one. I wanted to blog about how important English assignments are, even if they seem completely ridiculous and trite, they aren't. But I'll save it for another day.

Remember that Lavender Fields piece I posted here a while ago? Well, I reworked it a lot to go with another writer's workshop assignment: model a piece after an author you like. Now it's Vonnegutized.

---------

1
LAVENDER

The glass window was not the only thing that separated me and the lavender fields. I could almost feel the breeze on my cheek, but I never would. Everything was fuzzy, fading, a dim overcast, since I fell.

My brother, or good as, lie parallel to the floor in his cot, with no pillows to support his head. He called for his mother. He was twenty, two years older than when he first left home. He was a little boy who made a rash, stupid mistake. Maybe I was, too. He came from a traditional family, like they all did. His mother supported the war, supported his going. They cried over each other, when he left.

I chose to go to the war. I chose to leave. I was an escape artist. I didn't cry. No one did. My mom hated it.

He came from Idaho. He and his mother and his farmer-father and his little sister, growing ripe in college; they all came from Idaho. They came from the little lavender fields in Idaho. They hated the potatoes. Once, when we were separated, I found some lavender, and I stuffed my pockets full of the stuff. He always smelled of it, from growing up eating it and bathing in it. So I stuffed my shirt, stuffed my socks, stuffed my bag -- and I smelled like him. I didn't ever give it to him, though.

I blink. When I open my eyes, I can't see him. I can't see the lavender. I'm blind. I blink again. I can see again. I looked over at my brother, or good as, and coughed. He looks over at me, but couldn't say anything. Not yet. Too traumatized, said the Doctor. He could only call for his mother. I could hear him crying at night, see the tears on his bed sheets, smell the piss since he could hardly get up anymore.

I blink.

Everything goes dark.

I blink again. It's enough.

He fell apart, when he caught up with me in the lavender fields. It tore him to pieces. He remembered it, remembered his home, remembered his mother and his sister, remembered that he was German, remembered that they were German, and he lost it, got shot, fell back, broke his leg. Now the infection is setting in, slowly killing him, says the Doctor.

The Doctor didn't realize he was already dead. He had been dead. He was just continuing his deadness until eventually his mental state and his physical met, and he would be dead for the Doctor.

I had suffered damage to my Occipital lobe. Funny how I fell backward and went blind. Or I'm going blind, says the Doctor. We'll all go blind by the end of it. The Occipital lobe isn't strong enough for all of us, we can't all see everything.

We'll keep getting pushed backward, kept getting farther and farther away from the Enemy Base. We're going to wind up in the ocean. I could almost see the ocean now. By the time we made it there, though, my Occipital lobe will be beyond repair.

I wonder what will happen when we die. Because I'm as close to death as he is. Will we get an obituary? I hear a groan from my brother, or good as.

“Hey,” I grunted.
“Yeah?”
“You alright?”
I thought I saw him smile. Another groan.
“Might be. Not sure. Yet,” he said. A pause. “You know what, I think I'm going to die.”
“You'll be fine.” But he wouldn't be.
“Yeah. Maybe.”

And I lie parallel to the floor and wonder about an obituary.

2
IMPORTANCE OF ERNEST

Survived by his mother, younger sister, and father, Ernest Wilde was a foot soldier in the Second World War. He always smelled of lavender. He had many friends in the Army, but wanted to fly planes more than anything else. It was too late to get involved in the Air Force, but that never stopped Ernest! He was the perfect soldier, followed orders, and never backed down. His sense of humor kept everyone, even the superiors, laughing for hours! He never whined about being hungry – unless the meal was potatoes! - and never complained about missing home. But don't let that fool you – he loved his family and would have done anything for them or his friends. He was such a powerful force in This Man's Army, it's a wonder what we'll do without him.

Or maybe that's just what they want.

3
DOCTORED

My name is...

I don't think I can write my own obituary. It seems a bit off. Maybe I'll ask Ernest to do it for me... if he wakes up again soon. Otherwise I'll forget. I might be blind by that time. Not even the Doctor knows.

He won't give anyone a straight answer. We all wait, wondering when we'll be better, when we'll be cured. But he never says, just keeps to his rounds, keeps to himself. Says we're going to die, even if it's not right now, so why does it even matter? The nurses bring us the food and he tells us we're going to die. A lot of people go mad, off themselves with homemade nooses or just stop eating. No one really notices if it's their own fault or the Doctor's or just the actual ailment.

For Ernest, it's going to be the infection.

4
BLIND

I blink.
I open, and there's nothing.
Blink.
Nothing.
Blink, blink, blink.
Nothing, nothing, nothing.
“I'm blind,” I say.
“We're all blind,” I hear, but I can't tell if I said it or if it was Ernest.

There are very few things that are necessary to know about me if one wants to be my friend, but they are necessary. I'll list them here.

1. I love popsicles. More than life.
2. I have an internet addiction that consumes most of my life.
3. I lovelovelove Harry Potter, wizard rock, and the Harry Potter community.

Today, in BEDA 12 (Easter Sunday), I'll be discussing #2.

I "find" things on the internet. When asked of the origins (usually phrased as "Where the hell do you find this stuff?"), I simply state "I'm on the internet. A lot."

People always ask me what the fuck I do online all day. There's a very complicated, drawn-out, way-too-long-of-an answer, but usually I cock my head to the side, sort of crack a chuckle, then go back to my work or change the subject or something.

My current closest friends I met through the internet, or at least through nerdfighting. It's hard to find people IRL who understand the insane need I have for YouTube and the Nerdfighter community. They're the most amazing people in the whole wide world, and not everyone understands that. So instead of trying to make people understand, I found different people.

I have to explain that I spend most of my time online chatting with people, as well. It gets awkward, since we've been told so frequently NOT to talk to people you met online, and to NOT give away any personal information ever. Well, I'm sorry that the way I AM doesn't fit into your little Polly Perfect life, that I just can't make friends. I utilized my resources and found the best friends I could ever want.

So you can imagine the huge part YouTube has taken in my life now. It made me feel like less of a lonely teenage girl. I became 100fold less angsty. I found Nerdfighters, and it changed my whole life. And now, YouTube wants to force us away? For a few extra bucks? What the hell?!

Alright, I understand that it's not just a "few extra bucks." It's millions of dollars. But there are SO MANY OTHER WAYS to make money! And see, this is just for advertisers. There are still no promises that more people are going to advertise. The brilliant Alan Lastufka's article linked above offers WAY better suggestions, and some of the comments awesome, as well! Someone recommended YouTube offering a "premium" site you have to subscribe to, for which I would pay in a heartbeat.

There are SO MANY other options besides forcing the community away. I don't want the "You" in YouTube to go away...

[This blog was originally supposed to be more about YouTube's redesign, and ended up being... well, you just read it. LOL I have feelings.]

So yesterday I was featured on the Ning for "a passionate speech on my dislike of 'Chick Lit.'" I'll be writing a respond-to-comments post tomorrow. It seems that most of my blog posts thus far are literature/book-based.

Today was a nerd-day for me.

I start off the day reading the 24 tweets that came in the previous night. Run a little late to school, but it's all good.

In seminar (basically our study hall class since we have block scheduling), there was a speaker who is a professor-man specifically for Dante's Inferno, a book that has completely changed my personal view of literature. About halfway through his speech, I pull out my Writer's Notebook and start taking notes. Yeah. Nerd.

I then proceed to stay after, into my lunch period, to ask him a question. I asked whether he thought, as a scholar, if Inferno had more value to a religious person as opposed to someone who was not religious and took The Bible as a work of literature rather than as a religion. He talked about how most of the characters in Inferno are indeed religious, and it doesn't matter what you believe, but how strongly you believe it. He made some very interesting points that most of you probably wouldn't understand unless you have read Inferno. So if you're curious, drop me an email (karatetentacles@gmail.com).

What a nerd. During lunch I studied for a test the following class. Took test. Yay. Then I began to write a blog all about Inferno and Dante and loveliness and stuff. My teacher laughed at me since she was on her computer and I kept telling her to blog about the annoying kid in our class. Quite fun.

Sixth block rolls around: writer's workshop. Assignment: emulate the style of your favorite* author. I'm currently reading Vonnegut, so I chose him. About halfway through, I realize that my writing is less Vonnegut and more Knowles (as in A Separate Peace), so I have a mini-breakdown and some sort of midlife crisis of sorts... The bell rings, but I want to stay after class. I mean, it's enough that I'm actually taking the assignment seriously rather than just bullshitting my way through.

To top it all off, I'm wearing my Percy is a Prat t-shirt. Lovely. I love being a nerd sometimes. I spent [most of] the rest of the day with Darci. <3

/BEDA TEN!

* an author you like / enjoy the style of.

Wrote something during lunch.

Didn't like it.

Deleted it.

Can't think of anything to write about, but I must make my blogs like-able! Sigh.

Oh but hey, look at this email that just came in.



Aww, thanks Mr. Distro.

Anyway. I'm not feeling prose-y. So you just get little lines. I hate it when I do that because it just
looks like
I like
pressing the
enter key
too much.
But I don't!
Alright, I do.

Should I do two spaces?
Or just one?

It's a big deal. I really like to vary the length of my paragraphs. Like a one-liner is ok every once in a while, but only after there is a sufficient paragraph that looks like I put effort into it. I think the appearance and formatting of the text is one of the major parts of blogging. I can't read anything that's just a HUGE BLOCK OF TEXT, especially when written in a sans-serif font like arial or helvetica, etc. I get so discouraged when I see no spaces in between. It's one reason I love Kurt Vonnegut so much. He does short chapters, but they're not all one page, but some are. Some are three pages. But nothing is too long that it feels like I'm struggling to get through it. It's nice to have breaks so frequently, because it's easier to find places to stop and gather thoughts. Simultaneously, it makes you feel smart that you're reading so many chapters so quickly.

Formatting means so much. I've always been absorbed in chapter titles and paragraph lengths and chapter lengths. I'm kinda weird. That's why I think I belong in the publishing company. Why I know I belong there.

M'kay. Tomorrow's blog will be better. I have homework to do and people to talk to.

// edit: I posted this and then realized my blog is in a sans-serif font! WTF SELF! HYPOCRITE! *edits html*

Using only song titles from ONE ARTIST, cleverly answer these questions. Try not to repeat a song title. It's harder than you think.

Pick Your Artist: Tell me if this is cheating -- Disney Songs (that I have on my iPod)

Are you male or female: He's a Tramp I'll Make A Man Out of You Kiss the Girl
Describe yourself: Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious
How do you feel about yourself: A Girl Worth Fighting For
Describe where you currently live: Bella Notte
If you could go anywhere, where would you go: A Whole New World
Your favorite form of transportation: When I See An Elephant Fly
Your best friend is: Prince Ali
Your favorite color is: Colors of the Wind
What's the weather like: Little April Showers
Favorite time of day: Arabian Nights
If your life was a tv show, what would it be called: Stand Out
What is life to you: The Bare Necessities
What is the best advice you have to give: Hakuna Matata CODE BOAT /darcio90 Go the Distance
If you could change your name, what would it be: Colonel Hatch March
Your favorite food is: Nobody Else but You [this one is inappropriate]
Thought for the Day: Reflection
How I would like to die: Shooting Star
My soul's present condition: A Wondrous Place
The faults I can bear: I Won't Say (I'm In Love)
My motto: Hakuna Matata

"What's a motto?"
"Nothing, what's a'motto with you?"

BEDA blog for today --> whooo! It's not a good one... unless you don't read webcomics, then I may have made your day! I just wanted to update my booklist since I finished A Separate Peace.

1. everything is illuminated
2. the average american male
3. inferno
4. life of pi
5. othello
6. all quiet
7. slaughterhouse-5
8. a separate peace
[9. wizards (collection of short stories)]
[10. cat's cradle]

beda 5 on MJ's ning! http://tinyurl.com/bedatentacles

There are certain things in this life that just can't possibly be any better.

One of them is staying up until 12:30AM on a Sunday night talking to two people who live halfway across the country and one person who lives twenty minutes away. In this conversation, you are making up code words that are completely ridiculous and amazing and hysterical and you just love all the people in the chat. But I suppose there are two ways to make this better.

1) Having it happen in person rather than online.
2) Having your English homework all finished beforehand.

But I regret nothing. It was probably the most fun chat of my life. It started with all 7 of us bookworms -- see, I'm in one of those lame awesome collab channels, called 7AwesomeBookworms -- in an AIM chat. Because that's how we do. We started talking about Velociraptor Awareness Week, then all of us got on omegle. For some choice conversations, see Darci's blog.

Nerimon discussed omegle in his VEDA video for the fifth. The tagline of the site is "Talk to strangers!" which sounds completely ridiculous and downright creepy. Which it is. You just click "connect!" and it will connect you with someone named "stranger." I've developed several games to play while on omegle.

Game 1: Nerdfighter?

The purpose of this game is to find and recruit nerdfighters! Open the chat, ask "nerdfighter?" and wait for a response. If yes, do a smiley face, possibly continue a conversation, and be happy. If no, link to the vlogbrother's youtube page, and then leave.

Game 2: Jerry?

In this game, you open the chat and ask "Jerry?" as though you're looking for that person. If they say yes, start asking about "Jerry's" sex life with Janine, his long term girlfriend. But see, Jerry has been cheating on Janine with Emily, who is Felix's girlfriend. DRAMA!

Game 3: Creepy man.

This one's easy. Enter chat. Ask ASL. When they ask for yours, you are 42 / m / hopefully in your pants? and wait for a disconnect. If no disconnect occurs, ask to cyber. If they say yes, Code Hot Pink. If they disconnect, you have won this game.

Game 4: Vulnerable girl.

Same thing as Creepy Man, but this time your asl is 13 / f / usa. You're vulnerable and emo. Maybe emo. It depends on the person on the other end.

Anyway. That was that awesome chat. This has been BEDA 6 with karatetentacles. Yay.

1. everything is illuminated
2. the average american male
3. inferno
4. life of pi
5. othello
6. all quiet
7. slaughterhouse-5
[8. wizards: a collection of short stories]
[9. a separate peace]

brackets mean currently reading. shorthand ftw.

Right. Second part: Dave Eggers.

Dave Eggers makes my heart sing. He's written a few books, but I've only read two because my library is made of fail. I need to read more Vonnegut, as well. Anyway. Mr. Eggers wrote What is the What, an original B2.0 book club book. It's sort of a fictionalized autobiography of the life of Valentino Achak Deng, one of the Sudanese Lost Boys who was relocated to America. It's an amazing story, written very interestingly, and it comes highly recommended from yours truly. The other book I've read of his is A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, which is Mr. Eggers's own memoir. After his parents die of different cancers, Dave becomes the caretaker of his little brother while still growing up himself. Some of it is fictionalized, but it's absolutely amazing and funny and heartwarming and just great. It also comes highly recommended.

Mr. Eggers co-founded the magazine known as Might, which, if you read AHWOSG, you'll know more about. It was marketed for twentysomethings and created in the 90's. It's no longer in circulation, but from what I've seen/heard, it's an absolutely lovely magazine.

Now, Mr. Eggers has two "projects:" There's McSweeney's and 826 National.

McSweeney's is an American publishing house.

Wikipedia:

"Apart from its growing book list, McSweeney's is responsible for four regular publications: the quarterly literary journal Timothy McSweeney's Quarterly Concern, the daily-updated literature and humor site McSweeney's Internet Tendency, the monthly magazine The Believer, and the new quarterly DVD magazine, Wholphin. The publishing house also runs two additional imprints, Believer Books and the Collins Library."

On the website, there are hundreds [or thousands] of writings and short stories that are immensely entertaining. There's the Open Letters to People or Entities Who Are Unlikely To Respond series, Brian Beatty's Jokes, and plenty of others. Overall, the thing is brilliant, and now my dream job.

Then we have 826 National, a nonprofit writing workshop for kids aged 6-18. The original location was 826 Valencia in San Francisco, thus the name. There are six total locations for the workshops, and one in Brooklyn, New York is located in a superhero supply shop. You walk in and there's a bookshelf in the back, and you pull on a certain book and there's the program. Seriously, how cool is that?? There's one in Ann Arbor(, Michigan), Seattle, Boston, and Chicago. Read more about it on the website, as well as wikipedia.

So my new plan is to move to either San Fran, Brooklyn, Ann Arbor, Seattle, Boston, or Chicago and volunteer year-round at the center. Then maybe I can get a job at McSweeney's and launch my own publishing company from there. It's perfect. Just perfect. I can't wait 'til I'm older. :)

BEDA day 4: pwned. This has been Katy. Have a nice day.

READ FIRST.

writer's workshop class.
prompt: use these words --

glass / breeze / lavender / wild / enough

He could almost see through the glass, almost see the lavender fields, almost feel the breeze against his cheek. But he never could -- never again. His vision was fading quickly, the war taking it's toll. He would never see clearly again, and soon his vision might be gone forever. The soldier was home, in his Idaho home, back with his mother. It was enough for him, the relaxation. He had no sense of touch, no sense of taste, no sense of self anymore. He laid down in bed, parallel to the floor, no pillows to support his head.

His mother came in. Even though he was 20 now, 2 years older than he had been when he first left, to her he was still a little boy who made a rash and stupid decision. He wasn't drafted, he left. He was set for college, set for life, but he came back. They were a traditional family -- they supported the troops, but she never thought he would become one. Her brother was a Navy officer, her father a soldier in the first world war. And now, her son. She had married her husband for his lack of military involvement in the family tree, and thought that would be enough to save her son -- it wasn't. He was immensely interested in military strategy since a little boy. He was brilliant, and it scared her. She made him play piano and guitar, neglected sending him to boarding school to keep him from other rash boys desperate to join in on the fighting. It wasn't enough, though. He found a way.

He looked at his mother, but couldn't see the tears on her face. He smiled widely, beckoned her, and she came to his bedside. He couldn't say anything, not yet, too traumatized, said the doctor. He grabbed onto her mother, the tears flowing wildly, but he couldn't tell, saw her smiling.

She left, wiping her eyes with a handkerchief. He turned back to the lavender. Idaho was known for its potatoes, but here, in this piece of heaven, was acre after acre of beautiful lavender. There had been lavender in the war -- he remembered seeing it, remembered yearning for home, remembered picking as much as he could, stuffing his socks with it, smelling of it, bathing in it. They had stopped for a few hours, maybe a day, but it was enough to destroy him. After that, he was overcome with the desire to go home. After that, he couldn't be a soldier. He couldn't remove himself from the battle any more. When he saw a gun in his hand, he saw his mother crying. He saw the people he was killing, but they weren't the enemy, they were boys, away from home, just like him.

He had survived so far, keeping his head, keeping away from the gas, but he let it get him. He was short because he refused to shoot. He fell, hit his head, his eyesight now leaving, now recovering at home, with his mother.
---------------------------------

I am so proud of myself. For the longest time, I've always thought of writing as just collecting interesting things, idiosyncrasies of people. I've always thought of literature in terms of characters. Now I realize that characters are just a tool. They aren't the whole story, just tools to help you realize the theme, the point, the reason why the book was written. You need to use symbolism and imagery and metaphors and all that, and you need to consciously make a point about something, which I've never really done before. But I've done it now.

Yes, it's crudely done, horribly obvious, but the basic tools are there. There's an idea, and it's not subtle at all. It's blatant, staring you in the face. I need to fix that, but it's present, no? That's the job of the writer, the good writer: making it subtle yet present, making it understandable yet not obvious.

so that I don't spam up one blog, I'm posting every other day on my account on Maureen's ning thingyjigger. so yeah.

today is April 2nd. A Thursday. Made my b-dub video, need to edit it.

watching Voyage of the Damned.

brief summary: around 950 Jews are leave Germany for Havana, Cuba, on the S.S. St. Louis, but are never permitted to enter the country.

It's a smutty scene, so I'm turning my eyes, even though it's my favorite guy in the smut. Oh wait, now it's over. TASTEFUL smut? That's 1976 for you. Oh well. My favorite guy is named Gunther...

OH FUCK GUNTHER JUST DIED.
WHY IS MY LIFE SO SAD?
He was in the middle of being smutty, and the captain needed him to feed the bird, and then the captain walked in on him and the girl [who I also like] and they were both DEAD!!!

AAH!

Stupid Nazi-blonde guy. He's so mean! He punches the nice people and makes them bleed in the mouth! Why did he kill Gunther?? To make the captain sad? WHAT A BITCH! D: D: D:

Excuse my language, BUT SERIOUSLY. Goddamn Nazi Germany. Goddamn. Oh my god it's so sad. This whole movie is fucking sad. All WWII Nazi-Germany era movies are fucking sad.

Dead smutty girl's mom is craaaazy. I feel bad calling her that, but I don't know anyone's name. There are a lot of characters in this movie. I usually call her Sympathetic Housewife, but you guys wouldn't understand that in context.

There are less than ten minutes left of this movie and no conclusion in sight!

"Of the 937 passengers on the S.S. St. Louis, 600 died in concentration camps."

I'd call that a good BEDA entry, wouldn't you?