Girls, Be Ambitious

I need to what...?

Sat, 16 May 2009 14:05:04 GMT

So I joined two half-semester P.E. classes for the second of this past semester. One instructor registered me right away for the class, but the other instructor didn't. Now I've been informed that if I wish to receive the credit for having successfully completed the course, I need to petition this academic board. Petitioning involves attending meetings that ended well before I was informed that I needed to do this and general jumping through hoops-ness. I'm peeved because this is totally not my fault (why didn't she just add me in during the normal add/drop time?) and yet I'm the one who's going to have to deal with the mess.

Anyway, visited Williams yesterday. Pretty fun, though I was reminded exactly why I'm an idiot multiple times...

Hm.

Thu, 14 May 2009 14:26:46 GMT

Found out why room mate didn't ever use the blender more than once. Room mate broke the blender.She cracked the pitcher and broke off one of the four plastic leg-like things that you attach the pitcher to the base by twisting. It's not so bad, though. Nothing that a little duct tape couldn't fix. I've already used it twice and it's been completely fine.

Still living primarily out of duffle bags. I did, however, finish unpacking my clothes, meaning that I've also finished going through my closet and bagging all the things that no longer fit / can't be fixed by tailoring / no longer want. I have to admit, it was pretty fun to go shopping in my closet and then have a over-sized fashion show for mom. In tops, I went from a size 16 to about a 10, depending on store, and in pants from a size 18 to a size 10. Aaand I've already gained three pounds since I've been back. I'm probably the only person who gains weight when the come home from college. >.>

I really want to know my grades, but I wont know until after May 22nd.

((p[-000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000p-[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[)) <-- my cat just walked on my lap top.

Anyway, I'm very proud of my anthropology essay on yaoi manga. ...don't give me that look. It was intellectual, damn it. Basically, the premis of said essay ran as follows: how is it that the demographic in Japan most likely to read yaoi manga (female, late high school - college-aged) is also the demographic most likely to be intollerant of male-homosexuality? I agrue, among other things, that though the mechanics of the sex in the manga are gay, the relationship is more heterosexual than homosexual, and that the deletion of the female from the equation provides the female reader with an emotional catharsis of being able to step outside of her societally reenforced gender role and identify with the "seme" character as well as the "uke". I disagree with some pyschologists who say that yaoi represents the desire "to become", claiming that yaoi is the desire "to play" as in, to play out a role. I also look at the sexualities of yaoi readers and mangaka. ^_^

Notes at 8am

Fri, 08 May 2009 12:25:18 GMT

Finals: Status:

Final: Music Theory (Written)
Status: 2/3 complete. I almost lost this final yesterday when I unplugged my laptop from the wall, not knowing that the battery had completely shit the bed. The screen went black and I hadn't saved my final. Fortunately, for as much of a pain in the ass as Open Office is (oh how I long for MS Word), it recovered my document in its entirety. Working on the last section after this. I'm slightly amazed that the analysis of theme and several variations took me nearly four hours. I'm also surprised that my first instinct is to type variations with two r's even though by this point I'm well aware that it has only one. The other parts of the final, aural skills and keyboard proficency, were finished Tuesday and Thursday, respectively.

Final: Contemporary Chinese Fiction paper on difference between depictions of femininity by male and female authors
Status: So freaking close to being done. Just need to add in some references regarding Confucian values and then, after a proof-read, it's finished.

Final: Japanese
Status: My only exam will be taken Monday morning or afternoon, depending on if I want to sleep a little or not.

Final: Anthropology of Modern Japan paper re: attitudes towards male homosexuality in Japan vs the popularity of yaoi / shonnen-ai manga and anime.
Status: Not started. Will work on later today. I love this paper beyond reason. Using The Journal of Homosexuality, I plan on sighting that the demographic most disapproving of male homosexuality are late-high school to college-aged females-- the same demographic that widely reads yaoi and etc. Using this and other ethnographic field work (including a humors account of a male anthropologist going to a yaoi conn in Japan), I will agrue that the relations depicted in this yaoi text are not in fact homosexual despite the presence of homosexual sex. Rather, the presence of two male characters involved in a romantic relationship functions as a catharsis for women trapped within Japan's ridgid gender roles. That is to say, through the elimination of the female in these relationships, a female reader can identify with both the desiree (or uke) and the desirer (or seme), the later being a role which societal expectations often bar from women.

Cool, huh?

Only been about forever...

Wed, 15 Apr 2009 20:59:29 GMT

What can I say? I've been busy. That, and no one reads this thing, anyway...

My classes this semester are wonderful. Anthroplogy of Modern Japan is a delight and Contemporary Chinese Fiction wound up being absolutely awesome. However, I can't wait to get out of here. Why? Living situation. Because of the filth and the absolutely inconsiderate behavoir.

At any rate, I went home last weekened and it was very lovely.

"I wake up every even with a big smile on face..."

Wed, 21 Jan 2009 04:05:42 GMT

Back at Holyoke after the long weekend. Lindsay stayed at the house Saturday into Sunday and then we had lunch on Monday. Naturally, both occasions were wonderful. It'd been a thousand years since Lindsay spent the night at home, i.e., not since before I went to college. We went to a little Chinese place in Westerly called Golden Chopsitcks and there selection for dim sum was phenominal. Scallion pancakes and fried tofu were delicious, but the best of all were the sweet potato buns (so good!) and the lotus seed paste buns which were perfectly round and covered in sesame seeds. Our dining adventure was completed by a trip to a swanky little cafe called Perks and Corks in downtown Westerly. The explanation behind the name: during the day, the place is a coffee shop and during the night it's a bar. I find this very clever. Inside was like a lavish salon. The prices were a bit expensive, but the atmosphere was charming with a bunch of bongo and guitar playing art people. The waiter was a shameless flirt.

Watched the inauguration at home before I came back up. Listening to the man who spoke before Obama put a slight damper on my spirits. I could not believe he said the complete Our Father. Look, I understand the concept of separation of church and state is nothing but a myth we sometimes like to talk about in this country, but was that really necessary? Cue me griping about why we're still so far from achieving civil rights / gay rights / other sorts of rights... but Obama was fantastic. And Yo Yo Ma looked like he was having the time of his life playing that beautifully arranged version of the Shaker's Hymn with the other musicians.

We managed to rearrange the room in a way that allowed us to (finally!) unbunk the beds! It's a bit obnoxious, but at least I'm on the floor rather than up at the ceiling. I anticipate better night sleeps.

"Well, you know you're rockin' rollers..."

Wed, 14 Jan 2009 17:05:13 GMT

First semester's grades were all in on the fifth of the month. It was a major relief to see that I managed to get an A- in Lipman's class, especially with its less than auspicious start. I wonder what my grade was on my final...

I got an A in Japanese, thank God, or otherwise I would have climbing the walls. Voice was also an A. It's still a strange feeling to be graded on something like that.

A- in Cultural Anthropology. Meh, whatever. I gained a lot of insights from that class, but on the whole I feel that the professor could have run the class more effectively; not having any tests or quizes (or really any collectable homework besides the occasional journals) beyond the midterm, ethnography paper, and final made me rather lax about it.

Math was a B+. I actually got a B+ in that shit-for-brains, "now how much is four divided by two?" class. I shoot kick myself in the ass. Really, I should. I blame the final project. It was a paper. A real paper, or so she specificed in her directions. Long story short, no outside research was allowed beyond what she had given us, and I had to write a ten page paper on a page and a half of information. I bull shat that thing like I've nothing I've ever done before. She was such a kind lady, but I have no idea what the point of that course was. Beyond me getting me my one necessary math credit.

So now I'm in J-term, which means unlimited free time save for my two non-credit courses twice a week, Reiki and lapidary / silversmithing. I finished my first ring last night. I still hate the stone I chose, but at the same time, it looks nice over all. I started cutting a new stone last night for a new idea I have. It's fun, but does a number on your skin.

I've come up with an idea regarding the sleeping situation. Because the damn heat is continuously blasting on my head, I'm going to sleep with my head at the foot of the bed every night and use an extra blanket as opposed to trying to untuck the other end of my quilt. I'm getting next to no sleep like this, not to mention being directly underneath the source of heat (why the fuck it's on the ceiling I'll never know), my eyes are dry like woah and my lips are cracked and bleeding. At least I have a plan. I just need to remember that I'd done that for when I climb down... bunk beds are such a bitch.

Unfortunately, due to car issues, Kate isn't coming up today, meaning I've got to occupy myself today. I think I'm going grab some lunch before heading to the library for a cup of coffee.

HA

Sun, 28 Dec 2008 01:22:14 GMT

.&009

Tue, 23 Dec 2008 03:04:24 GMT

First semester of college is complete. I finished my finals on Wednesday and went home late that night. I got to spend some time with Lindsay, which was wonderful and, of course, too short.

Attempted some Christmas shopping with Kate. It turned into quite the misadventure. First I-95 had a major delay, so we circumvented it via Route 1. We catch Route 9, but then that's closed due to a major accident. We wind up sitting in some parking lot, pouring over a map in hopes of finding away to bypass the accident. We'd already been driving for two hours at that point and quickly decide to scrap it. We wisely decide to scrap it and head back and stop at the first mall in the other direction-- which is, of course, an outdoor mall. Can we say cold?

Too lazy and disatisfied to type more.

.&008 (Finals Week: Day One)

Sat, 13 Dec 2008 17:00:15 GMT

MHC is without a doubt the most amazing school for exam-taking.

In my dorm, we have twenty-four hour access to free coffee, hot-chocolate, a soft drink machine, milk, and cereal.

The library is now open twenty-four hours a day. There's free food and drink (including coffee) in the Info Commons from 9pm until 3pm.

While I can't say I'm not at all stressed, I'm enjoying myself. I've got a prime spot in the library. Comfortable love seat with an outlet behind it for my computer, a round table for my books and feet, all positioned right by a window looking into the Court.

My goal for today is to finish my final for Lipman's class. Originally, I wanted to have my math final done, but as I don't understand that stupid paper assignment what so ever, I have to wait until Monday so I can talk to Prof about it. I'm so ready to be done with that class.

Anthro final first draft is done; just need to proof-read it and then it'll be complete.

If I finish the Lipman paper today, then I can proof-read both on Sunday and then start studying for Japanese. I'll continue studying for Japanese on Monday, punctuated by going to the math Prof, then it's back to Japanese. I'll take the Japanese exam Tuesday morning, then spend the rest of the day working on the Math final. I hope to be done with finals no later than Wednesday night. I'll leave Thursday, but only after I'm done with my work-study shift.... what a bummer. Oh well.

.&006

Thu, 04 Dec 2008 15:00:34 GMT

kanji no shiken ga arimasu. kinyoubi no asa wa vespers ni ikimasu kara, kyou wa no ikiteimasu.

If writing in actual Japanese characters weren't such a time comsuming process, I'd do it, but I have to be out the door in roughly a half hour. I'm going to get to Skinner ridiculously early, sit around, take the test, then have class. Lipman's giving a lecture today, so no Chinese Intellectuals class. Instead, I'll be meeting with my new Japanese tutor, Ruth. This is me, working on becoming a capable speaker of Japanese as soon as humanly possible.

Last night's rehearsal never got more than five minutes behind schedule. I have never experienced this phenomina before in my life. I'm sorely dissapointed that I didn't pursue one of the vocal groups this semster. Really, it's not fair to have auditions the very first week of school, when you're too busy worried about where you can get food and where you're classes will be to figure out which aria you'd like to audition with.

Speaking of singing, today if my informal, in-class recital for which I have not practiced whatsoever. It shouldn't be a big deal.

.&004

Tue, 02 Dec 2008 00:54:09 GMT

((konban wa, tsuki ga kirei desu yo.))

The moon is beautiful tonight, just the last sliver but incredibly bright nonetheless.

I took a prospective student around the campus today, which was fairly enjoyable. It would have been completely enjoyable had I not been exceedingly tired first from an ill-spent break and a long essay writing session at the library. Because, as my luck would have it, I realized that my last assignment for Lipman's class is due Tuesday instead of Thursday like normal. It's done now; all I have to do is proof read it, which I don't feel up to doing right now.

I slept from about 5pm to 6pm. ((go ji kara roku ji made nemashita.)) I kept waking up suddenly ever so often, so I'm a little edgy. I'm supposed to meet Alyssa at the library for Japanese studying.

I weigh 165.8 lbs today. I'm paranoid that when I get on the scale tomorrow, I'm going to see something like 167 because of the god damn brownie that my prospective student wanted to share with me. I need to at least be 130-something by the time the ConnetiCon comes around because, predictably, I caved and agreed to cosplay as Kyouya from Ouran. I probably should have gone to the gym today, but I'm just so damn tired...

And what's this with iTunes actually having a variety of j-rock? Mucc? Wow.

.&003 Fic: Here Comes the Flood

Tue, 25 Nov 2008 04:07:54 GMT

Title: Here Comes the Flood
Rating: T
Summary: Based on Tyler Owen's cover of the song, "Here Comes the Flood." Wolfram was beautiful even on the precipice of battle, a gleaming, golden sacrifice that gave heart to his men and left Conrart sick to his stomach...

.

Disclaimer: I do not own Kyou Kara Maou. The song is “Here Comes the Flood” by Peter Gabriel, as covered by Tyler Owen on the album Boathouse.

I took the old track
the hollow shoulder, across the waters
On the tall cliffs
they were getting older, sons and daughters

The jaded underworld was riding high
Waves of steel hurled metal at the sky
and as the nail sunk in the cloud, the rain
was warm and soaked the crowd.

It had been Wolfram’s dream ever since he had learned the word ‘soldier’ and its implications as a child. The last war lingered only on the very edges of his memory as he had still been so young, unaware of death but powerfully conscious of the sadness that clung to everyone like a second skin. As age brought knowledge, Wolfram wished bitterly that he could have ridden out like his brother and returned transformed from mere mortal into hero of war and the thing of legends. But Conrart, as Wolfram saw it, never understood the passion of his longings, that desperate need to prove that he was more than just the beautiful doll and the spoilt third son. He knew war was a terrible thing; the shadows in Conrart’s eyes had frightened him when he first returned, but should the knowledge that he had served his country well have been enough to console him?

Wolfram threw himself into his training as soon as he came of proper age, first wanting to be just like his beloved older brother, then wanting to surpass the traitor that had replaced him. He worked until his young muscles cried in protest, until he was drenched in sweat through and through and Conrart had to carry him from the field. For all his petulant tendencies, no one could say that Wolfram was anything but a disciplined solider and a magnificent wielder of fire.

Now his time had come. He sat on his white horse before a flank of his men, the fierce wind throwing his hair this way and that before snatching the banner bearing his crest, pulling it taut against the silver-gray sky. The sword gleamed cruelly in his hand, winking and glinting as though it were alive, hungry for sacrifice. Wolfram was beautiful even on the precipice of battle, a gleaming, golden sacrifice that gave heart to his men and left Conrart sick to his stomach. Beneath the austere and disciplined façade of a soldier lay the little brother that had been cradled so tenderly against his chest, the small, fragile child he’d promised to protect from all harm.

Wolfram turned his head, feeling Conrart’s gaze upon him. Their eyes met and everything that needed to be said was understood through that last moment of silence before it was shattered by the blast of trumpets.

And as the seas of men charged forward, the first raindrop fell from the sky.

Lord, here comes the flood
We'll say goodbye to flesh and blood
If again the seas are silent
in any still alive
It'll be those who gave their island to survive
Drink up, dreamers, you're running dry.

Wolfram stumbled as he ran, struggling to keep his balance on the slick ground as the downpour slowly turned the earth under his feet into mud. His hair was plastered to his sweat-stained forehead, his uniform glued to the sharp lines of his trembling body. Sword clutched in his right hand, he scrambled up the side of a hill, slipping and sliding, clawing at the sodden earth with his left hand until he stood on the crest and his uniform was stained a bloody brown.

The battlefield stretched out before him like a vision of hell, all steel and smoke. The shriek of steel and against steel and the screams of steel against flesh, rending souls from bodies, drowned out the rasping of his breath and the pounding of his heart until he wasn’t certain they were even there.

The carefully drilled formations had disintegrated into graceless slaughter so that it was impossible to tell side from side, let alone which was emerging as the victor. Blood mixed with the smell of wet earth, newly tilled by battle, and of rain until Wolfram could taste it on his lips, unaware of the blood dripping down his face from his temple.

Somewhere in the confusion before him were Conrad and Yosak. Were they still fighting or had they already fallen? Were their uniforms soaked through with rain or with blood? Had they been separated from their men, like he had been, and trying to orientate themselves as he was?

Blood trickled between his parted, trembling lips and the young soldier doubled over, gagging and wrenching. The stench of death was all around him, thick as oil, drowning him and the bright guiding light called honor. There was no honorable death on a field of war. Wolfram learned that the moment he felt the sickening crunch as the face of some young cadet, human or mazoku he didn’t know, gave way beneath the heal of his boot.

Wolfram straightened, drooling. Men were being pushed towards the hill. A troupe was either being forced back towards their lines, or off in some direction not yet traveled. It didn’t matter; it was impossible to tell where they had originally formed their ranks. The proud banners of bright, bloody colors they had flown before them were lost somewhere in the churning sea of mud, trapped beneath the carcasses of fallen horses and the corpses of butchered men.

A battle cry to his left and Wolfram raised his sword arm, his body moving for him. The power of blade against blade sent shivers down Wolfram’s arm. He moved through the crush of men as the tidal wave of bodies broke over him, dancing and weaving and killing like an avenging angel. His fire settled warm and familiar in his palm a second before he let go.

An orange and red swept around him like Armageddon.

He smelled burning flesh.

He heard a scream on the howl of the wind.

He pressed forward.

When the flood calls
You have no home, you have no walls
In the thunder crash
You're a thousand minds, within a flash
Don't be afraid to cry at what you see
The actors gone, there's only you and me
And if we break before the dawn, they'll
use up what we used to be.

He didn’t remember the attack.

He had felt no pain, rather had only seen the quick glint of bronze and then the nothingness of the gray sky. Even now, he only felt the rain falling onto his cheeks, lips, and forehead. He wasn’t cold; he would have to feel his body in order to be cold.

There was no strength left in him to move, nor breath to shout. He stared up at the unending sky and the roiling of the storm clouds above until the living and dead had blurred together and he didn’t know which side he fell on, until he thought he had gone blind.

He blinked once, twice, darkness, and then Conrart’s face, haggard and relieved and terrified all at once. There was blood on his face from a slash in his cheek. His lips were moving quickly, but all Wolfram could think was that he wasn’t blind from the sky, after all.

A silver streak of lightening.

A crash of thunder.

Nothingness, and then…

Pain. Suffocating, searing agony like nothing he had ever felt before. Stabbing, pulling, burning, burning, until his throat and mouth were full and he was choking and a cacophony of voices was screaming words and orders and a name that might have been his. His mouth was empty again, but his lungs had forgotten how to breathe. ‘Dead’ and ‘alive’ drifted in vertigo as his eyes opened but showed him nothing but a blur of colors and shapes so intense that perhaps he had not opened his eyes at all. The a picture burning in a fire, pin holes appeared in his vision and quickly began growing, eating the colors in his sight like a cancer.

And just before the blackness came… a terrible cry was wrenched from the indecipherable roar.

“Wolfram!”

Lord, here comes the flood
We'll say goodbye to flesh and blood
If again the seas are silent
in any still alive
It'll be those who gave their island to survive
Drink up, dreamers, you're running dry.

The nothingness was familiar now, a weighty feeling, and the lingering in the embrace of sleep as the first pricks of consciousness descend. There was something soft beneath his torn body, something warm settled lightly above it, and the steady drip, drip, drip of something on his right hand.

Slowly Wolfram opened his eyes, surprised and not surprised to see the canopy of his bed above him and his dark fiancé beside him, cradling his hand and weeping without a sound. There were shadows as dark as bruises beneath his black eyes. His hair had grown longer and his face, thinner. A lifetime had etched itself onto his boyish face and Wolfram didn’t know what to do, not exactly certain yet whether he was still among the living or simply a restless spirit lingering in its mortal shell.

Wolfram’s hand twitched in Yuuri’s grasp and the double black looked up to where Wolfram knew his eyes were. Yuuri shuddered with a sob before pressing the hand he held against his lips and then his forehead, cradling it as though it would slip through his fingers like fine gains of sand.

Then he was apologizing. He was sorry, so sorry. It was all his fault and that if he hadn’t been such a naïve dreamer perhaps he could have found a way, found any way that would have better than what happened and, oh God, Wolfram, so close, what would he have done if he’d lost him?

And Wolfram listened silently over a song echoing across his memory that some old soldier had been singing the night before the battle, his voice weary and resigned. It had annoyed him, but Conrart’s hand resting heavily on his arm had stayed his tongue.

Wolfram weakly tugged against Yuuri’s hands and the double-black followed, coming to rest besides the soldier’s battered body. Yuuri’s arms fluttered uselessly, wanting to hold him close but afraid of causing the blond pain. “I’m so sorry,” he began again.

“Yuuri…”

His voice sounded strange, as though it wasn’t his own, but what was now? Stripped of his honor, who was ‘Wolfram’? What voice should he use? What was his purpose?

There was only one dream left within him, dim as an ember. Yuuri understood as he looked into his eyes and slowly closed the distance between their lips. It was timid and ardent, carrying with it the bitter remembrance of blood and dirt and the salt of hundreds of tears. Wolfram’s eyes shut slowly. He knew nothing, not whether or not they had won the war or if it was still continuing or the extent of his injuries. But as Yuuri’s trembling lips closed over his a second time, the unanswered questions faded away like nightmares in the daylight.

He had escaped the sea by casting off the heavy shackles of right and wrong, of dignity and duty that had bound him and come back to what mattered most in the world.

“I’m home.”

Lord, here comes the flood
We'll say goodbye to flesh and blood
If again the seas are silent
in any still alive
It'll be those who gave their island to survive
Drink up, dreamers, you're running dry.