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My Curse (that sounds like a bad TV drama)

 So.  Some of you might not know this, but I am under a curse.  I'm serious.  Like, it's funny (kind of) but it's true. 

I'll tell the story as best I can:

[lj-cut text="CLICK HERE BECAUSE IF YOU CAN THEN THAT MEANS I LEARNED HOW TO DO THAT LINK THING"] Ok. So when I was really young, and I mean REALLY young, you have to understand this, I wasn't just stupid- my favorite books were Little House on the Prarie (that wasn't what made me stupid) and my favorite character was Laura.  Like, I wanted to BE Laura.  I might have had a bit of a crush on her or something, but anyway, I was desperately worried that she was going to die.  You have to understand that what I read at this time was A Wrinkle in Time, The Chronicles of Narnia, Magic Tree House, and Cardcaptor Sakura.  I just couldn't fathom that someone had written about their own life when it was so possible to just make something up, and I didn't really get that whole 'passage of time' thing so I didn't see the world in that age to be real.

Anyway, I had just finished A Wrinkle in Time and my mom, apparently forgetting the story, had told me that Charles Wallace died.  And Charles Wallace was my all time favorite, I was planning on naming babies after him and everything, so I cried and sobbed and read through, always thinking he was about to die and everything.  But he didn't.  However, after that, I started becoming obsessed with Little House books, and I kept reading them, and I remembered the fear and started becoming terrified that Laura, my favorite, was going to die.  So, when my mom took me out to look at shooting stars I basically wished "I don't care about any other characters in any other books, I just want this one favorite character to not die."

And then, when I read Lord of the Rings, Gollum died.

And when I read the more serious CLAMP, (though admittedly I didn't finish any of it because of an interrupting obsession) Subaru suffered AND died.  

And when I read Hellboy comics, Roger died.

And when I saw Hellboy 2, my next obsession after that, and the twins didn't get the original incredible amount of plot development Gulliermo Del Toro was planning on giving them and had told me personally he was planning on giving them (he had a forum up for a while that he responded to questions on, and I don't know if I'm right or wrong but I do believe it was really him), and THEN THEY DIED.

And I read Looking For Alaska and Alaska died.

I read Boy Bebop and got attached to a character who was already dead, and then I also got really attached to a boy who denied himself so his step father wouldn't murder him and decided to hate the boy he loved and spend his entire life miserable in the place where the American Dream becomes realized as a bunch of lies and pretending he's something he's not and hating himself to the very core for being in love with a boy who won't speak to him anymore and is currently happy with another boy.

Time Traveler's wife and yet again it happened.

And I read The Archivist and Matthias died.  AND T. S. Eliot, though I saw that one coming.

I think you guys see where this is going, actually.  Allot more come after that, but I won't bore you.

But the weirdest yet has been an obsession I had a little bit back- Harry Potter.  
In the first book, I didn't really have any strong opinions but I wanted to be Quirrelle's*sp friend because I thought he looked lonely.  In the second book I literally did not have an actual favorite character or anyone I cared about, I read it because my friend made me.  In the third book the favorite character of Sirius was introduced.  In the fourth book I thought "Cedric is handsome and nobel and from Hufflepuff, which is the house i think I would be in.  Plus he's less angsty than Harry.  I think I'd support him more than Harry if I was at Hogwarts, but I wouldn't wear a 'Potter Stinks' badge.  And then there you go, he died.  In the fifth book I was all "Hyuu! though I didn't say Hyuu, I hadn't read Tsubasa yet Sirius Black is back!  I love him!"  Then there we go.  In the sixth book I got attached to Dumbledoor because he was getting so much time, and I was like, in love with Lupin and started feeling sorry for Tonks.  And I kind of wanted to be her.  I mean seriously, her hair is awesome.  Anyway, my three favorite characters- Dumbledoor, Lupin, and Tonks.  Dumbledoor died, but I can't say I wasn't expecting it.  And then in the next book, I basically went:  Screw this.  All my favorite characters ALWAYS die because of the freaking curse.  Well, not this time, Fate!  And then my favorite characters were four:  Lupin, Mad-eye, Tonks, and Dobby.

So yeah.

Every obsession I have had where someone does die, and I very, very rarely have even a small obsession where everyone escapes scot-free, my favorite characters die.  In Boy Bebop, to be fair, one character was already dead and the other merely suffered for the rest of his life.

Currently, my obsession is The Tsubasa/Holic story, mainly Tsubasa.  My favorite characters, though I honestly tried not to have any, are Kurogane and Fai.  I don't know which one I like more, though I normally say my favorite is Fai.  But all my fanfiction is normally about Kurogane.

The thing is though, if both of them survive and have at least a relatively good ending, that's it.  That is literally the first time since Little House, and I don't know what that means.  But, just so you know, and believe me, I'm sorry about this- they probably will die.  And before anyone says anything, I know it's all in my head.  Not the curse, that's real, lol.  But I know reality does not shift because I have a favorite character.  In all likelihood I just love underdogs too much.  To an extreme, predicting the end of books point.  So yeah.  I'm sorry, Kurogane and Fai fans, if they do die.  I'm just warning you.


Sorry!  ^_^'

Um... here!



The Most Random Post You'll Ever Read

 Well, I just got back from my trip!  Which means I am cracking down on all the fics I've promised to edit and put up for like, forever.  However, first I'm going to procrastinate and say several very, very random things.

1)  Oshima?  i think that's how you spell his name, I don't remember- awesome he/she (she said in the kindest way) knower of ALL THINGS, the most fascinating character in this book, utterly a witness, and totally going to die.  I haven't reached the end of the book yet, I'm just about to the part with Oshima (damn, I just know I'm spelling this wrong) pwned these two insensate women who were spouting nonsense to him.  I was just cracking up, and if you've read Kafka on the Shore you know what I mean.

2)  I went skinny dipping.  Why, you might ask?  Because I damn well felt like it.  And I knew I'd regret being chicken later if I didn't.  Then of course my sister pulled the oldest trick in the book and grabbed my swimsuit and swam away to shore with it.  So there I was, naked, out in the ocean with all these kids and parents and older men and my granparents and step mother further in.  And my sisters, cracking up and rolling around in the whites.  I did eventually get it back though, thank god.

3)  It is actually possible to smoke Pocky.  

And that's it.  I hope you've enjoyed your spring break, and that it was more... sane than mine was.  Actually, I don't.  Insanity is good for you.

Five Things!

 Well, I saw this on another site, and I liked it.  And so...
If anyone wants a little snapshot of my life, my littlest sister just walked in with a monster slice of cake bigger than her head that is covered, and I mean seriously drowned, in chocolate syrup.  And it's almost midnight too.  And she's only 9.  Huh.  Weird.

Anyway!  Back to this-  

In your comment, anyone who reads this can say five things they associate me with.  And I'll give you five things I associate you with.

Comment to this post and I will give you 5 subjects/things I associate you with. Then post this in your LJ and elaborate on the subjects given.

 Damn, now she's pouring a huge glass of milk.  I wonder where all this food goes.

Oh- and because I haven't mentioned CLAMP's work for about a day- the song Boats and Birds reminds me of Tomoyo in a way that makes me very sad but happy.  There's an MMV for Tomoyo and Sakura with that song on youtube, anyone who knows what I'm talking about at all should look it up.
 I'm going to sound like some kind of cult member of Christian who has newly found god and religion, but bear with me.

I have just finished reading the best book I have read in a long time.  And I don't mean a good book as in there were pairings I liked, I don't mean a good book in which it was something I'd want to live.  I mean it was a brilliant book in a way that books rarely are.

I'm serious.  I read it within 24 hours, and about a quarter of the way through it I had to stop and close it, keeping my finger inside the pages so I wouldn't loose my place, and I just thought:  This book is going to change me.

I'm not sure if it has.  It might have.

For those of you that haven't read it, do so now.  I'm serious.  It is just so... I don't even know.  The word that comes to mind is 'true.'  'Honest.'  Even with the painful bits, and even with the happy bits.  Authors tend to be romantacists or realists, or at least what they think of those as.  Realists (cough John Steinbeck cough) tend to see each negative thing in the world and gather these separate tragedies like they're playing cards that they plan to show off to all their friends.  In their work, the good in the world is sucked out or only used to illustrate how much worse what happens next is.  Romantacists, on the other hand, take the good and lovely things in the world and try to perfect them.  If a woman is described, her skin is perfect.  Her hair is soft, and her smile is beautiful enough to be painted.  Everything is paper and beautiful, and so very fake at times it makes it all quite depressing.  

The Perks of Being a Wallflower is neither.  I have read so very few books like it, and they are my favorite kinds.  In Stephen Chbosky's phenomenal story, beauty is described as the bright thing in the darkness.  A girl the main character loves does not have eyes that are lined with stress or eyes that are luminescent.  He himself describes them as eyes that are a simple green, not one that calls attention to itself.  The people are all flawed and kind in their own way, they feel pain and can be brought down and it takes as long as makes sense for them to be brought back up again.  Pain is illustrated in this story so well that the reader can actually RELATE to the characters, a goal that seems lost to many.  Pain and humiliation are sharp and brutal, but instead of being shown as dominante or a catalyst to have some characters come together and hook up or something, these bits are simply part of life.  Good things follow because they must, because that is the way the world works and Stephen Chbosky knows it.

The story is even packed with brilliant movie and book and song recommendations.  I know they're awesome, because many of them I've already watched/read/heard.

For those who have already read The Perks of Being a Wallflower- I have to tell this one story, because you'll know vaguely what I'm talking about.  I think.

When I was in  Middle School, my friends and I started this group called "The Writer's Group."  The true purpose of this organization quickly died away as it became more of a social thing for the people who, and I honest to god do not mean this in a self satisfied way, had grown up more than the people who still gave a damn what anyone else thought of them.  We did a ton of things- we acted out plays, we went exploring, we tried certain things that everyone tries when they're young, we listened to this one guy in writer's group assure us almost weekly that he was straight... basically, that was it.  Our meeting room was this one history teacher's class room, but he always left because... well, we made up quite a few reasons why.  The standing one seemed to be that he was having a dramatic affair with the Math teacher which started when they tried to combine the two opposite logics of their subjects.  

Anyway, after a while, we realized that there was this boy who had been coming for help class every day after school for the last few group meetings.  He didn't seem to do anything, he just did the extra credit work and watched us.  He was always watching us, and we had never really noticed.  So I leaned in and said quietly to my friend Anne "Hey, there's a boy over there who's been watching us for a while."  and Anne, because she was hyper and crazy like that, shouted "It's a witness!"  and pointed right at him.

Basically, we introduced ourselves, and he looked at us with huge eyes and told us his real name, which we ignored.  Because his name was now Witness.  And he started going to Writer's Group, and doing crazy things with us, and rampaging through the woods behind our school and everything- but he didn't talk to us in class.  He would hover behind these other groups.  He wouldn't especially join in their conversations either though.  However, when he did talk, he seemed to know everything.  Not about the world, but about us.  About EVERYONE, because he was always watching and listening to everything go by.  

He's not friends with us anymore.  He stopped going to Writer's Group.  I feel kind of guilty.

The Crucible and Devilish Homosexuals

 Before this post (and yet again i am being too lazy to find out how to make the posts into a link), I first need to tell you this.

This is how you say "I am a devilish homosexual." in Japanese:  Watashi mashou no homo.

Though that can also be "I am a magical homosexual."

Yep.  I've been reading Antique Bakery, on the recomendation of a friend.

Moving on!


For the past, like, forever, I have been working on this play called The Crucible.  I played the part of Abby (if I am to believe me director, I actually did it very well.  ^///^) and basically The Crucible sucked free time from my day like a giant... free time sucker from a day.  Forgive me, I'm tired.  Oh!  Like a giant leach on a... something... what's it called when your blood doesn't clot?  Like a leach on someone whose blood doesn't clot.  Though I bet that's horrible somehow, but I'm just not seeing it because I'm tired.

Anyway, while I was in The Crucible, I got to enjoy saying lines such as these:

"If any of you breath a word, or the edge of a word... i will come for you, in the black of some terrible night, and I will bring with me a pointy reckoning that will SHUDDER YOU!"

"Why-" *gulp* "Why do you come, yellow bird?"

And, my personal favorite:

"I know how you clutched my back behind your house and sweated like a stallion whenever I came near!"

Yep.  I'm going to miss everyone in that play so much, especially my sweaty little stallion.  Oh, John Proctor.  I'm so sorry I basically kill you by the end.

So yeah.  It's over.  In our final performance we had about 50 people, I managed to remember all my lines but felt awkward because my Grandmother was watching as I clutched an older man, and Tituba skipped three pages of basically her own lines and many other peoples.  Her part didn't really make sense after that, but no one seemed to notice.  I believe my little brother, who was aloud to come for the final performance, talked the entire time.

Well, that's all for now duckies!  I promise to learn how to make my posts into a little link, really I do.

Words, words, words

 Hello, Wallpaper here with the announcement- I hate the word bisexual.
I've kind of been stuck on this rant for a while now, haven't I?  Well, I go through phases of obsession.  So sue me.

But really, I hate that word.  Two-sexual.  It makes me sound as though I'm some kind of sex crazed wing nut who desires anything that walks upright on two legs, and that's basically what people (in particular, certain members of my family, in case anyone wants to know what sparked this rant) hear when I say the word bisexual.  That suddenly I desire all, be it something with a penis or something with boobs.  They don't hear that I'm open to whatever gender if I ever fall in love.  Suddenly, they think about rapists and child molesters and perverts.  If I were to persue any of these various horrors, suddenly I'm one who would go after all.  Women who are related to me suddenly fear that I will develop an attraction for them simply because it's possible for me to love someone from their gender.  

And you know, in all these sob stories they have out there about gays not being accepted in their families, I've never read one about the slight unacceptence.  Perhaps a father who, when he learns about his son's homosexuality, tells him with a glittering smile that it doesn't matter, even leans in to hug him, but that's the thing- he leans.  He's careful, suddenly.  He wears a shirt in the pool.  He leaves public urinals if his son is there.  He only kisses his son on the top of his head.  The talks about the future in the love department suddenly vanish- any accidental slip about children or marriage leave embarrassed silences as the father says "oops, I mean, sudden subject change!" despite the existence of life partners and adoption.

And that's just it- I hate the word bisexual.  It always sounded like a lie when it fell off my tongue anyway, and I couldn't understand why.  I knew that it was possible for me to love someone of either gender, I'd known for my entire life, but the word just seemed wrong.  And that's just it- it is.

Based on what I've heard, allot of people seem to be attracted to pretty much anyone who's attractive from whatever gender they're attracted to.  With me though, anyone attractive of either gender could strip right in front of me and I swear to god I would not feel a thing.  I'd probably be laughing that a random stranger had decided to strip in front of me, to be honest.  That's just it.  It doesn't seem to me that other people are like this, but I can honestly say I am only sexually attracted to another person if I, to put it in grade school terms, like-like them for their personality.  

I have been attracted to very few people in my life, actually.  It's kind of sad.  I had a boyfriend who confessed his love to me the day I was planning to break up with him because I didn't like him that way, I realized a bit too late.  I don't know what it is, I just like-like very few people.  But when people hear the word 'bisexual' they assume I like-like everybody.  It's really not fair. 

You know what?  I've decided- I'm not bisexual.  I'm not gay.  I'm not straight.


whooot, hippie power!

on another note, I really need to learn how to put my actual posts on that little thing you click on to reach it so that I won't crowd anyone's friend pages.  Despite having been here for a while, Livejournal basically remains a mystery to me.  I've had people explain to me how to do it, but I haven't gone as far as trying now, and right now I'm too tired. ^_^'

and I need to stop saying "actually" and "that's just it" so often in my rants.



Tee hee!


 This'll be a short post, but I'm hoping it's kind of Abe Lincoln-e in that it uses little words to say much.

I was recently in another an argument with a racist/nazi/fundamentalist/homophobe, and without even thinking about it I responded to one stupid comment about where I was going after I died with this:

"If what you say, in some psychotic way, is actually true and when I die God will pinch me up disgustedly between his fingers and scream "BISEXUAL NONCHRISTIAN WHORE!" and thrown me down into the pits of hell despite all the good I'm planing to do in my life, but lift up you, who has done nothing but think you're better than everyone throughout your entire life, and allow you past those pearly gates, I gotta me honest here: I'd rather be in hell with it's variety of religions, ethnicities, orientations and people than up in heaven with all you creepy white racists."

and then I flounced off, and he yelled "Yeah, well, I'll see you on that day!" kind of 'child loosing in a tantrum' ly.

It was pretty awesome.  I was very proud of myself, and then I ran home to my computer to type it up so I'd remember that accomplishment always.




 Well, I realized that I hadn't posted in what seemed like forever (hm, how many days has it been?  3?  4?) so with a sense of guilt that I suppose really doesn't make sense, i come to you now with a random and pretty useless post about icons.

I have so many.

They're saved in a little folder on my computer, each titled with something vague because all of them have to do with- if not Tsubasa, CLAMP in general except one about gay rights I think somewhere in there.  So I'm switching my old icon to this one, which is basically the same thing only better because you can actually see something that is going on.  

Then there's these ^_^  :

I just love Himawari. 
those last two should have been in reverse. XD
     and that's not even all of them.  Just the ones that I like the best that happen to be at the top.  There's more buried somewhere in there.  

Well, that's all.

Oh, but one more thing: Has anyone noticed that it seems to be every other post is about Tsubasa?

I mean, I know I'm obsessed, but I just thought I should clear up that fanfiction dot net and livejournal are simply the places I talk about Tsubasa.  I'm not that obsessed.

Tiny voice in head: LIAR! 

Me: shut up!  shut up!


Oscar Wilde, Me or the Wallpaper, Wallpaper

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