It's not lol. It's lAl. And that makes no sense whatsoever. Moving on...
In honor of school being out in some places and really close to it in others (today's our district's last day, but I was done before that - final exemptions for the win), I demand that you find something that will make you laugh. An old TV show. A favorite YouTube video. Anything.
If you can't think of anything, I recommend the Evil Overlord List.
Have a great day, and start your summer with a laugh.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Cnidoblast
FreeRice is one of my favorite sites, as both a humanitarian and a writer. If you haven't been there yet, you answer vocab questions and for every one you get right, they donate 20 grains of rice to the UN World Food Program to end world hunger. Through a little knowledge of root words, minimal use of Dictionary.com, and a staggering amount of good luck, I've managed to reach level 47.
Around level 40, FreeRice runs out of world anyone will ever need to use and delves into the depths of scientific words, medical terms, and phrases that never before seen outside the pages of Jane Eyre. I've grapped with words I never heard of before (like copra, dried coconut meat), words I heard in conversation but didn't actually understand (like edification, education or betterment), even words that I needed to know for writing but never learned (like antipathetic, which is a good word to know when I have a character named Antipathy.) Sometimes it teaches me medical words I might never have heard otherwise (like axilla, meaning armpit), words that seem better suited to the perodic table of elements (like oroide, or false gold), and words that no one will ever use (like ghee, meaning clarified butter.) I've fought all these words and won to make it to level 47, and I've learned a lot about the ADD nature of the English langauge. However, I met my match when I came to this word.
Is it just me, or have the definition-writers developed a sense of humor?
Around level 40, FreeRice runs out of world anyone will ever need to use and delves into the depths of scientific words, medical terms, and phrases that never before seen outside the pages of Jane Eyre. I've grapped with words I never heard of before (like copra, dried coconut meat), words I heard in conversation but didn't actually understand (like edification, education or betterment), even words that I needed to know for writing but never learned (like antipathetic, which is a good word to know when I have a character named Antipathy.) Sometimes it teaches me medical words I might never have heard otherwise (like axilla, meaning armpit), words that seem better suited to the perodic table of elements (like oroide, or false gold), and words that no one will ever use (like ghee, meaning clarified butter.) I've fought all these words and won to make it to level 47, and I've learned a lot about the ADD nature of the English langauge. However, I met my match when I came to this word.
cnidoblast means:
- small explosion
- large explosion
- rash
- cell type
Is it just me, or have the definition-writers developed a sense of humor?
Overheard at Play Practice
Hey, it's Ink, posting for those who claim I never update.
cough-MIRI-cough.
Well, she's right. I plead mitigation--I was in the play Leader of the Pack and it siphoned away all my free time for both writing and blogging. However, we had a lot of fun and put on a fantastic show, so I'm not complaining. Anyway, we generated twice the amount of ridiculous comments as black belt camp, and therefore deserves another installment of 'overheards', with twice the sugary goodness.
I mean, um, quotes.
Anyway.
OVERHEARD AT PLAY PRACTICE
20. "Come back, I need to tickle you!"
19. "Maybe I WANT to bear your children."
18. "We are such dorks."
17. "I don't know who taught him how to flirt, but he needs a few more lessons."
16. "Hey, blond kid I dance with!"
15. "I'll bring the Jello shots."
14. "WHY CAN'T THE BOYS SHUT THE DOORS TO THEIR DRESSING ROOM?!"
13. "Zzzzzzzzzap!"
12. "Our baby ducks are all grown up."
11. "You can see the whole world in your eyes!"
10. "Aliens!"
9. "This dance is like a reverse striptease."
8. "This is so cute! Who did the choreography for this? Oh, yeah, me."
7. "You can never have enough powder."
6. "Time for the penguin dance."
5. "Somebody wrote 'Johnny is sexxy' on a piece of toilet paper and left it in the bathroom. Classy."
4. "If you wave to an audience member, I will cut your fingers off."
3. "Alli, Jill, and Heather singing this song? What was I thinking?"
2. "Enough with the slappy-butt happy-face!"
1. "I'm going to miss this play so much when it's over."
cough-MIRI-cough.
Well, she's right. I plead mitigation--I was in the play Leader of the Pack and it siphoned away all my free time for both writing and blogging. However, we had a lot of fun and put on a fantastic show, so I'm not complaining. Anyway, we generated twice the amount of ridiculous comments as black belt camp, and therefore deserves another installment of 'overheards', with twice the sugary goodness.
I mean, um, quotes.
Anyway.
OVERHEARD AT PLAY PRACTICE
20. "Come back, I need to tickle you!"
19. "Maybe I WANT to bear your children."
18. "We are such dorks."
17. "I don't know who taught him how to flirt, but he needs a few more lessons."
16. "Hey, blond kid I dance with!"
15. "I'll bring the Jello shots."
14. "WHY CAN'T THE BOYS SHUT THE DOORS TO THEIR DRESSING ROOM?!"
13. "Zzzzzzzzzap!"
12. "Our baby ducks are all grown up."
11. "You can see the whole world in your eyes!"
10. "Aliens!"
9. "This dance is like a reverse striptease."
8. "This is so cute! Who did the choreography for this? Oh, yeah, me."
7. "You can never have enough powder."
6. "Time for the penguin dance."
5. "Somebody wrote 'Johnny is sexxy' on a piece of toilet paper and left it in the bathroom. Classy."
4. "If you wave to an audience member, I will cut your fingers off."
3. "Alli, Jill, and Heather singing this song? What was I thinking?"
2. "Enough with the slappy-butt happy-face!"
1. "I'm going to miss this play so much when it's over."
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
The Project, or "It's Not Over Yet, Fools!"
I've been commanded to update the blog more often. It's a good habit to get into.
Cough-INK-cough.
So I was given an assignment in Lit class last week: represent a character from one of the works we've read this year...on a ceiling tile. I decided to take on two: Lucie Manette and Therese Defarge from Dickens's classic A Tale of Two Cities. While the book was difficult to read, the story was just amazing, and I love the striking contrasts between these two women.
And, because it turned out so well (honestly, I was floored, as I've never thought of myself as much of a painter), I posted pictures on the Internet. Check them out! See what you think.
I've also been brainstorming on The Queen's Architect. Current verdict: I didn't realize I had so many important characters. And I'm adding two more: Andrew and Rebekah, the apprentice and the betrothed. They're being quite nice about being dragged into this madness, and I love them already.
Cough-INK-cough.
So I was given an assignment in Lit class last week: represent a character from one of the works we've read this year...on a ceiling tile. I decided to take on two: Lucie Manette and Therese Defarge from Dickens's classic A Tale of Two Cities. While the book was difficult to read, the story was just amazing, and I love the striking contrasts between these two women.
And, because it turned out so well (honestly, I was floored, as I've never thought of myself as much of a painter), I posted pictures on the Internet. Check them out! See what you think.
I've also been brainstorming on The Queen's Architect. Current verdict: I didn't realize I had so many important characters. And I'm adding two more: Andrew and Rebekah, the apprentice and the betrothed. They're being quite nice about being dragged into this madness, and I love them already.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
For the Sake of Clarity
Good night, it's been a long time since we've updated. What have we been doing all this time?
(Despite that being a rhetorical question, I think I can say quantifiably: Performing in school shows and watching Death Note. Ah, the lives of writing dorks.)
BUT. My spring break started on Monday, March 31st. I got Ink to call me early, to get me out of bed. Once awake enough to see straight, I sat down at my computer and wrote for six hours solid. The Queen's Architect is a lovely (-cough) 58,000-word rough draft, and I'll be starting the rewrite within the next couple of weeks.
Thanks for all your support, and I hope we'll remember to update before another two months have passed.
(Despite that being a rhetorical question, I think I can say quantifiably: Performing in school shows and watching Death Note. Ah, the lives of writing dorks.)
BUT. My spring break started on Monday, March 31st. I got Ink to call me early, to get me out of bed. Once awake enough to see straight, I sat down at my computer and wrote for six hours solid. The Queen's Architect is a lovely (-cough) 58,000-word rough draft, and I'll be starting the rewrite within the next couple of weeks.
Thanks for all your support, and I hope we'll remember to update before another two months have passed.
Friday, February 22, 2008
Well-Worded Angst
Sunday, February 10, 2008
The Ten Stages of Anime Addiction
So, Ink and Miri are both pretty serious anime fans, though they both know people who are moreso. And they decided to look at it mathematically, as they're both broke-ish most of the time:
Naruto: 27 volumes currently available at $8 apiece for $216
Bleach: 23 volumes currently available at $8 apiece for $184
Fruits Basket: 18 volumes currently available at $10 apiece for $180
That’s the Big Three for a total of $580. And that's just the start.
This ballooned into a full-blown analysis of anime addiction. All this is based on the generalization that the Subject has a steady source of income and/or inherited Bill Gates's fortune, so there'll be some variation between this list and any number of real scenarios. Still, we think it's a pretty good generalization.
First stage: Big Three. Given most people’s interest specificity, we’re also going to assume that you’ll only be drawn to two of the three. You saw one episode on television, became interested, and realized they were books. You have yet to lay down any cash.
Second stage: Killing Trees. Bought two of the big three on your own and were referred to the third by a friend (because by now, you’ve met up with other anime fans). You’ve also started watching other ones, including original English language shows and super-popular-in-Japan shows that aren’t necessarily mainstream in the U.S.. You’ve also started learning Japanese honorifics in order to keep characters straight.
Third stage: Getting Digital. You have at least DVD of either one of the Big Three or one of the anime standards and listen to anime openings and endings. You’ve memorized at least one theme in Japanese and could give a rough translation if pressed.
Fourth stage: On Spec. Laying down money on faith, browsing bookstores instead of going straight for the books you know you want. Learning basic Japanese and could probably write your name in it with some kind of proficiency. You’ve also begun dabbling in cosplay and have probably attended at least one con. You’re also buying merchandise from your personal faves and anyone who comes in your room could tell at a glance who your top three characters are.
Fifth stage: Fully Hooked. Your wardrobe is taking a decidedly anime turn, including two or three T-shirts, several Naruto headbands, and a wristband or two. You’ve subscribed to Shonen Jump and one of the other fandom magazines. Now you are becoming a manga pusher yourself. Anyone who sets foot in your house watches at least one episode of Naruto before they leave (including door-to-door salesmen) and you completely deny that Zhao/Jet/Hughes/Ray Penbar is dead, even though you saw them get drowned/pummeled/shot/heart attack’d.
Sixth stage: Old Friends, New Obsessions. You’re watching two hours minimum of anime each day in a crazy mixture of online and TV that you recorded at 2:30 in the morning. You have two or three friends, maybe, who aren’t anime fans—the resilient buggers. You have developed a passionate loyalty to at least one major-league voice actor, and your budding interest in all things Japanese has led you to at least one (rather mainstream) video game.
Seventh stage: Borderline Stalker. You can give a brief biography of every voice actor in Fullmetal Alchemist and at least two other shows, including parts they auditioned for but didn’t actually get. You can quote anything long and quote-worthy from at least four different shows and can recognize nine of ten shows on Cartoon Network based on a single frame (and probably give the context of the frame). You have a DVD library and re-watch whole series on a whim. Also, your collection of manga would put most independent bookstores to shame.
Eighth stage: And Culture, Too. You can speak Japanese with a decent amount of fluency and read both kana scripts as well as you do the English alphabet. You are an amateur manga-ka and know what that means. You have stopped making up your own sentences: you simply tailor anime quotes to fit your conversational needs. Any tan your skin once had was replaced by a pallor of midnight YouTube anime binges.
Ninth stage: You’ve met one of your favorite manga-ka on a visit to a con (and salivated all over him or her). Your house is a shrine to an obscure anime character who only lasted twelve episodes. Your mother refers to you not by your name, but as "Anime Zombie."
Tenth stage: You’ve moved to Japan.
Next week (or, let's be honest, whenever we get around to it) we'll mathematically compare the cost of an anime/manga habit versus other habits. Like coffee. Or crack.
Naruto: 27 volumes currently available at $8 apiece for $216
Bleach: 23 volumes currently available at $8 apiece for $184
Fruits Basket: 18 volumes currently available at $10 apiece for $180
That’s the Big Three for a total of $580. And that's just the start.
This ballooned into a full-blown analysis of anime addiction. All this is based on the generalization that the Subject has a steady source of income and/or inherited Bill Gates's fortune, so there'll be some variation between this list and any number of real scenarios. Still, we think it's a pretty good generalization.
First stage: Big Three. Given most people’s interest specificity, we’re also going to assume that you’ll only be drawn to two of the three. You saw one episode on television, became interested, and realized they were books. You have yet to lay down any cash.
Second stage: Killing Trees. Bought two of the big three on your own and were referred to the third by a friend (because by now, you’ve met up with other anime fans). You’ve also started watching other ones, including original English language shows and super-popular-in-Japan shows that aren’t necessarily mainstream in the U.S.. You’ve also started learning Japanese honorifics in order to keep characters straight.
Third stage: Getting Digital. You have at least DVD of either one of the Big Three or one of the anime standards and listen to anime openings and endings. You’ve memorized at least one theme in Japanese and could give a rough translation if pressed.
Fourth stage: On Spec. Laying down money on faith, browsing bookstores instead of going straight for the books you know you want. Learning basic Japanese and could probably write your name in it with some kind of proficiency. You’ve also begun dabbling in cosplay and have probably attended at least one con. You’re also buying merchandise from your personal faves and anyone who comes in your room could tell at a glance who your top three characters are.
Fifth stage: Fully Hooked. Your wardrobe is taking a decidedly anime turn, including two or three T-shirts, several Naruto headbands, and a wristband or two. You’ve subscribed to Shonen Jump and one of the other fandom magazines. Now you are becoming a manga pusher yourself. Anyone who sets foot in your house watches at least one episode of Naruto before they leave (including door-to-door salesmen) and you completely deny that Zhao/Jet/Hughes/Ray Penbar is dead, even though you saw them get drowned/pummeled/shot/heart attack’d.
Sixth stage: Old Friends, New Obsessions. You’re watching two hours minimum of anime each day in a crazy mixture of online and TV that you recorded at 2:30 in the morning. You have two or three friends, maybe, who aren’t anime fans—the resilient buggers. You have developed a passionate loyalty to at least one major-league voice actor, and your budding interest in all things Japanese has led you to at least one (rather mainstream) video game.
Seventh stage: Borderline Stalker. You can give a brief biography of every voice actor in Fullmetal Alchemist and at least two other shows, including parts they auditioned for but didn’t actually get. You can quote anything long and quote-worthy from at least four different shows and can recognize nine of ten shows on Cartoon Network based on a single frame (and probably give the context of the frame). You have a DVD library and re-watch whole series on a whim. Also, your collection of manga would put most independent bookstores to shame.
Eighth stage: And Culture, Too. You can speak Japanese with a decent amount of fluency and read both kana scripts as well as you do the English alphabet. You are an amateur manga-ka and know what that means. You have stopped making up your own sentences: you simply tailor anime quotes to fit your conversational needs. Any tan your skin once had was replaced by a pallor of midnight YouTube anime binges.
Ninth stage: You’ve met one of your favorite manga-ka on a visit to a con (and salivated all over him or her). Your house is a shrine to an obscure anime character who only lasted twelve episodes. Your mother refers to you not by your name, but as "Anime Zombie."
Tenth stage: You’ve moved to Japan.
Next week (or, let's be honest, whenever we get around to it) we'll mathematically compare the cost of an anime/manga habit versus other habits. Like coffee. Or crack.
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