Nov. 23rd, 2011 08:22 pm
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Guild Wars: Mesmer: The Dress-up Game is coming along nicely- I'm around halfway done with the lineart for the clothes if not a bit further, and I've done all the hairstyles.  Tremendous fun.

Kidney hurts.  Worrisome.

I feel like I've made progress with the anxiety stuff thanks to the thing in Chapel Hill- not so much that I don't get anxious or panicky, but that I can work through it better.

Thanksgiving at granny's tomorrow.  Large number of extended relatives shoud be there.

Played "Overlord" DLC for Mass Effect, and wanted really, really badly to kill the scummy ablist scientist, but sadly this was not an option and I had to settle for Paragon!pistol whipping, which was a bit unlike my powers-reliant Shepard but still an excellent moment.  Do video games make me violent?  Unlikely.  I have been fantasizing about hitting scummy people with various weapons since a very early age, and have yet to purposefully act on those feelings.  (Did once hit my brother with a large stick, but that was by accident and I wasn't mad at him at the time).


Aug. 6th, 2009 08:43 pm
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Brother just called sister a bitch.

Need comfort now.
siamesa: (Default)
I feel cheerful, for the most part.  News, from the day, in no particular order:

1.  Am arguing with little brother.  Not good.  This is what happens when the little sister is out of the house.

2. Yet another person is claiming Harry Potter plagiarized their stuff.  Question: Are they as completely insane as the last one?

3. Someone has just said that Robin was the worst thing ever to happen to comics, and insulted the Batman and Sons webcomic.  On Scans_Daily, home of LOOK IT IS DICK GRAYSON ISN'T HE CUTE IN THAT DEATHTRAP FANGIRL LUFF.  Am monitering situation closely.  It most probably won't escalate beyond two or three polite comments, but I'm monitering it anyway.

4. We have located my cat's collar.


Overall, I'm in a pretty good mood, then.  Will do something nice for little brother later, though.
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Dad has pneumonia.  He is required to stay in bed until at least Monday.  This should be interesting.

Have I talked about my dad?  No?  He's a lawyer, with a strong work ethic and a stronger sense of "I am right you are wrong," though, to his credit, he usually is.  He's a pretty awesome dad as dads go.

But he is not the sort of person who can just stay in bed all day when he has important things such as WORK to be doing.

I suppose it would be mean to tease him.

Back Home!

Apr. 19th, 2009 04:17 pm
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Today we returned from the mountains!  It was a weekend of hiking.

Daddy and I hiked for four hours yesterday along a ridge, down into a valley with a creek, and back up onto and down the ridge.  It was strenous, it was tiring, but I managed to have a nice conversation with my father outside of Davidson/Panthers seasons, and that is always an accomplishment.

(Plus we ate lunch at the top of a waterfall on the creek, and aside from the orange trying to escape to the swimming hole below, it was very wonderful.  We must return there with the rest of the family when it is actually warm enough to swim at the bottom.)

Today, we did some more hiking, along- I kid y'all not- Darkside Cliffs. 


That name really inspires confidence.

The view from the top was excellent, and the hike itself was pretty easy, but I really don't want the names of my trails to include either "Darkside" or "Cliffs".
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(I'm just saying that maybe Not Having Friends was much easier because I didn't have to worry that I was being all clingy and Doing Everything Wrong and the only problems I had to worry about were mine.)

But enough of that.

In an attempt to get my mind onto a somewhat less depressing topic, I shall now babble on about some more of my family's pets- the guinea pigs, Teddy and George.

Our first guinea pig was named Spot.  He was black and white and very friendly, and lived in a large cage in my little brother's room, which he enjoyed running around in when he wasn't playing outside, eating, or sleeping.  I had been very skeptical of the idea of a guinea pig at the time- I suspected it would be like the class hampsters from school, spending all of its time as a sleeping lump of fur. 

But Spot had personality.  He eventually won me over when he learned to "wheek" at the top of his lungs whenever he heard the refridgerator open- hopefully, it was Carrot Time!

Spot died a few years ago, and was missed.  Eventually, we decided that we did not have enough small furry things in our house, and so ended up with two more, Teddy and George.  We're fairly sure that they're brothers, as they look almost identical and actually get along.  They, too, have learned that an opening refridgerator could signal carrots.

(I really have no idea what to say.  I haven't been in a real social situation comfortably for years and I don't think that people want to talk to me so when they do I say nothing because if I say anything I'm being pushy and overstepping boundaries and so no one talked to me anymore because I didn't start conversations and now that people are trying again I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO."

So I talk about my pets. 


This really wasn't supposed to be an Angst Post.  That tag is too big.)
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Anyway, tomorrow, my family and I drive to Atlanta for our annual Trip To A Major US City.  So far, we've done Boston, Chicago, Savannah, Baltimore, San Antonio, Philledelphia? Philly, and Memphis.  Mostly we fly, but as I suffer from a crippling fear of airplanes, I managed to convince mom that driving this year would be fun.

Spring break!  Yay! 

All the trips have had highlights.  San Antonio had incredible food (and, on the way over, a pilot who talked far, far too much and not generally in a truly reassuring way).  Chicago meant I got to drag my parents to the American Girl Place with my American Girl Dolls (and I am never flying through or near O'Hare again.  Ever.)  In Philly, we got to attend opening day of the Phillies baseball team (they lost, abut my cousin decided to become "Philly Man," who got his powers by eating cheesesteaks).  Both Boston and Baltimore had ducklings.

Memphis had Graceland.  Actually visiting the place where Elvis lived seemed to be the highlight of my little brother's life.  For the next several months, he sang the various songs he had memorized whenever possible.  Also he purchased a light up Elvis sign for his room.  We considered getting one of my uncles who refused to come along an Elvis jumpsuit, but decided against it after seeing the prices and thinking that $200 was a bit much for something he would probably ceremonially burn.

But it was fun.  Vacations are among the times me and my relatives genuinely get along.  A couple of years ago when we spent three weeks in Nova Scotia, we became a united front against the Evil Biting Flies and my siblings actually followed my orders. 

But my family is crazy.  I say this in order to share a fascinating story.  Once upon a time in the late eighteen hundreds, some siblings were orphaned.  One went to live with relatives in Charleston.  Today, his descendants own large amounts of stock in oil companies and one of those houses shown on carriage tours.

The other one stayed on the farm.  He raised cows.

He, of course, was the one who became my great great grandfather.

This interesting tale of fate was discovered, I think, by the same relative who discovered that we're also distantly related to Abe Lincoln.  I have no idea what the myriad Robert Lee *Insert Last Name Here* s in my family think of this, but to be honest I don't care.

Abe Lincoln!  Awesome!
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My family has had, since my parents were married in '89, four cats.  The first was Magdalene.  A few months after my parents were married, they got a tabby kitten from the shelter.  Mom claims it was a mutual decision, but Dad's story is that she mentioned "we should get a cat," he said "sure, sometime," and came home from work that evening to find the kitten already making itself at home.

Mags tolerated us all for nineteen years (I'm fifteen, by the way.) and is greatly missed.

She also may or may not have been a diabolical evil mastermind. We still aren't clear on this point.

When I was five, I got a kitten of my very own, Princess.  She was gray and black mottled and my absolute darling.  Mom and I were the only creatures she tolerated.  She purred for no one else, but she slept on my pillow at night.  She began the tradition of  my personal cats being greatly beloved by me and warily avoided by most others.  She also inspired a fear that lasts to this day of cats who twirl around my ankles, because while twirling she would bite.

Princess had a game of teasing anything that moved, and asserting her superiority over the car by meandering in front of it.  She tried this one dark evening and misjudged.

My sister occasionally jokes about Tai and cars.  These are the few occasions when she actually will be apologetic for something she has said.

Tai, of course, was and is the next cat.  He is my baby, a big, loud Siamese, the inspiration for my username, and Leaver of the One Fingered Glove.  I love him.  He has a terrible fear of cars, and this is what finally convinced me that it was alright for him to wander outside.  What convinced my mom was the destruction of our furniture.  Like Mags and Princess before him, Tai is an indoor-outdoor creature who spends most of his time attempting to rule the neighborhood.  Unlike them, he is somewhat inept at this, which is not to say he's not one of the smartest cats I've ever met.  This is a cat that figured out multiple ways to open doors.

After the death of Magdalene, we aquired Delilah, who is now almost a year old.  She is tiny, orange-yellow, and completely and utterly spoiled rotten yet still genuinely sweet.  Like Magdalene, she is named for a Biblical bad girl.  This is apparently a fairly common naming theme for cats.

I tend to greet new aquantainces with a funny cat story.  If they do not run screaming away, I know we are going to be friends.  (I have few friends).  And one of the best sources for these was Magdalene.

Magdalene was frighteningly smart.  Looking in her eyes could be eerie, because there was something looking back at you, and you got the feeling that it was wondering... well, heaven only knows what she was wondering.  It probably wasn't good.  Anyway, Mags could figure things out.  Among them, back when my parents were newlyweds with no kids, was how to be the exact center of attention.  (We have several lovely baby pictures of her "getting used to the idea of Elizabeth.")  One all-important part of this task was waking my parents up.  When Dad was home,this was easy.  It was merely nessesary to knock various items such as his giant hornrimmed glasses off of the bedside table.

When Mom was home alone, this was more difficult.  Mere property destruction could not always rouse Mom quickly   Finally, the kitten figured out that if she sat on Dad's clock radio, and wiggled around enough, eventually it would turn on to the blaring news channel dad had set as his alarm.

This would awaken Mom.

Coming Whenever I'm Next Bored:  The evil text-book eating rabbits from outer space!  The dog who remained lazy even after her medical problem was cured!  I swear those guinea pigs are looking at me funny!

siamesa: (Default)

And I Do Not Understand Them.

This is best illustrated with a group of four cousins- me, the oldest, a proud and self-proclaimed nerd who spends her spare time writing fan fiction about people in spaceships.  My little sister, the socialite-in-Hollister who considers us all a hideous embarassment.  My cousin, who plays electric guitar and wears black.  And my little brother, Mostly Likely At His Elementary School To Build A Working Jet Engine.

We get along in the sense that we constantly toss quips at each other and make fun of the various hobbies we have.  My cousin and I both enjoy watching MST3K, so we can talk about that.  My sister and I both... um... yeah...  I'm sure we have something in common.  Animals!  We both like animals.  Even if she hates my cat and her rabbits chew on my things.  And my little brother and I get along due to the nessecity of banding together to survive living with my sister.  He also likes Star Wars and Avatar, so he fulfills all the important requirements for a little brother, plus bonus guinea pigs.

But I had a decent conversation with them!  We could discuss things!  Such as shipping.  And why sister and cousin have radically different tastes in music.

Sister:  Paramore is awesome!
Cousin:  Paramore's OK.  Better than most of your stuff...  Now, Gogol Bordello, that's a band...
Sister: Gigilo?
Cousin:  Gogol Bordello!
Me: Go Go Bordello?
Cousin: GOGOL!   You do this every time I say their name!

Gosh, I wonder why...

For the record, I have about equal opinions of both bands.  This goes for most music with me.  As long as I can make a little music video in my mind, I'm happy.


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