Sick and Tired

Well, I'm running a low fever and seem to have developed a fairly substantial cough overnight. So what did I manage to do with my afternoon? Well, after doing some school, I wandered about the world wide web for a while, but wasn't feeling too enthused about anything and nearly fell asleep. Since there are about 45 pictures I want to develope and scrapbook, I decided to organize and transfer them to a CD to take into Walgreens (I have yet to try the online route). Unable to access the photos in the program I usually use, I started rumaging around all our various software and found what I thought was the right program; it wasn't, but I discovered it's possible to turn photos into a "memory disk," a simple, slide-show-like DVD. What's amazing about all this is that I am capable of doing so without assistance. I used the program to make a capsule of our basketball season, which was fun. I was fairly impressed with myself, really, as I tend to be quite technologically challenged. Next, I plan to experiment with captions, images other than photos, and music other than the options offered.

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jape (v. to say or do something jokingly or mockingly)

I Dub Thee 'Sleek'

Well, we have a new cat that claims our home is hers (or his, whatevah).
This morning, my mom thought she heard a cat on our front porch, but she knew Zowi was indoors, so she didn't pursue it. This afternoon, however, the cat is meowing and meowing at our front door, jumping up on the bench and looking in our window, and when we open the door, she tries to dart in. My mom calls her Sleek. Since she has no collar and appears rather thin (though no starving, by any means), I think we should keep her.


My parents and, of course, Zowi, disagree. It will be interesting to see how long Sleek sticks around. It's funny, Zowi always blinks and refuses to look at the camera when I take her picture; Sleek seems quite photogenic, smiling at the attention.

Mumblings...

You would think after my posting drought, I would have a lot to talk about. But I don't. So I may just ramble about a lot of superfluous nothing....

There's something wrong with my hands. The skin, specifically. Occasionally (I've never tracked exactly how often or consistant it is), the back of my hands get especially dry with a reddish rash in accompaniment, and I'm currently having a flair up. The problem is that I'm not sure what is flaring up. I'm nearly certain it isn't eczema, as I've never had a problem with it itching and it doesn't quite resemble the pictures I've seen. I don't think it's getting worse, but it has sort of moved; it used to be more toward the base of my thumb and lower knuckles, and while it still affects the knuckles, it's centering on my lower hand and upper wrist now. Sometimes the skin is hot to the touch. Perhaps I should have a physician look at it sometime, but so far, I can generally "cure" it with lotion in the space of a few days. Actually, I'm thinking the rash a reaction to chemicals or...something. When I peel potatoes, it makes it worse. When I wash my hands a lot, it makes it worse. Actually, I think it's the towels I use after I wash my hands that worsens it. But I could be dillusional, as well. When I wash the dishes, it makes it worse. Is anyone else is seeing the connection in all these instances? Indeed. I must be H2O intolerant. Should've known it was that confounded dihydrogen monoxide.

As long as I'm discussing mysterious ailments, I should mention my ears. Occasionally (that dreaded word again) during basketball practices in the last two years, I've noticed my ears "plug up," just like when one is driving in a car and the change of elevation affects one's sense of hearing. It isn't constant or chronic or what have you, but it's rebarbative when it does occur. Anyway, I have this same problem when I'm sick sometimes, or about to be sick. Like now, for instance. I've been fighting that wretched flu my mother had ever since she had it, and I currently am having the hint of a sore throat and the ear issue. Yawning helps, but usually only for a few seconds.

Well, I'm certainly setting myself up as a querulous sort, aren't I? Really, though, other than weird health issues, life has been going well. With basketball over, I've been concentrating on school more. I really need to turn my attention to my room, which is a distaster. A huge disaster. Still. Right now, though, I think I'm going to go to sleep. So fare thee well, faithful readers.

250th

Happy Birthday, WA!

Things that go Bump

We had our end-of-the-season all-nighter last night, scrimmaging after the guys' game (which was a fantastic win, I might add), playing several rounds of bump, and crashing at the coaches' house afterwards. Staci kept us up until nearly 3 a.m. retelling all her midget-clown urban legends (yes, she has an actual fear of maniacal midgets dressed as clowns), but we got up this morning to play Uno Attack. We have our last game Monday, then nothing until June when we do league play. *sighs* I'm deciding whether I want to bowl or see Glory Road for my birthday, which I still haven't celebrated. We shall see...

Facts and Fictions

Well, we lost our game last night by a ridiculous amount. It wasn't the amount that was so ridiculous, but the team. It should have been different. But it wasn't. It was a dirty game against a dirty team, with two technicals marrng the game.
I'm in Rupert at Kari's; since I got here just past noon, we've watched three movies, played two games of Clue and one of Continuo, as well as making a delicious, mid-afternoon pasta. This is an extension of last weekend when she was down at my house for the space of two and a half days, during which time we played four games of Clue, six of Yahtzee, several of Sequence; watched two movies; and went to a stage production of Beauty and the Beast which one friend and several aquaintances were acting in. Yes, this is a whole lot of nothing. But it's enjoyable nothing, seasoned with conversation and experience.
I'm currently re-reading one of my favorite children's books, The Facts and Fictions of Minna Pratt. I tend to revert to children's lit between larger, "older" books, and Minna is one of my favorite stand-bys, along with Lily's Crossing. "Advanced," Kayleen (Kari's younger sis) called it, in an attempt to be witty or rabarbative; I'm not sure which. (I made that last comment for the sole purpose of being able to use "rebarbative" in a sentence.) Both these books remind me unfailingly of myself when I was younger. And sometimes of myself as I am.

Forbidden

I was attempting to access my blog today when the computer informed me that I am 'forbidden to view this page.' Good grief, if I can't look at my own blogsite, who can? I think someone out there writes those error messages just for the heck of it. And when I find out who it is...I'm going to suggest some better ones.

Attack of the Lizats

I am working on my debate final but feel the inclination to stop and record a dream that's bugging me before I forget it. I think it's connected to Surface, which my mom was watching last night. It is also somewhat reminiscent of the Jurassic Park movies and King Kong.
Our cat, Zowi, had mutated into a furry, lizard-like creature. She bit but purred, making her a lovable antagonist. She also had rather sharp talons, and climbed an enormous tree that sprouted out of our house, through the roof, reaching toward the sun; there was some ground, jungle-like foliage scattered around the house as well. The sky was an unnatural, murky brownish-gray. Suddenly, there were several creatures on the tree, and more coming from beneath our house, climbing the tree's knobby roots. I lost track of Zowi, but decided to name one of the lizats I especially liked Joey. I then simultaneously chased after and ran away from Joey and his fellow lizats, baiting traps with the help of generic people who were helping me fight the biting creatures. I asked Joey why they bit us, and he said something about compulsion (yes, Joey and the other lizats could communicate with us). Throughout the dream, the house faded into an all-out jungle, with the humans working to evade and capture the creatures; we remained steadfastly hesitant to kill them, however, as they were so darn lovable.

Inheritance Trilogy: Book Two

Aahhhh....MUCH better.

I have very few problems with Eldest. Most of them are rather petty or involved, so I shall briefly discuss but one:

The first hundred pages were as lame as Eragon, except I felt like I was walking through Middle-earth, renamed, instead of Star Wars; and Paolini introduced more two-dimensional characters (I'm thinking, mostly, of the Council of Elders here). This was quite disheartening, as I had been told by several people the second installment was much better than the first. I forgot about all that, though, once we got into Ellesmera.

As more of an observation than an outright complaint, the story arc still subtly parallels that of the latter three Star Wars episodes; I am pleased, however, that the arc has been completed, and there is nothing I can conceive of to continue the similarities in the final Inheritance installment.

There is a bridge Christopher Paolini crosses, somewhere around the time we first encounter Roran again (which was a pleasant surprise), in regards to his writing and story-telling. It matures. It gains depth. It becomes his. While he maintained a moderately compelling pace and style in Eragon, with proper form and such, there was still a paucity of...personality. It felt generic to me. And there's nothing worse than generic fantasy. Eldest, on the other hand, is his book, his story, penned by his voice--the voice of a story-teller, not just an admirer of other authors' books. Maybe it was time and experience that changed him. Maybe it was the confidence of selling millions of copies of his debut novel. Probably an amalgamation of the two. I don't know what caused the change. But I'm glad it happened, regardless.

Because of this, Eldest has the substance the first book lacked. The system of magic is explained in greater detail, religion and motivation are debated and explored discursively, the value (and meaning) of family is explored without seeming banal or mawkish; I found the twists of plot to be satisfying on two levels: I got to feel smart after partially predicting half of them, along with the thrill of the wholly unexpected. Anyway, Eldest is overall a worthwhile read, a successful endeavor on the author's part.

Christopher Paolini, the world patiently, eagerly awaits the finale to your epic tale.

A Reflection on...Country?

Recently, I've been listening to a new country station on the radio. I have never been too big a fan of hardcore country, although I've been learning it possesses some believable songs. However, for those of you who would deny that this genre dwells primarily on certain subjects such as dysfunctional relationships, alcohol, and redneck women, I would submit the song "Drunker than me" by Trent Tomilson. True, it doesn't contain any grief-stricken or resentful lyrics about divorce or burrying one's dead dog; but it is, unarguably, one of the unintelligent songs that makes the genre's stereotype well-deserved.
But like I inferred earlier, among the myriad of doleful songs contributed to mankind's cache of art by country singer-songwriters, I admit there is also a greater variation and deeper soul than you would find in, say, the pop category. There is more freedom and honesty in country than some other genres. This honesty allows for some fairly gormless songs, like the one mentioned above, but also very sincere and eloquent tunes (as far as eloquence can coincide with twangy guitars, that is...). And, as the lyric-freak that I am, country is generally quite clever, even when the subject is not.

New Calendars! Yay!

I spent most of the afternoon trying to clean and rearrange and organize my bedchamber (that's an underrated term) while purging the aforementioned room of unnecessary clutter. Heh, you should see it now. It looks like a tornado went on a wild rampage--a very long and wild rampage. I'm trying to eliminate a dresser to make room for the keyboard and find a place for where I can actually use that old typewriter, and it's quite a process. Ironically, most of the stuff on the floor is paper with a few decorative items, such as the picture frames I'm attempting to relocate, mixed in. So I think I may be sleeping on the couch tonight. The uncomfortable couch, since the comfy one is occupied.


*Sighs mournfully* It is, indeed, a day of sorrow, sentiment, and grief. For on this day, I can no longer use my Dr. Seuss 2005 Calendar. It was such a fun calendar, too. But, I do have two new ones to find room for, a 365-day cat themed desk calendar as well as a hanging, (big surprise) cat-themed twelve-monther. So I shouldn't have much trouble keeping track of the days. (:

Do-Re-Mi-Fa-So-La-Ti-Do

I have a fetish for two new games: Set and Sequence, the latter of which I played for the first time last night. If you haven't experienced the grandeur of either of these games, you absolutely should.

Anyway, as I read the title of my last post, I realized I didn't actually mention the keyboard at all. So I shall now. I was surprised, on Christmas Eve, to unwrap a flippin' sweet Yamaha keyboard that somewhat resembles the one in the picture, with some variations.


Now, I don't actually know how to play the piano, but I suppose that comes next. I've wanted to learn for quite some time in the hopes of penning the music for some of the plethora of lyrics I've written. (*switches to the royal third person* We grant you permission, three months from now when I'm whining about how confoundedly long it takes to learn to play an instrument, to slap our imperial face and remind us this is something we requested. )