Happy Birthday

Happy Birthday to me, happy birthday to me . . . Otanjoubi omedetou, otanjoubi omedetou . . . etc, etc . . .

My grandparents actually sent me a birthday card with "Happy Birthday" in Japanese on it; they thought I would like it. I did. I could read it (-:

I think in YHO we were playing Slow Hot Wind or perhaps Annie when I turned 17, actually, at 10:20 this morning. Or perhaps it was 10:40 when I was born? I forget . . . kind of . . . perhaps we were playing The Cascades. I hope not; I don't like that song so much.

I am wearing pink pants today. I like them. I had teriyaki noodles for lunch. I made them, and they were a little al dente, but I liked them.

I also got a purple feather boa. I tried to dance to "Take Back Your Mink" from Guys and Dolls and only ended up spewing purple feathers everywhere. Oh well; it was fun.

This was about the most random entry ever.

I have a random song I remember from Japan stuck in my head. I believe it was called "Happy Birthday" . . . and it had a very weird music video involving dancing babies and the silhouettes of animals having sex. Very odd.

Having had very limited social interaction today, I don't feel like I've gained in age. I feel like the world's gone on around me, or something. Or the world stopped. All I have to look forward to this weekend is babysitting tonight, YHO concert tomorrow, and then the movie project (MORE work) on Monday. Perhaps maybe I'll have time to write my story in there somewhere. Oh, I also need to finish that report on comparing revolutions, too. It's terribly boring. I hate citing; it makes the whole thing a burden. Revolutions are interesting, but not when they're names and dates and skirmishes on the battlefield. I like the plain straight-up cause and whether it was achieved and how. The intent.

Good intentions pave the road to Hell. In so many ways, I'm bound for there already. Then again, maybe I'm not at all. Maybe none of us are. That's a cool thought. What if there is no Hell? How about reincarnation? What if there's NOTHING?

I don't like that thought.

Hmm . . . I've thought of this stuff over and over again, and yet it's so nice to go over it again, in this new blank journal, so empty and ready to be filled. Though I reckon I'll repeat myself in it over and over again, as I always do.

Happy Birthday

Happy Birthday to me, happy birthday to me . . . Otanjoubi omedetou, otanjoubi omedetou . . . etc, etc . . .

My grandparents actually sent me a birthday card with "Happy Birthday" in Japanese on it; they thought I would like it. I did. I could read it (-:

I think in YHO we were playing Slow Hot Wind or perhaps Annie when I turned 17, actually, at 10:20 this morning. Or perhaps it was 10:40 when I was born? I forget . . . kind of . . . perhaps we were playing The Cascades. I hope not; I don't like that song so much.

I am wearing pink pants today. I like them. I had teriyaki noodles for lunch. I made them, and they were a little al dente, but I liked them.

I also got a purple feather boa. I tried to dance to "Take Back Your Mink" from Guys and Dolls and only ended up spewing purple feathers everywhere. Oh well; it was fun.

This was about the most random entry ever.

I have a random song I remember from Japan stuck in my head. I believe it was called "Happy Birthday" . . . and it had a very weird music video involving dancing babies and the silhouettes of animals having sex. Very odd.

Having had very limited social interaction today, I don't feel like I've gained in age. I feel like the world's gone on around me, or something. Or the world stopped. All I have to look forward to this weekend is babysitting tonight, YHO concert tomorrow, and then the movie project (MORE work) on Monday. Perhaps maybe I'll have time to write my story in there somewhere. Oh, I also need to finish that report on comparing revolutions, too. It's terribly boring. I hate citing; it makes the whole thing a burden. Revolutions are interesting, but not when they're names and dates and skirmishes on the battlefield. I like the plain straight-up cause and whether it was achieved and how. The intent.

Good intentions pave the road to Hell. In so many ways, I'm bound for there already. Then again, maybe I'm not at all. Maybe none of us are. That's a cool thought. What if there is no Hell? How about reincarnation? What if there's NOTHING?

I don't like that thought.

Hmm . . . I've thought of this stuff over and over again, and yet it's so nice to go over it again, in this new blank journal, so empty and ready to be filled. Though I reckon I'll repeat myself in it over and over again, as I always do.

Yes, A Happy Birthday

So today didn't totally suck. One of my presents was a Kit-Kat clock. You know, those really tacky little clocks with the wagging tails and moving eyes? I love them! Now I have one!

I think it was a year ago I thought I had passed a huge milestone since I was actually sick of playing Harry Potter with the kids in the neighborhood. Then the fifth book came out and I discovered online roleplaying . . . yea for recession! Though I just played it again tonight with two nine-year-olds, my brother and his friend. We ended up doing some really random like all-Slytherin thing . . . I was Bellatrix and Voldemort and the little friend was Regulus and Snape, and my brother kept switching because he wasn't good at anything . . . his Lucius was a know-it-all, he made Peter gay (which isn't out of the realm of possibility but you don't really want to encourage slash roleplay in nine-year-olds, lol), his Evan Rosier was a psychotic minion, Narcissa just didn't work because he doesn't make a very good girl, and he even couldn't do Kreacher right. Yet for playing with nine-year-olds, it went surprisingly well. I sort of mocked Hitler as Voldemort, which really amused them. Hey, there are definitely parallels there.

The sky was beautiful tonight. Last year, there was a lunar eclipse on my birthday. This year, it's just the cicadas. They haven't come out yet! I'm so disappointed! Well, that lunar eclipse was cool, though I missed it mostly because of some of the clouds. That one back in November . . . that was AWESOME. I got to write about it for Remus in a roleplay, so that was fun. It fit so well with the plot we were doing, too. Anyway, it was so bright tonight, the stars . . . and I, being the idiot I am, tried to guess at which one was Sirus by judging which was brightest, and I had no idea of even where to look for Regulus, Bellatrix, and Andromeda. Still. The obsession was still there. There was some planet up there that was really bright, too; at first I thought it was the satellite that the alert thing I signed up for kept sending me information on, but my dad said it wasn't.

I had cake. I got a pink and purple rose. I only ate it about an hour ago. I wanted to wait until Mom and Dad got home from their dinner.

So . . . I could have gone to prom and the after-activity, but instead I stayed home, journaled, wrote my story, wrote a report, went to YHO, talked to a lot of people I never have online before (or hadn't in a while, like Waldo) and played Harry Potter . . . and had an all-around better time, I think, than I would had I attempted the mainstream.

Though this is no revelation; I know I've always been off the mainstream.

I wonder if my friend is picking me up for church tomorrow . . . we were considering doing Mennonite this weekend. We've done this thing for the past couple of weeks where we go to different churches, visiting them, just to get a feel for them. So far we've done Episcopalian, Catholic, and Unitarian. I must say the Unitarian one sparked my interest the most. It's so open-minded, and it was so Transcendental and such (though Emerson actually was a Unitarian minister and resigned-- hey, he should be thankful he wasn't Catholic, lol). I like the openness of it, the acceptance of all (and the youth actually visit other churches all the time, too, and even mosques and synagogues and Pagan events-- these are not closed-minded people). The Catholic church we went to was so ritualistic that it was intriguing and beautiful and I could see how it could appeal, with its strict system and the accompanying comfort and intriguing, almost occult, practices. Yet I get the feeling that anything so tradition-bound one should be wary about; sometimes tradition can be bad. Obviously, though, I can't pass judgement on the whole church just after visiting it once. I was struck at its beauty and mystery, though.

It is odd, however, that every church I go to, one of my orchestra directors shows up to. Very odd. Dun dun dun . . .

Yes, A Happy Birthday

So today didn't totally suck. One of my presents was a Kit-Kat clock. You know, those really tacky little clocks with the wagging tails and moving eyes? I love them! Now I have one!

I think it was a year ago I thought I had passed a huge milestone since I was actually sick of playing Harry Potter with the kids in the neighborhood. Then the fifth book came out and I discovered online roleplaying . . . yea for recession! Though I just played it again tonight with two nine-year-olds, my brother and his friend. We ended up doing some really random like all-Slytherin thing . . . I was Bellatrix and Voldemort and the little friend was Regulus and Snape, and my brother kept switching because he wasn't good at anything . . . his Lucius was a know-it-all, he made Peter gay (which isn't out of the realm of possibility but you don't really want to encourage slash roleplay in nine-year-olds, lol), his Evan Rosier was a psychotic minion, Narcissa just didn't work because he doesn't make a very good girl, and he even couldn't do Kreacher right. Yet for playing with nine-year-olds, it went surprisingly well. I sort of mocked Hitler as Voldemort, which really amused them. Hey, there are definitely parallels there.

The sky was beautiful tonight. Last year, there was a lunar eclipse on my birthday. This year, it's just the cicadas. They haven't come out yet! I'm so disappointed! Well, that lunar eclipse was cool, though I missed it mostly because of some of the clouds. That one back in November . . . that was AWESOME. I got to write about it for Remus in a roleplay, so that was fun. It fit so well with the plot we were doing, too. Anyway, it was so bright tonight, the stars . . . and I, being the idiot I am, tried to guess at which one was Sirus by judging which was brightest, and I had no idea of even where to look for Regulus, Bellatrix, and Andromeda. Still. The obsession was still there. There was some planet up there that was really bright, too; at first I thought it was the satellite that the alert thing I signed up for kept sending me information on, but my dad said it wasn't.

I had cake. I got a pink and purple rose. I only ate it about an hour ago. I wanted to wait until Mom and Dad got home from their dinner.

So . . . I could have gone to prom and the after-activity, but instead I stayed home, journaled, wrote my story, wrote a report, went to YHO, talked to a lot of people I never have online before (or hadn't in a while, like Waldo) and played Harry Potter . . . and had an all-around better time, I think, than I would had I attempted the mainstream.

Though this is no revelation; I know I've always been off the mainstream.

I wonder if my friend is picking me up for church tomorrow . . . we were considering doing Mennonite this weekend. We've done this thing for the past couple of weeks where we go to different churches, visiting them, just to get a feel for them. So far we've done Episcopalian, Catholic, and Unitarian. I must say the Unitarian one sparked my interest the most. It's so open-minded, and it was so Transcendental and such (though Emerson actually was a Unitarian minister and resigned-- hey, he should be thankful he wasn't Catholic, lol). I like the openness of it, the acceptance of all (and the youth actually visit other churches all the time, too, and even mosques and synagogues and Pagan events-- these are not closed-minded people). The Catholic church we went to was so ritualistic that it was intriguing and beautiful and I could see how it could appeal, with its strict system and the accompanying comfort and intriguing, almost occult, practices. Yet I get the feeling that anything so tradition-bound one should be wary about; sometimes tradition can be bad. Obviously, though, I can't pass judgement on the whole church just after visiting it once. I was struck at its beauty and mystery, though.

It is odd, however, that every church I go to, one of my orchestra directors shows up to. Very odd. Dun dun dun . . .