Harry Potter!

Yes, I'm a potter lover, an unashamed one too! Awesome books and Radcliffe is cute too. ;D But anyways, I've juuust finished reading the book, HP and the Deathly Hallows. And it. is. AWESOME.

Seriously! I won't give you slower readers any spoilers (took me a grand total of 8 hours to read, or 11 hours since I got it but I didn't open it then, saw the Order of the Phoenix first) aside from the fact that....well, the last word in the book is 'well' and lots and lots of characters die. Six at a rough count, and -no- I won't tell you who. No...wait, seven.

I'll dispell a couple rumours though, Malfoy and Harry DON'T end up as buddies, and yes Harry DOES die, *grin* so does Voldemort, but you'll find that out on your own. Lessee what else....

Newp, I can't say anything else without spoiling! It is an awesome book, very very good. If you've noticed, (I had) that order of the phoenix and half-blood prince weren't as well written as the previous four books? Lacking the detail, still good reads, but not up to the same quality as say the philosopher's stone. Trust me, Deathly Hallows more than makes up for their lack! The first two chapters are a -bit- dull, but you get that, you have to gentle the readers into the action rather than throwing it directly at them. Whew, I couldn't put it down. And then I had people bugging me in THE fight scene and and and...argh!

I'm still a bit hyper sorry, I tend to get like this after finishing a good book, hell a new book is a good thing :D

Anyways, I also went and saw Order of the Phoenix, bloody good movie. Good special effects, they didn't cut too much out of the storyline, there were parts that were only sketched at, Hagrid's foray into the giants for instance, how and wy he brought Grawp back, that they could have gone into a little flash back cinematic thing, perhaps a bit more about the DA (Dumbledores Army) and how they communicated perhaps, to organise the meetings, but the rest was absolutely wonderful. Kudos to the makers!


So yes, I'm back at my mothers, unfortunately and ironically she couldn't work my laptop while i was at my fathers (suck shit!) where as I am having about the same amount of trouble I usually do and I'm not entirely sure of what her problem was lol. I've gotten my hair dyed too, it's a violety-purple red, rather dark, and lighter streaks of blonde through it. It looks rather good actually, I like it. And that's my summarisation for my life for now (oh, and that I -still- haven't done my holiday homework heh, I guess I'd best knuckle down tomorrow eh?) oh! and I bought a CD thing for spanish from Dymocks (a book store) so I can learn proper spanish, rather than mexican XD Ah well. Until another day, adios!

ps. !! I forgot, I caught up with one of my long time friends yester-no wait, friday now, and had a good talk with her. Heh, stunned her when I admitted that I'd contemplated suicide, and even told her how I'd go about it and all. Course, this was after I told her all the stuff I had to pay and whatnot (check a previous post to see how much I'm worth a month) and she doesn't like my mother now, ironic, considering that she was charmed by the lady. Thought she was alright you know? But then, everyone who meets mother dearest does, they think she's wonderful. Ah well. *shrugs* And I swear that's it! I'll shut up now before my post gets 'scary long'.

Spanish!

Or more accurately, mexican. I'm learning/teaching myself it. It's fun, yet I fail, miserably, in trying to construct sentences. And considering that my 'teacher' learnt both english and spanish at the same time, so was never formally taught as such, has made things a bit hard you know?

So anyways, I can say... hola, me llamo Ange, cual es tu nombre?

hello, my name is ange, and your name is? (I think, it was sort of just rattled out by him)

And... me menara de hablar espanol por las mananas es una broma

My way of speaking spanish in the mornings is a joke.

Now, they have male/female and neuter words, sentences rather. And the sentence has to 'agree'. So you can't have me menara de hablo because menara is female and hablo is neuter/male and you can't do that. Summary: words ending with a are female, words ending with e or o are male. So, if the word ends with an a then the alterable verbs and conjugated words (it is a SPASTIC language) have to change to agree with that one word so that it becomes a female sentence.

You still with me?

For example you can't have la rinoceronte(i think that's how you spell it), because 'la' is for female and rinoceronte is a MALE word, so it would have to be el rinoceronte. It doesn't matter if the rhino is male or female, its because it ends with an 'e' or 'o' that makes it male. Giraffe in english would be male, but girafa is female. Ergo, la girafa macho. The male giraffe.

Fun no? And I'm trying to get my head around this BEFORE school starts again.

Spastic dream

Seriously spastic. Most of you know that I haven't trained for a couple years now right? So what the devil am I doing dreaming about being in a tournament?

Okay, so my dream starts in the middle of a kumite (fight) bout, where I'm standing on the sidelines, hot and bothered and slightly smarting as I'd just lost my fight, royally thumped, hey, it was the nationals and I was -way- out of practise. Seriously so. A little blurring of the time, and I'm lining up for a kata round.

Two people who know me ask me who I'd rather verse in the final round. I replied with a snort "I doubt I'll get past the first round, considering I can barely remember the entirety of a kata."

"Oh yeah, that might be a bit of a bummer eh?"

"Hope to get to verse you."

Then the round started, I was semi-watching the other kata's, just mostly stressing over the fact that this was a NATIONAL competition and I had NOTHING to work with for the first round. I wasn't even sure if I had the entirety of the Kata I was planning to do in my head.

My turn comes up, and I've got a seriously bad case of stage fright. I straighten my shoulders, walk out to the middle of the mat, bow, keep my eyes shut, walk to the center, bow again and open my eyes. "Heian Godan!" I say, the first round -always- has to be a heian kata, it's very basic kata's, the first ones you learn. I pull it off...alright, I think I missed bits and added bits and scrambled it into other kata's, but it looked good, must have because I got into the second round.

This round I did Jion, and thoroughly stuffed it up. My two favourite katas, my competition kata actually, the pair that I've done so many times for performing in a tournament that I can do them asleep...and it seems to have semi-paid off. Unfortunately I get knocked out in this round, and the winner went on to win third place, so it's not that bad I suppose. But oddly enough, before the bout had finished, this...balloon cage thing descended through the roof and a moth like she-boy entered the bout, performed a kata, very gracefully and elegantly, and won first place.

After that, my dad helped me go through jion, basically reteaching it to me, so that I remembered the entirety of it. That was fine, once I was satisfied with that, or rather, he was, I went over and befriended the she-boy, since no one was really sure if he was a she or a he, too feminine looking to be a he, yet lacking the obvious female characteristics, hips for one, to be a she. We were having a nice chat, when he invited me into his bubble-cage thing, I said a goodbye to my dad and all that, before following him. We went up through the roof and over fields and things, still talking, well more, him laughing as I was awe-ing at the view. And then....and then my cat jumped up onto my bed and laid against my legs, waking me up.

I was fine enough with that and all, but what's got me freaked out, is that because I had the kata retaught to me in my dreams, I can remember the ENTIRE kata -now-, while I'm awake, and I won't be struggling to remember which move comes next or anything. Odd...very, odd.

Oh, and my moth she-boy, was silver, a quite a luxurious shade of silvery grey that shimmers in the light...

Freedome!

Yes, I am free! Have been for a week actually, been staying up at my fathers, and I've been quite happy, which if any of you who have spoken to me recently will no doubt have noticed that I -seem- happier. And I was, I love my father, if he wants me to do something, he gives me a -reason- for it, other than 'because I said so'.

Like yesterday, he wanted me to get off the net, so I did. You know why? Because he wanted my help with shifting stuff. First I had to fill a trailor load of wood, two people with chainsaws, one carter, and I managed to keep up rather well with the loads. That was fine, then I had to help shift two...no, three bookcases (empty of course) and load them up onto a ute. Then, to top it all off, I helped load up a wallunit (a wardrobe like thing, hell heavy) onto a trailor.

My arms were twinging slightly about now. A fifteen minute drive, if not a bit more, and we get the joy of unloading the lot again. *sigh* my arms are now on strike, they're forming unions and refusing to work.

So you see, whenever my father asks me to do something, I can actually give a -reason- for it, and I get one back, one more definite than 'because I said so' or, 'because I don't want you to'

Yes, I have been happy, quietly, blissfully happy. And then mother dearest arrives for a few hours.

So, barely half an hour has passed and she's gone off at me, twice. *sighs* Figures eh? So my happy mood was gone, like that. Hence why I haven't posted actually, happiness is boring to post about, who wants to read about people being happy? It's boring.

Side note: Kill Bill 1&2 are -awesome- watched them the other day, and one quote just stuck with me, I love it!

Bill: ...why didn't you tell me?

Beatrice: I...I don't know, because I'm a bad person.

Bill: No no, you're not a bad person, you're a wonderful, nice, kind person. My favourite person, but sometimes, you're a real cunt.


I just love that little mini scene thing! It's so sad, so ....awwww ness and yet you laugh, he's going to stand, take those five steps and die but it's so sweet! They both still love each other, but they can't move from the path they've chosen, Beatrice for revenge and Bill from what he is...It's so sad, so sweet so...just awwwwww. <3

Life update!

First off...I posted twice? o.o I didn't notice, honestly, and the reason neither post was actually finished was because my mind has been rather skittish recently. Refusing to concentrate on anything.

Lets see...what's been going on in my life? Mother dearest has decided to stop trying to control my life, since I have this knack for circumventing her attempts to, even while 'following' her 'orders'. So yes, things are happier now than they have been, since I am hiding my emotions and only showing those that she wishes to see. Smart alec-y sarcastic humour.

Oh, my art teacher likes what I've been painting, it's shells, a larger canvas done in shades of blue, and then a smaller one to go ontop done in shades of red and yellow. It looks rather nice actually, if I do say so myself. In a Lit test like thing, an in class essay, I think I did pretty well, I used quotes from three poems so that should get me brownie points if nothing else does.

My mother's boyfriend is trying to control me now, snapping at me and the like, which means that when mum pulls him up on it, he gets antzy and even worse. Because of his daughter, being a 6yo, he automatically assumes that the same methods would work on, and be appropriate for myself. It's frustrating you know? To be seen as a child, when you're almost an adult, legally, yet you know, in your entire body, that when you gain your majority they're going to treat you exactly the same?

Oh, and you know how I want to go travelling or whatever after school finishes? Mother dearest has somehow contrived that into being an insult against -her-, that I don't care about what she does etc, fair enough I don't, but I would have moved out at the end of school anyways, whether or not we got along better. I'd been planning it since I was about ....12 or so and the end of my school years was looming dangerously close on the horizon.

Mother dearest thinks that because I havent given her the details of exactly -how- I am going to acheive this, she thinks that I'm not going to. But I am damnit, I -am- going to travel, I -am- going to leave her house, and I -am- going to live on my own.

If all else fails, I'll live on a uni campus or something, it shouldn't cost too much extra, since my uni fees ought to be getting paid out in a couple years anyways, from a trust fund my parents started paying when I was like, two.

So yeah, there we go. An update of what has been going on in my life, not that it's terribly exciting, but bleh. Oh, and I have been semi-invited to a couple parties over the holidays, i doubt it will come to pass as the girl who invited me has absolutely no way of contacting me outside school. Figures eh?

The Frost.

At dawn, after a bitter cold night
Silver crystal is what you see.
The sun, it does have a fight
to get the frost to flee.

The bitter cold wind will blow
to freeze the icy tear,
like water, it does flow
with the shivering of fear.

On the brittle, stiff grass,
a silver glittering shroud;
everything glinting like glass
a silver, spikey cloud.

Little frozen drops of dew,
coating each and every leaf.
And if greenery is too few,
grin, and it'll coat your teeth.

Ghostly plumes of air do float
way up into the sky,
drifting over the rocking boat,
floating away so high.

The sky that is so blue
and yet bitterly cold,
reflected in a drop of dew
collected in a crease or fold.

Standing, shivering in the dawn,
seeing the sun come creeping
and the frost to lose it's form,
will slowly still the weeping.



Don't growl at me, I wrote that a couple years ago, when I was ...about 14 I think. One of my earlier poems and not the standard that I usually have now in regards to my poetry. That wasn't today by the way, wasn't quite cold enough for the frost to be still visible when I was waiting for my bus, but on that day, it was. It looked almost like snow, except much...thinner, and more dirty since you can see the dead grass and the brown dirt through the frozen water.

I wonder if you'll pick up on the undertones of that poem? Most only see the brighter tones, the beauty I'm describing in the cold morning. Story of my childhood, you could say. Cold beauty yet...

How sweet I roamed from field to field

How sweet I roamed from field to field,
And tasted all the summer's pride,
Till I the prince of love beheld,
Who in the sunny beams did glide!

He showed me lilies for my hair,
And blushing roses for my brow;
He led me through his gardens fair,
Where all his golden pleasures grow.

With sweet May dews my wings were wet,
and Phoebus fired my vocal rage;
He caught me in his silken net,
and shut me in his golden cage.

He loves to sit and hear me sing,
Then, laughing, sports and plays with me;
Then stretches out my golden wing,
And mocks my loss of liberty.

William Blake

One of my favourite poems by Blake, actually. I used it in the final exams last year, because it was the only poem I could recall, and be confident in my quoting...except for the little factor that I forgot what it was called XD Not like you need the name of the poem...just the lines, and the poet >_>

But I do like it, oddly enough, I can relate to the persona...no, don't look at me like that. I'm not THAT nuts.

And that is the summation of my thoughts for today...since I didn't get much sleep last night because of a dream I can't remember so i can't complain about it. But I feel like I've run for ages.

Kittties!

When lacking coherent thought, smother the masses with kitten kyuteness.

Oh, and I got 84% in a math test ^_^ which is good, considering that I have been failing maths recently.

UR NOZE

put in more quarters!

monorailcat 2.0

Storm

Silent, still, yet the ominous rumble of thunder
sounds in the distance.
Birds, crows, animals stand still and wait;
ears pricked for the sullen grumble.

A heavy, oppressive anticipation fills the air,
a flicker of light--
and then a crack! sending the creatures
scurrying, flapping, screaming for cover.

Silence reigns once more as the unseen
breath is held, anticipating.
And then, with a sharp, violent shcrrap!
the skies break open.

Heavy, fat drops of thunder born rain
cascade down, a bucket upending.
Overbearing water beating the earth
with merciless blows.

Heavier, fiercer, more violent come the blows
raining on the tender earth.
Then, a reprieve, the blows lighten,
the rain, it eases, and stops.

Silence, stillness, yet a steady drip of water
plopping onto the abused earth.
Eyes peer cautiously out, watching, waiting;
a low, sullen rumble sounds.


I wrote this a couple months ago now, in Math during a summer storm, it was rather nice actually.

Dreaming

Yes, I had another dream...and this one was disturbing, even for me! Although it was rather simple, and short compared to some of my other dreams that is.

It started with me sitting at a vanity, you know the sort of thing, where there are drawers and a mirror and make-up and things? I glance up at my face in the mirror, but I don't look like myself, not exactly, it's like...a slight shift in my perceptions, as though I was looking at an ancestor, or a decendant or something, someone that looked like me, but -wasn't- me. That was bad enough, but then I picked up a blush brush (for the males reading this, it's a big, fluffy brush that women use to put blush- a tint powder thing- on their cheeks to colour them) and twirled it, brushing it over my face.

Bits of my face fell from the brush, like fine powder, my eyes were closed as I was doing this, so as to not get the bits of me in my eyes. My entire face brushed, I got a cloth and wiped the remaining little pieces away. I looked even less like the me I see in the mirror, it was more...ethreal, unearthly, yet captivating...haunting but not in a scary way you know? Haunting in a....dare I say it? In an oddly beautiful way...but an otherworldly way. The way that a siren would have been beautiful, if that helps any.

My face 'clean' I turned the brush to my arms and twirled it over my skin, dusting away. My skin flaked away like fine scales to fall to the floor as I methodically cleaned first one arm, and then the other of the dusting, the layer over who I really was. A reddish gold showed through the paleness of what my skin usually is (Seriously, I don't tan) the colour of rose gold, for the hue. Gold, but with a sheen of the palest red.

I again wiped away the final flakes with the cloth, my arms, neck, face bare of the artifice before I stood, and in turning from the dark wood of the beuro (sp?) the dream faded, but peacefully. Like the exhalation of a pleased sigh.

Very...odd. To say the least.