...'the Heck??

I'm so legitimately weirded out right now. And the only way I can explain this is to go through my entire day. By the way, when I say 'unlocked my door', it pretty much means that I unlocked it from the inside, so that I wouldn't have to use my key to get back in. I usually did that when I was just going down the hall, and planned on coming right back.

I woke up this morning alone in my dorm. My roommate was gone for the weekend. Since it was monday, I got up and got dressed, and went to the gym. I got back and grabbed my shower stuff, unlocked my door, and went to the community bathroom to cleans myself of my hard-earned sweat. I finished my shower around the same time my roommate got back. I did the usual routine of blowdrying my hair as my roommate slept through the remarkably loud noise. Since my Tuesday-Thursday classes are messier than usual (charcoal and paint galore), I decided that I would dress kind of cute for my cleaner class. I pulled a tank top out of my shorts-and-tanks drawer. I'm going to emit the rest of my getting-ready shenanigans, but that part was actually important, so I felt it was worth mentioning.

*insert less important activities of my first class*

After, I went back up to my room to chill for a bit before my next course. My roommate was in her own classes, and nowhere to be seen. I had about an hour, so I dropped my belongings, unlocked my door, went to the bathroom, and came back. I sat there for a while, then left again, locking the door on my way out.

*insert more pointless classroom activities*

After class, I came back to find my roommate cleaning up her side of the room. The door was hanging open, since the RA of our floor initiated a Door's Open contest in order to encourage social interaction. Because I'm a rather layer back person, and was hoping to relax a bit before I headed off to work, I decided to change into something a bit more comfortable. I stripped off the grey skinny jeans I had been donning, and opened my shorts-and-tanks drawer, so I could slip on some athletic shorts. And then... there it was.

Let me remind you, I had opened up this particular drawer earlier when I was getting ready for class, and nothing was out of the ordinary. However, this second time I opened it... There was a strange t-shirt. A rather cute one, too, just my style. It was the perfect size, to boot. But still, not mine. "so you accidentally got it from the laundry room", eh? No! This shirt was not only in the wrong drawer, but it was also folded weird!! Like, what the heck?? Where on earth did this thing come from? I asked my roommate, who was completely oblivious (if not slightly amused by how much I freaked out), and assured me that she had hardly left with the door unlocked, and had not seen anyone come in. And she isn't the type of person who would lie (or rather... lie continuously. She's the sarcastic type, which is why we get along so well), much less secretly give me a gift.

I'm seriously confused. Some person snuck into my room and put a shirt in my drawer!! One that fits me perfectly, both stylistically and physically.

So... Thanks, I guess.

The Loved, The Lost, The Lonely

I'm blogging again.

What was with that little spurt of an ending? Ah, well, that was Summer, my friends. And as it is, I got hooked on another blog-like thing (though it's hardly fair to call it blog-like, since it is, in fact, a blog). I always feel weird about the whole 'promoting' thing, but so long as I'm promoting myself and not having another person do it (which would result in endless... embarrassment.), I suppose it's okay. allthatslefttodo.tumblr.com is my new photo blog. All the pictures are mine and whatnot, and are images of the most important thing that happened to me on that respective day. I suppose it would be important to say that I don't care if you use the pictures. In fact, I don't care that you give me credit. My only request is that you don't do anything mean to them... I hate that. My ability to keep up with it is also dwindling, as with the beginning of class comes with my camera bag being a bit more of a burden to carry around. Seriously, being an art major requires more arm space than I currently posses.

And that's where I'm going to begin here...

Art major. I've spent the last year and a half laughing at my friend's (if I have any here) homework assignments: the essays, the projects, the math problems, the whole lot of them. After all, my homework is to draw a picture of the flower sitting on my desk. I laugh and I laugh and I laugh, as I have always done on the outside. But the inside? Instability. Confusion. Hopeless. What on earth is an art major supposed to do with their life? If there are any art majors out there reading this, please ignore me for a while. I tend to have a very pessimistic view of the whole concept, even though its a part of my being. The way I see it, your future as an artist is to become a starving artist, digitally draw what other people want you to draw, or teach other people to go down the same path. No matter how I look at it, all I see are dead ends. I like to eat, I'm far to selfish to draw for others, and I don't want to lead other people down the same road.  Don't get me wrong, though! Art is important. It's expressive and creative and an outlet unlike any other. But for me, I think it's more of a hobby. Sure, theres my impending dream of writing my own manga. But as it is, I think I'd feel more comfortable working on that on my own.  Deadlines kill me. And so I've come to this conclusion. It's time to change majors. And theres only one major that I can pick.

...
.....
........

Biology.

What?? Where on earth did that come from? Well, you see, ever since I was a kid, I'd wanted to be a vet. I don't know how your schools work, but in my Jr High careers class, they made us go 'job shadowing', which basically meant you followed some person around at their work place. I chose to go to a vet clinic. Not gonna lie, I used to be quite queasy around guts and blood. They happened to be doing a surgery that day. I wasn't allowed inside, but my imagination was enough to, essentially, make me never want to step foot in that place ever again. However, over time, I've grown used to it. I've always generally liked my biology classes, especially after I found out I was terrible with physics and chemistry (I'm even struggling in my astronomy, and it's only my love for stars that keeps me going). So I figured, what the heck? Lets do this thing. Lets get a career!! Depending on who I talk to about this, I get different responses. My mom was surprised, and as always, supportive. I don't think she liked me being in art courses. My best friend, who is now my boyfriend (I hate that word. His name is Dane. I'm not sure if I ever mentioned his actual name before, but... gahh screw internet security.), is super excited, since he's currently enrolled in RN courses, and sees this as us going into the same field. A few random friends are also excited and shocked for me. But then theres the random comment every once in a while, "you need to do what you love! Don't just quit for money!". Uhm... okay. I'm not quitting art. I'll never quit art. That's like telling me to quit taking showers. One of those necessary-yet-not-actually-necissary things, you know? Also, I love not worrying about my future. That sounds like a really... materialistic thing to say. But I'm not gonna lie to you. Heck, you don't know me! It's true, though. I hated thinking about what I was going to do after I graduated. I hated working for hours in a fast food restaurant so I could pay for a second-hand school, because taking loans out for a questionable future was out of the question. In the end, it all comes down to money, doesn't it? That's so sad. Seriously, though. I'm really excited about this. I mentioned before that Dane was, too. Hah, I can't say he's to pumped about my desire to open a dog kennel on my future property. He's allergic to dogs.

Uhm... I don't even know how if everything in this post is even legible. I feel very sick today. Light headed and borderline depressed. Not in the mood to talk about it. Well, perhaps I would have if the post before this one wasn't so heavy. The point is, I didn't proof read, and I feel like I'm about to pass out. There may not have been any life in it. I'll never know. For once, I think I'm grateful for work today. At least I don't have to continue sitting around this room, drifting in and out of sleep, alone and silent. I promise I'll get better at writing again.

Answering with Questions

I. Don't. Know. What. To. Do.

No matter how I say it, it'll sound pathetic. But there isn't any other way to say it! Because no matter how it's said, it all means the same thing! Different words put together to make different sentences that have no difference whatsoever. No way to change the arrangement to make it something less intimidating, less impending, less imposing, less...

Terrifying.

Or perhaps I'm the only one who sees it that way?

Am I the only one who is unable to open up, and let myself feel, for once in my life? I'm sorry, that's an exaggeration.  Heat of the moment drama.  Still, why is it that I keep holding back, when its so obvious that I need to let go? What is it exactly that I'm afraid of?

Lets see.
Theres the possibility that I won't be able to give, and that I will only ever receive, never capable of returning anything close to what I would be basking in unconditionally.
Theres the prospect that it may not work, and I would have lost more than I ever would have gained, leaving me with only regrets of what could have been avoided.
Theres the probability that everything will proceed smoothly, yet deny me what I have only ever wanted in this world.

Or perhaps its growth that I first seek?

There has always been that small gap standing in the way, in which only a little growth would fill.  But who exactly needs to grow?  What needs to grow? It can't be just me that has to make the effort to mature.  Sure, that is undeniable.  But I don't stand alone in this.

After all.
Even this can't stay the same forever, become someday, when the world is just a little bit older, everything will be forced to change.
Even though something is utterly perfect in one condition, changing the setting can and will destroy the utopia, and demand another.
Even a child, who holds innocence, youth, and blissful happiness, is innately wired to desire something different.

Or perhaps I am completely wrong?

Theres of course the obvious direction of which I criticize, claiming that its wrong not to follow through.  But maybe it's wrong of me to criticize? Am I wrong to go into this without feeling the necessary emotions, and instead replacing them with fear?  Am I wrong to fear at all?

It's simple.
Too many times have I ignored everything, pretending that if I close my eyes, I can't see it, and therefore it won't see me.
Too many days have I spend telling myself that the entire situation was something useless to me, and was only needed for others to fulfill themselves.
Too many moments have I chosen to let even the most perfect position pass me by, for fear that it would destroy my carefully built wall.

So what is the outcome here? What is there left to do? How am I supposed to respond, and what is at risk? Is it even worth it? Would I be satisfied if I let this slip by me?

In the end.

It's really something when best friends fall in love.

FanFiction Exert

"I know you've read all of the stories about him, but..." A troubled look crossed Romani's face. Perhaps not one of deep secrecy, but definitely something I couldn't ignore. I had no option but to press forward.

"Well, okay, what kind of person was he, then?" After all, I had every right to know. It couldn't be to bad, considering how much everyone seemed to worship him. I mean, Hero of Time? Is there an epithet out there that beats that? If so, please, come forth. Lets have a glass of milk together. My treat, seriously. If you can do something beyond altering space and time, and have been given a name worthy of such, you must be a heck of a guy. Or, hey, lets not narrow out the girls. But this isn't the issue currently at hand. 

The sigh that escaped her lips was one that I'd heard before. It was the same one as the time I accidentally fell asleep while watching the cows on the Red Moon Night, and the alien things swiped them.  It took us two weeks to find them again (I swear, those things are getting smarter each year). I remember I heard it again when we got the letter from the Talpai Town bar, saying they no longer needed our milk shipments, since they had found a source that was much closer and cheaper. Not that it held a match to our milk, so it was their loss, really. Either way, this was her disappointment sigh. But somehow, this one seemed different from the others. There was a hint of... pain? Could that be it? After all, you can never be completely sure about these things. 

"You're father, he... well, he was a good man, really.  Always willing to help others out, even if it meant his own agenda would be pushed back. I remember when I first met him... well, he looked like a little grasshopper, all dressed in green. I thought he was weird, but..." At this, small pink spots of blush flushed across Romani's cheeks, "You couldn't resist liking him.  After all, he was so kind..." Her face burned darker red, "B-but of course, he loved your mother, and it was always his goal to save her, of course, because she was so beautiful and tall, so... so yes. A-anyway, he was good. Brave, just like he was always meant to be. And yet... he was just a person. We all are. And we all have our mistakes. Sometimes you can hide them, but... somebody will always find out.  And if that person loves you enough... they can look over it. Unless you aren't willing to change, and at that point... well, it's all up to you, then. And someday, you'll suffer from those mistakes." 

I waited a moment for Romani to finish. After a moment of silence, I realized that this was all I was going to get out of her. However vague, at least it was something. Better than the years of glorified legends about some god-like man who went around saving the world. He sounded at least like someone who could be relatable. Still, though, I couldn't shake the feeling that something went really wrong, and Romani knew about it. But I knew how she worked. She wasn't going to spill that easily. The best I could do is drop it, and maybe bring it up again later, when she was in a tranquil mood. 

"Okay, Romani, thanks a lot. It feels good to hear something new about him." 

"Yes... something new..." her eyes were still in deep thought, as if debating with the mysterious events of the past. 

"I'm... gonna go ahead and go to bed. Don't stay up to late. We're going to Min Ho tomorrow for the Perishable Trade meeting."

"Right... yes, I remember. Goodnight, Saria."

I began walking back to my room, but caught a last glimpse of Romani, who was shaking her head, her eyes closed and a slight frown on her face. It didn't look like she was going to heed my advice.  What on earth could be troubling her so much? 

Link... who are you? 

*** *** ***

Okay, I know that's totally weird. And honestly, I hate doing fan-based things... Yeah, call me a hypocrite. I'm well aware of my Haruhi Suzumiya fetish. But I started this story when I was... man... 13, maybe? I was pretty young. And let me say, it was pretty awful. The illustrations were less than thrilling, too. Anyway, on my way back to my room today, the little fan fiction crossed my mind, and it developed a bit. That is, in contrast to my older version, Link has some dark past, in which he did something that completely altered and destroyed his previous reputation. That is, of course, it would have, if everybody knew about it. Only a few people know what happened, and even they don't have the complete story. 

If you didn't pick up on what just happened, let me spell it out for you. Link and Zelda got married or something, and had a daughter, named after Saria. Something happened to them, so now she is living with Romani (the little alien-obsessed girl from MM). Since these... er... people (I don't know what to call them. Are they humans? Not really...) live to be pretty old (at least, in my world they do), this is about 160 years after OoT.  Thats three Zora generations, and about half of a Goron's. For story bored's sake, I'm gonna go ahead and say that events from any of the toon Link games are going to be overlooked.  Though, I'm gonna keep the bird people race around... I just love them to much. Not that I'm gonna actually continue to write this. To cliche.  

Turtle

I may have mentioned this before, but a few months ago, I got offered a job working at a wedding. It would be my first-ever art job, which was really cool. All I had to do was draw the guests at this wedding. Well, see, they wanted a caricature artist, which I am not. So, they basically had to settle for my more anime-style drawings. They were totally cool with that, though. They were the most chill wedding couple I've ever met. But because I wasn't exactly what they wanted, among other factors, I did the job for free.  I saw it as more of an opening, if anything. Expand my portfolio, to say the least. Another problem was my lack in vehicles... How on earth was I going to get to a wedding that was 2 hours away? Our solution was to have her stepdad come and pick me up on his way down. It was slightly out of the way, but he still was willing to do the job. Great... so I was going to have to drive 2 hours with some strange old guy who, as I had been told, was going to be telling weird jokes the whole time? Not to mention the wedding was going to be all day. That, my friends, means I would wake up at 7 and go to sleep at 12. I can't say I was totally bummed, but I wasn't exactly psyched.

"Its for my career, it's for my career, it's for my career..."

Those are the words I was thinking when Mr. Stepdad pulled up. From the moment I stepped in the car, I could tell he was thinking the same thing I was. "I have to ride two hours with some 19 year old college art student...??". Oh dear... this might be a long trip.

But...

That wasn't the case. I didn't even notice the two hours go by. Scott, as he had introduced himself, was hilarious. We became fast friends. He had a really cool taste in music, never sticking to just one genre. He had everything on his iPod from NSYNC to Katy Perry to Black Eyed Peas to some spiritual earthy music.  To say the least, we always had a cool song on. He talked about a bunch of movies that I need to see (Hum... Kill Bill, Long Kiss Goodbye, and... something else?), and after hearing that I liked Jpop, he told me about this hilarious SNL skit. And even in all of the joking, he had his serous moments. He was just an overall cool person. The entire wedding was quite draining, drawing people for 8 hours, so hanging out with him was a relief. On the way home, we even did a chinese fire drill (though we had to pass on the dance party in the gas station parking lot...). He was really one of the best parts of the day. 4 hours in the car has amounted to endless inside jokes that I can't seem to make with some of my friends. I wish I could say more about Samurai Scott, but it really wouldn't hold a candle to how cool he was.

...

...

...

On another note... last night, I dreamt about him. And no, I'm not talking about Scott. That'd be weird. Him. That one person who destroyed love for me. But no, I can't give him that much credit. I destroyed love for myself by letting myself be hurt so badly by him. I don't know why I dream about him so often. I hardly ever think about him in my waking hours. He's such a different person now, not even the type I'd be interested in. And I've changed drastically, too. I'm not so dependent anymore. So why is it that he still haunts me? Could it be that I secretly long for that love? I was looking at my brother and sister's prom photos, and... I felt jealous. Perhaps I'm not as solid as I thought I was? But that solidness is what keeps me going. Don't let anything hold you back... You must fulfill your dreams. Nothing is more important than that.


Honestly, I don't expect you to understand the turtle thing. It's an inside joke.

Disappointment Spurs Action... Or Not.

As time goes on, I get worse and worse at blogging. But that's to be expected, especially with me. I get bored with things easily.

So I'm gonna just move along. After all, I've already said quite a few times at how much I suck at this. In biology we're talking about evolution. For those of you who don't know, I totally think evolution is a 100% plausible theory. "But you're a Christian!" some might say, "And Christians don't believe in evolution." Well... why not? Why can't I believe God made the world... and this is how he did it? Anyway, as my teacher has pointed out, you can't believe in evolution. Belief is faith, and faith is the evidence of things not seen. What does evolution have to do with that? After all, we can see fossils. The two are a completely different category, and shouldn't be clumped together. But that's not my point. In fact, I was going in a completely different direction... In order to explain evolution, my teacher used Mickey Mouse as an example. I thought it was a little weird (and still do), but I was interested in how much exactly he had evolved. However... I was really sad in what I found. No matter how hard I looked, Kingdom Hearts Mickey and Epic Mickey weren't on any lists! Seriously. That makes me sad. "So make your own list!", some might say. ... ... ... Okay, that's something I would say, but for this purpose, I'm gonna just go ahead and pretend someone else said it. Anyway, "See, there's the problem", I would retort to said imaginary 'some', "I'm far to lazy for that". Really. Who has the time or dedication to search the internet for every single worthwhile portrayal of Mickey Mouse? Somebody whose really bored, that's who. And I am NOT bored. I have tons of things I need to do. And that, my friend, is why I am ending this post. Maybe someday I'll be inspired enough to take up the responsibility of making a more correct and fulfilled list.

Until then, walk in the shade.

Determination Through Fear

The past week has been a major freak out moment for me.

It may sound completely pessimistic, but I honestly believe you cannot make a living off of being an artist. Sure, you can teach art and survive off of that, but just being an artist? I don't think so. I think that career went out with the 18th century. The only people who make money off of art are dead people. Then again, I'm only talking about being a painter. There are tons of other options, including web design and, as I have chosen, manga artist. My views on fine arts inspired me to look more in depth to what getting into the manga industry actually takes. What I found was devastating at best. I've already realized that lots of people are way better than me (I've looked on Devianart). But manga is more than just being good at doing a cool color page: it's about story line. And I believe I have a really good story line going. I desperately want to get that story out. But so do millions of other people. Primarily Japanese people. And to be blunt, they have a better shot at the market than anyone else. That is, they have a better chance in the Japanese market. There are manga and anime companies in America that I could get into, and with much less of a fight. There are apparently rules against hiring foreigners, especially those who have little knowledge of the Japanese language. But half of my wanting to be a manga artist is living in Japan! I want to be there so bad that it hurts. Like, seriously. Sometimes I'll just have these major meltdown moments where I long for a place I've never even seen. Okay, done with the prologue.

I've been researching like crazy about the cost of living, job opportunities, travel permits, and such. I've decided to go along with a plan that I've been cooking up. Obviously, it has a ton of holes that I need to work out, but for a weeks worth, I'd say I'm doing pretty good. First of all, no matter how eager I am to get out of here, I need to graduate from college first. I'll study as hard as I can while I'm here, and let my skills grow. I'll work in my part time job and earn money to buy supplies, so that I can practice various techniques. Next semester, a Japanese language course will be offered. I'm going to take it (obviously?) and gradually learn more. I'm looking for a study abroad program, so that I can at least experience Japanese culture first hand, instead of being tossed into it as a part of the work force. After searching jobs online in Japan, I found that the best paying job (along with an internship I plan on getting) for an American would be to work at Tokyo Disney. Whether that be in the tourist department or as a princess look-alike, I would be completely happy. It turns out they're pretty short on white people, so that's a pretty high-probablility option.

Okay, I'm sorry this post couldn't be more interesting. This has been a major area that has bugged me, and I really just needed to write it out. I'm seriously freaking out about my future. This is something that I want to do, that I need to do. And I'll do whatever it takes to reach my goal.

Eating Without Taste Buds

I've actually (as per use) been trying to get on for a long time. There were so many things I wanted to write about. For instance, I had the strong desire to inform the world in how to make an order at Sonic. But, instead, I'll save that for a day when I don't have other stuff on my mind. It deserves it's own post. So! Coming soon! How To Make An Oder At Sonic! Stay tuned!

But for now... I'm waiting around in my dorm for a friend of mine to go to town for some art supplies. I was on Facebook messing around a little bit, when I realized something... people just don't get me. I mean, yeah, theres the obvious barrier between sarcasm and the internet, but I always feel like I run into it more often then others do. Or maybe I'm just capable of understanding those others? Either way, I somehow have this way of making things go from friendly banter to them getting all offended, or thinking I'm offended. Like, honestly, I don't get offended. And if I do, I'm not gonna dwell on the conversation. I'm gonna move it right along and complain to myself. Seriously, I'm one of the most chill people you'll ever meet. But I'm also kind of a jerk in my mind, so just be wary of that.

For some reason, almost every time I try to see if my spell-check is on by slamming down a few keys, auto correct will pretty much always turn it into the world "folk".

Today, I had some friends come over to my room and I made them peanut butter and honey sandwiches with hot razzberry tea, and one can of orange soda. My rooms a bit of a mess, but it was sorta nice having people over for a change. I'm usually just chill'n by myself, or studying. I think I need to make more of an effort to make friends. I just really want to have fun with people. One of the guys who I thought was just a good friend turned out to like me. I don't like fighting that kind of stuff off, which is why I don't date at all. *sigh* I feel superficial. In all honestly, all I can think about right now is my tongue. I burned it earlier while I was drinking my tea. I want to eat the strawberry blow pop sitting on my desk, but I'm afraid I wouldn't even be able to taste it. Don't you hate that? And the taste buds don't grow back for like, an entire day... What am I gonna do when I go to the bank and grab a handful of Dum Dums? Just pretend I can actually tell what flavor it is without looking at the wrapper? *Sigh*. Rich People Problems.

I think I'm gonna buy a camera. If I did, I'd feel more inclined to go out and take photos of fun things. Yeah. Sounds good. I'm gonna work hard to have fun this year.

The Melancholy of Emix Akari

So, it might be over-exadarating to say that I've been working extremely hard these past couple of weeks. I only work about 4 days a week, but those days are usually packed with overtime. I've been studying a lot more than I did last semester, actually reading text books and such. My homework tends to be stressful. My 3D design project has had it's fair share of issues, which took lots of bike rides and patience to unkink. On top of that, I now wake up early every morning to run. Okay, yeah, its only one mile, but still. Still more, I continue to ride my bike everywhere, from work to Walmart, the neighboring collage library to the animal shelter a few blocks down. All of this... it makes me tired. I'm pretty worn out. So the other day when my throat started to hurt, and I found I was out of Echenasia, I decided to run to the nurse to get some sort of antibacterial spray, so I wouldn't really come down with something. That's just a basic background of how I got to where I am now.

When I got to the nurse's office, I asked if I could just grab some sort of medication for my throat. Unfortunately, the lady said I had to fill out some dumb form. Seriously, I just wanted some over-the-counter stuff. However, I reluctantly filled out all of the sheets. There was even a part about my mental stability (that is, whether or not I was depressed). I answered the two questions honestly.

When the nurse called me in, she had to do all of this check-up stuff. I told her I just wanted something to spray in the back of my throat, but she continued asking her questions and doing her procedures. I just sighed and went along with it. Then she got to those two dumb depression references. Seriously, I've never thought I was really depressed. I mean, yeah, I've had my issues, but nothing bad. However, when I left, I began to think about what she had said. There were some things she had mentioned that I hadn't brought up. That is, she had asked if I found little interest in things that I once enjoyed. On the spot, I hadn't really had time to think about it. But now that I've had some time, there are a lot of things I don't really enjoy anymore. A lot of things I'd like to do, but when asked, refuse. I constantly am evaluating myself, hating who I am. I know who I am now, and people like me. I know who I want to be, but nobody wants to accept it. With that, I don't really know where I'm supposed to go (Of course, you're not supposed to worry about what others think, but lets be honest, here. If nobody likes who you are, then how are you going to get along in life? Alone? Really?). My mother always told me that people love me, and follow me. That I'm a leader, and people respect me and want to follow in my footsteps. But why would they? I believe myself to be incredibly boring. If I can't find anything in myself, how is it possible that someone else could?

Am I... depressed?

It's at moments like this that I feel strongly connected to Yuki Sohma. He was constantly admired by everyone in the school, both for his charm and appearance. However, he suffered the same questions I find myself asking.

I can't bring myself to keep on this topic. I know where I'm going with it, but I don't want to continue. I'm to tired to think straight. This whole post feels scattered and misplaced. There are also things I don't want to admit to myself, and I feel like if I keep moving forward in something so public, I might break.

For now... just forget this.

A list of Dogs I want

Even though my favorite animals are cats (for very specific reasons), I have this weird obsession with big dogs. Like, big dogs. They are, without a doubt, the most adorable things ever. I mean, yeah, any dog is cute as a puppy. But big dogs... they just never lose their cuteness. They're so huggable and adorable and fluffy and... aggh!! I want big dogs! But only five. Oh, Lord. I'm gonna starve to death in order to feed my future Army of K-9s.

This list is in order of how much I want them:

1. Boxer (with floppy ears...)

2. St Bernard (so fluuuuufffy!!!)

3. Dalmatian (they smile!!)

4. Great Dane (BIG.)

5. Old English Sheep Dog (Poofy)

6. Great Pyrenees (Perdy ^_^)

How To Rid Your Neighborhood Of Thiefs

The following includes the steps on how to make your home safe. If you have been worried about your belongings being robbed by a burglar, then take this advice from your friendly neighborhood 5-year-old!

When you think of humans, what is it that they all need? That's right! Food! Lots of yummy, delicious, home-cooked food. Robbers are no exception. So, the best way to trick them is to get them to think that your home is not actually a home, but a restaurant! "Perfect!" you say, "for a person who breaks into houses would immediately leave if he were to think your vicinity was not a house at all, but a place for food!". O'contraire, my feeble-minded friend. The robber would not leave, but insist upon staying. For, after all, do restaurants not have more money on hand than your local household? "But," you might ask, "why would you want the burglar to stay?" Why, to poison him, of course! And heres how its done.

This plan requires lots of thinking ahead, and it is advised that you join forces with one of your neighbors. Perhaps the boy next door, with whom you might go to school with. You, one of your family members, and said boy each decide the roll in which you will play in this scheme. For instance, you and your sister... er... family member might be the waitresses, while the boy acts as the 5-star chef. The back yard should be set up to resemble the patio of a fine dining location. If you find you are short on real chairs and tables, you can always put a table cloth on top of the plastic turtle-shaped sand box in order to disguise it as something other than a child's play thing. Chairs, in this case, would be unnecessary. After all, it may be a Japanes-style restaurant, where sitting on the ground is kinda normal. Now that everything is in place, you are ready. When an unfortunate bandit stables upon your vicinity, be ready to assume your rolls. After the necessary convincing in the maters of restaurant vs home, a waitresses will seat the oblivious thief in the finest spot there is to offer: the patio. The second waitress might hand the burglar a menu, possibly made of construction paper. True, the list for food might be short, but the fact that every item is top-of-the-line makes up for the lack in choice. The bandit will make his decision, in which the waitress will take the order back to the cook, who will then begin his work. Shortly after the food is finished, the bad man has eaten his full, he will possibly get up in order to rob you, but will fall short (literally) and you will find that he is most likely dead. And here is why: each recipe is thought out into a very precise and prestigious pattern. The list of ingredients for each food is as followed:

Peanut Butter and Jelly:

Bread made of hardened mud

Peanut butter made of smashed up acorns, sand, and water

Jelly made of night shade berries

Pizza:

Mud and sand crust

Topped with clovers, flowers, and rocks

Sause made with night shade berries

Tacos:

Giant weed leafs as tortillas

Filled with sand, rocks, clovers, and night shade berries

Kool-aid:

Water colored with night shade berries

Water:

Water stirred with a pencil

Clearly, every item is made to look exactly like the original, but with certain twists. Every food, with the exception of the water (which is contaminated with the all-powerful lead, causing lead poisoning), is tinged with night shade, a very deadly berry found in the woods. A robber would never see it coming.

So forget about your worries! This plan is fail-proof. You can return your million-dollar safety systems and take your money out of the bank and stick it in your sock drawer instead! With this system, you will be safe.

This situation is completely hypothetical. If you believe there to be any resemblance between the made-up characters (i.e. waitress sisters and boy next door) and real life people, you are fooling yourself. Again, this situation is completely hypothetical. If you believe there to be any resemblance between the made-up characters (i.e. waitress sisters and boy next door) and real life people, you are fooling yourself.

Making Time For Candy

I could really go for a Ring Pop right now.

I was just recalling a memory from a few months ago. Two of my best friends were coming to pick me up from college and take me home for my sister's homecoming event. I wanted to buy each of them their favorite drink and candy to show my gratitude. I knew that the girl liked Reese's (I just now realized that it is NOT spelled like the child's free/fun time after lunch. My life has been altered.) and Dr. Pepper. The boy, however, liked Brisk and... something. I wasn't sure what that something was, so I did the only think I could do: I asked him. Of course, I phrased it in a way that he wouldn't guess. I told him I was excited about the two of them coming, and then brought up something that he had mentioned right before I left. That is, the fact that even though we were such good friends, there was still a lot we didn't know about each other. In other words, I said this:

Man, I was thinking about how you said we don't really know each other. I don't even know your favorite candy! And candy is like, my thing!

He replied by informing me that he liked York mints. He also said:

And you like Skittles. Wait! No! ... Ring Pops!

Whoa. Even I had forgotten my favorite candy. I do prefer Ring Pops over everything else! I just didn't remember. Interesting.

I've been back at school for about a week now, but we just started classes the other day. It's been a month since I last wrote, so I figured a new post was long over-due. Speaking of over due, I seriously need to go to the library. I'm hoping I can run over there before the time for me to leave for work comes. So I'll just have to write really fast.

Or...

I could just leave it at this and be on my way.

But then again, I'm so comfortable here in my chair with my fuzzy purple blanket, wearing shorts instead of those annoying jeans. *sigh*. Such is life.

I decided the other day that I should probably start working out a bit. Yeah, okay, this isn't one of those New Years Resolution things. To be honest, I can't remember the last time I actually made a resolution. Anyway, I have only just started, but theres something I've noticed about this attempt that has been different from past trials. Instead of doing it at night with the hopes that I would have the time, I've decided to do it in the morning. See, the thing about working out is that instead of making room for it in your schedule, you need to put it in your schedule. Okay, yeah, that sounds the same, but seriously, it makes sense. Well, in my mind, anyway.

Shoot, I really need to go to the library.