Part catblog, part photoblog, and part quote of the day...

"Idiot cat! Look at the cat! What's wrong with him!"

That's Django. And that's my freezer.

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Quote of the Day

"...er, if someone can hand me that drink. No, that one there, slowly eating a hole through the bar."

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Link of the whenever I damn well feel like it.

Yup. I'm finally putting a new link up.

It's called uglydress.com, " the archive of the world's worst Bridesmaids dresses."

...I kid you not.

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It does an increasingly poor job of rallying pep.

It's that time of year again. It's time for the annual Spring Pep Rally.

And, as we did in September, at the annual Fall Pep Rally, we're not bothering with the mess, and we're just cutting the Pep Rally -- yes, it's mandatory -- and walking up to the Pizzaria.

I've alredy blogged about this once before, so, if you click on the links (that last word, or anywhere I've mentioned either Pep Rally), it'll take you to that post, which is much better thought out, and all.

*(Kat-Cat told me to post, to, like, remind her, so that I wasn't walking up to the pizzaria alone.)*

And some of you are asking, But, Luakaisyn, what's with the freaky plants? You remember, sometime in february, I told you about Senior Movie day, and I went dressed as Audrey, from Little Shop of Horrors? And I said I'd post pictures of the baby Audrey II that I built?

There ya go.

By the way, the paper taped the the can says:
Come See The Amazing Audrey II
Mushnik & Son Flower Shop
Skid Row, NYC,
Hours: 10:AM to 6:PM

So, yeah. Oh, and, on the subject of new stories, I *do* have a new story.

It's called Larceny by False Pretense. It's new. It's so new, Kat-Cat doesn't know about it. (Unless she overheard Li-Li complaining at Wisa, because one of the characters is vaguely based on Wisa, and I don't have any characters based on Li-Li.)

*(Yes, all of my friends have freaky nicknames.)*

So, yeah, I might put that online, but I'm not sure. Give me some time to write afew chapters.

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Y'know, the cats have it easy...

I'm serious. I walk in, and Django just stares at me. Like, "oh, it's you". So then, I go, to turn on the computer, and Boo is asleep in the office chair. All cute, and fluffy, and warm; so a pick him up -- still curled up -- and he gives me this look, like, "why did you move me? I... I was asleep."

Y'know, the cats have it really easy. They don't have to go to school...

The cats don't have to deal with Economics homework...

They don't have to listen to, "when my Boyfriend's in Virginia, he calls me all the time, but now that he's in the Bronx, he doesn't talk to me, and I want to trust him..."

The cats don't have to deal with people screaming things like "I'm going to beat your fucking face in," at their friends.



I always used to think that Nowheresville was such a nice place. I'm serious. I used to think that it was, y'know, like the movie Pleasantville. I've spent six years in Nowheresville Memorial High School, and this is the first year I've ever been aware of how messed-up our school is.

I mean, I see these freakshow highschools on TV, and in Movies, and it's like, "no, that's not our school."

Let me tell you something: The Freakshow is Here.

There are drugs. Oh, yes, we have drugs. And not that trashy "illegal" stuff, either. Oh, no -- this is the good stuff. This is the "my mom had a prescription for this, but she never finished it. You want some? Five bucks."

There is drinking. Don't think for a minute that we don't.

There is sex. I know about all the good places to hide your sex diary. I know about people who bring their sex toys to school with them, so their moms don't find them. We don't need those silly little rubber bracelets, no.


And you know the sad part? This isn't stuff that should be a secret. This isn't "hey, just between you and me". This is open conersation, apparently.

Our economics teacher wanted examples of what we had done, over a weekend, for an example of "income effect", he calls on a random student, and the guy says, "...uh, gimme a minute. I don't remember." Which means either (a), he actually got drunk enough to black out, or (b), he can't lie that fast.


I mean, am I really this far out of the loop?

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Quote of the Day

"I believe that somewhere along the line, Robin missed out on the order-loving gene and got the chaos-oh-yippee-destruction-yay gene."

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Hi. I'm back.

I really have to learn how to post on those four-day breaks.

[Costume Shop] + [Easter] + [Purim] = Easter Bunnies, Jesus Wig-and-beard sets, and everything else in the store.

Yeah. Sorry about that.

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Quote of the Day

"The biggest cause of divorce in this country is Marriage."

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Quote of the Day

"This science stuff really comes in handy when you're being chased by robots."

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Ooooh!

Okay. Here are a few other random things that I'd really like to comment on, but don't want to devote an entire post to.

First off: I. Hate. Essays. I mean, seriously, I got into the Honors' College, so now I have the option of living on the Honors' floor. Which I have to apply for. Which requires an essay. Seriously, I think I've done more work to get into the college than I have in classwork this year.

I finally found out about the scholarship that I applied for -- I don't know if I mentioned it, here, but I got money! w00t!


On an entirely unrelated note, I know Kat-Cat and I have been kinda ignoring A Treatise on Insanity recently... and when I say "recently", I mean "since January"... I'm sorry about that, but I'd feel really bad about taking over the story completely; considering the only ones that bother to comment are her readers, who probably didn't even notice my name at the bottom of the second Prologue...

And, if anyone's keeping score at home, I may just start a third blog -- just maybe. Another story. But there's no guarantee.

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Hi. I'm back.

I spent the weekend making the Canon Elura 65 Mac-compatible.

And I hear some of you muttering, But, Laukaisyn, what do you mean, you "made" it Mac compatible? Right. Yeah. Apple says the Elura 65 is Mac compatible, Canon says it isn't. The trick is, you can't bring the video over on a USB cable, you have to go and buy a 4-pin-to-6-pin firewire cable, and then it works fine. Oh, and, while we're on the subject, iMovie is a great deal happier than Canon ImageBrowser.

*(What's the deal with Capital Letters in the middle of names?)*

Oh, and, on another note, mom went and registered OmniWeb, so my posts will actually be spelled properly (for the most part).

Isn't that great?

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Reasonable goals should be just that: Reasonable.

Like, when your last class ends at 3 in the afternoon, and there is no possible way that you can be back in time to update so that your story doesn't get updated until 4, even though it says 3:01...

And that doesn't allow for days like today, where I didn't get to come home until... now. I was helping out with a youth art show. Yeah. It was art from the four local elementary schools, and the two local parochial elementary schools. And the high school's photography club.

Which made sense, since we coordinated it.


Oh, and speaking of which, it came.

And, when I say "it", I mean, "the Canon Elura 65 DV digital camcorder with still photo capability that I've been completely and utterly geeking out over the past few weeks."

"It" is just so much easier to say, though.



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Quote of the Day

"I tried cooking something on a lightbulb once, but I left it on for, like, three hours, and it burned."

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Quote of the Day

"I don't care if you're not moving... just, don't be... not moving... in the way!" -- Mom.

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There are certain things I really, really hate.

One of those things, is when a teacher just gives up on a class.

No pretense, no reason at all, just, "no, that's okay, I don't want to help you."

That happened to me last year, in Spanish.

Now, granted, I absolutely loathed my Spanish teacher last year -- "hate" is such a strong word, as I am constantly reminded -- and I wanted nothing to do with the woman.

I first met the woman in tenth grade, when she was taking over for the cool spanish teacher; he was leaving Nowheresville to go teach spanish and coach varsity basketball elsewhere on the island.

So, instead of having the cool Cuban guy (who coached varsity basketball afterschool) we now have this remarkably stuck-up woman, who's rather proud of herself because she studied in Madrid.

You caught that, right? All the other teachers were native speakers. She studied it.

I slogged through her class -- and, by "slogged", I mean "I hated it, but I got a 90".

I got her again last year, for eleventh grade Spanish. Now, keep in mind, there is a Spanish Regents Exam -- at the end of Spanish 3.

So what does our teacher do?

She gives up on us, half way through the year. "Fine, whatever, I don't care."

I think I got a 90 on the Regents. I think. I don't remember. I do know I got mastery (85 and up).



At any rate, having a teacher simply "give up" on you isn't fun. At all.

Especially when, y'know, you have no idea what the notes mean, and the teacher refuses to explain them.

Like in Mass Media. He just decided, today, he's not going to teach us. Why, I honestly couldn't tell you, but he simply refuses. He puts notes up on the board, that we have to copy down -- notes that make no sense at all -- and then won't explain when you ask what they mean.

The ad, like the comic strip, belongs to the world of games, to the world of models and situations elsewhere.

*(If there's anyone out there that wants to explain that, please do. Because no one else will.)*

Then, there's my Spanish teacher -- this year. In the middle of the class; in the middle of Rubén Blades' Pedro Nevajo, she just walks out. She just leaves. That's it. Just gone. No more.

The last thing I heard before she left was, "wait, what does 'flojo' mean, again?"

...so, yeah.

I'm not, y'know, going to embarass my teachers or anything, but, seriously, why do they always do it to the entire class? All they're doing is punishing the good kids. Right?


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Chapter XIII is awesome!

...okay, sorry. Again.

I mean, y'know, Sixty Percent Chance of Rain is, y'know, pretty much under control, but, uh, that's because it's written two months in advance.

My problem is hyphen-dash. I mean, Sixty Percent will be up every Friday -- or Saturday by the Latest. But HYPHEN-DASH?

And I hear a few diligent ones cry out, But, Laukaisyn, it doesn't matter because we no one actually reads hyphen-dash...

To them, I say, "Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries! And niether tought you how to read the SiteMeter Statistics."

Okay. Now. I know there are some of you out there, reading this blog, and I'm pretty sure you want me to put up something.

Anything. Anything other than listening to me bitch about my life.



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Quote of the Day

"Chess pieces can't die of a heart attack!"

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Adventures in non-posting of blogs!

Okay, wow. That made, like, no sense, at all.

I'm sorry about the whole not bothering to post for nearly a week thing -- really, I am -- I just... well... I didn't.

That's all there is too it. Well, I mean, the blinding migraines might have had something to do with it, as did the fact that I had to go up to three pills a day...

Yeah.

So, uh... hey. I'm back.

Isn't it great?

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Quote of the Day

"I'm not a leader of men. I'm a sitter of babies."

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This is what I put up with...

Ever heard of "idle racing"?

You and your buddies race, but... you idle. You never touch the gas.


The other interesting thing: Mount the windshield washer fluid sideways; y'know, so it doesn't wash your windshield, it shoots at cars next to you.

Yup. I was stuck in Rockstar Games' newest hit release -- Grand Theft Auto: Nowheresville Memorial High School.


Oh yeah. It rocked. Of course, the "your car burns through gas because you buy cheap gas that's laced with ethanol" versus "you drive an '84 Buick LeSabre -- why wouldn't it guzzle gas? It's a Goddamned boat" argument was interesting, at the very least.


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Quote of the Day

"I comment on people's blogs, and write things like, 'hey, I'm commenting!'"

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Quote of the Day

"You can't have the light without the dark to stick it in." -- Arlo Guthrie

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I @m teh mast3r!

For any one that's keeping score at home: I'm enrolled in college, I got an academic scholarship, I'm up for a second one, that I had to do the interview for.

I'm also in their Honors' Program. I just found out.

I never told you the story of the Honors application. I wasn't supposed to, but, since it has a nice, happy ending, I'm going to recount the story.

Let me start by saying this: All applications have to be processed through Pupil Personnel Services (otherwise known as "guidance"). They told me this two weeks before my early decision application was due. They also told me to hand in my application(s) up to a week early.

So I walk in with both of two applications: One, for the Universty of Maryland, Baltimore County. The second, for the Honors College within UMBC. The get mailed seperately because they're in two different offices.

I also went to all of the teachers that I wanted letters of recomendations from, and, as they all know the procedure, they simply gave them to my Guidance councelor. I handed my Guidance Councelor a list of which letters went with which application.

Fine.

She mailed them out.

All of a sudden, I get a letter from the Honors office, saying I was missing a letter. So, I went to the Guidance Councelor, and she said, very calmly, that she didn't send one of them out, because it was three sentences long. It was entirely insubstantial. It would have hurt me.

But why didn't she tell me?

Well, it was confidential. She couldn't tell me. She didn't even show me the letter.

Of course, there are only two readers of this blog that know which Guidance councelor of the six I was assigned to, and which teacher wrote the letter. And that's becuase they go to school with me. I told them flat out, even though I'm not really supposed to tell anyone.

So, yeah.

Two phone calls, three apologetic emails, and a replacement letter later, I got in.

Which my guidance councelor was pretty happy about.

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Now it all makes sense...

This is the true meaning of all that junk food you eat:

• Pretzels mean you're a flirt and you're very lively and energetic.


• Cheese curls mean you have great integrity and maintain a high moral ground.


• Potato chips mean you are aggressive, a real go-getter who will not take no for an answer.


• Tortilla chips mean you're a perfectionist. An "A" is not good enough for you. It has to be an "A+."


• Beef jerky means you're the life of the party. You're outgoing and gregarious.

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Road Trip Diary: New York to Maryland... and back.

Dad listens to the radio murmur quietly; one of the pious pundits talks furvently of righting wrongs and wornging rights.

No one listens.

The iPod says it's 5:43 and however many seconds. At teh moment, i only posess the right earphone; the left is firmly planted in mom's ear. "You have to buy me an iPod. It relaxes me in the car," she says.

So far as i know, we're still in New Jersey; i haven't seen any evidence to the contrary -- no toll booths, no "Delaware Welcomes You!" sort of signs.

Just road.

I wish i had my camcorder -- it hasn't arrived yet -- so that i could play. Nothing serious, just shots of the road, and all.

Oh, just paid a toll. NJ Turnpike, $3.10.

There you go. Still in Jersey.

---

And on your right, you'll see Aladin's mystical city of gold. It's really a factory of some kind; i have no idea what they produce. Every time we'd drive down, and it was night-time, it would be lit up; and my parents would tell me it was Aladin's city of gold.

You can see it from the Delaware Memorial bridge. I think it's the Delaware Memorial, at any rate, because the first thing you see after the bridge (past the city of gold) is a row of toll booths, crowned with the words "Delaware Memorial Bridge".

---

just saw the sign for Baltimore. "Baltimore / Wilmington". Saw afew others that say "Baltimore / Newark".

We're headed for Baltimore. Sort of.

Actually, we're headed for the school, which is kind of near BWI airport. But that's beside the point.

I'm listening to "Gethsemane" form a Russian recording of Jesus Christ Superstar. I can follow along (in English) because i knew it entirely by heart (in English).

---

"I think we're in Delaware rush-hour."

Well, there ya go. We're in Delaware. (Of course, the Bridge was probably a pretty good hint.)

---

I wish i had a camera of any kind with me right now. Especially my 35mm -- i call it 'mahalo'. I mean, granted, the light sucks, and i'm in a moving car, so they might not look too good when i developed the film; but it would make me feel better.

---

Yay! We're in Maryland! They actually had a sign, Not like that inconsiderate postage stamp people call Delaware.

---

Well, we just had dinner. It's dark, there aren't any streetlights, and i really can't see what i'm writing.

Strike that. There are the streetlights.

iPod says it's 8:04.

I got a book on friendship bracelets -- y'know, how to make them, and all. I'm going to be so absolutely wired that i won't even be able to write straight.

Not that i'm writing straight right now. I've got my feet on the edge of the seat, my knees on the back of the passenger seat, and i'm holding the book up at an angle so that i can catch other people's headlights.

A big shout-out to the blackish/dark-green/dark-blue (sry, can't tell) truck with Virginia plates.

What i'm thinking i might do is stop writing soon. I always do that.

Writing, i mean. Well, thinking too. I mean, i get into the car, and it's like, omG, Ki, shut up! Just stop thinking! So on long road trips, i bring a notebook, and when i've got that pencil in my hand, i just keep writing.

It doesn't matter if if follow the rules of capitalization -- i usually don't anyway -- the rules fo punctuation go right out the window.

Hell, half the time, it isn't even legible.

Like now.

---

You know what's scary?

Let me set this up for you. I need you to imagine this.

You're in the car. You've been in the car since 2:30 this afternoon. It is now 9:01. (You've been out of the car only twice -- once for dinner, and at that rest stop in Jersey.)

You have passed the sign for "Univ of Md. / Baltimore Co." twice -- once, you went straight through into Catonsville, and now, the second time, you're back on a highway.

It suddenly crosses your mind: Did i remember to pack mascara?

(the answer, by the way, was 'yes')

---

SATURDAY AFTERNOON Sometime around 4. NJ.

Well, i'd say i did pretty well.

Strike that. I kicked ass.

I was the only one that looked professional, and i knew what i was talking about.

Got a sweatshirt, and some tee-shirts, and bumper-stickers, and all...


I feel really good about this, even though i only got about a half hour's sleep in the suite at the Baltimore Best Western Travel Plaza.

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Quote of the Day

"History will be kind to me, as I wrote it." -- Winston Churchill

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Yeah, hi.

I kept a "road trip diary" -- i do that sometimes -- and i'm going to post that, in its entirety.

Fun.

And, in case anyone was wondering, i'm pretty sure i kicked ass on my interview.

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Quote of the Day

"That's what I want to do for my tenure year... get woozy with my students and drop things out the window."

</laukaisyn>

Quote of the Day

"This is, like, the most racist game ever. Black killing White, White killing Black..."

(the game in qestion was Chess.)

</laukaisyn>

Okay, so I lied. A little.

We all make new year's resolutions; and mine was to actually bother to post regularly.

I may not be doing that with HYPHEN-DASH, but I've certainly got Sixty Percent Chance of Rain under control. Every friday, check back, there should be a new chapter. Unless I forgot -- then it should be up by saturday... Even though they all say "posted by Laukaisyn at [insert friday's date] 03:01:00 PM".

But you get the point.

As a matter of fact, this week, I'm posting Chapter VI a day early! Yeah! Isn't that awesome?

Well, I'm doing that 'cause I'm going to be in Maryland tomorrow. *(Yeah, I know, that came out of absolutely no where.)* And I can hear you whining, But Laukaisyn, Why Maryland?

Simple. By sometime next year, the "about me" part of the gray side-bar will read

Name:(Ki) Laukaisyn
Location: Somewhere Near Baltimore, Maryland, United States

It's a college interview.

Again, the diligent ones that have been reading for a while start whining, But, Laukaisyn, I thought you already got into college!

Yup. I did. This is the interview for a scholarship. I have to go down to the school, talk to them, and convince them that, not only did they do well in choosing me as a finalist for this scholarship, but that, yes, I do deserve the money.

It's on saturday morning, so we're driving down on friday, and spending a nice, relaxing evening down there.

Sounds like fun, doesn't it?


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Quote of the Day

"I want someone to sue Harvard, for not admitting stupid people."

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Quote of the Day

"On a totally unrelated note, he's my new hero."

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I know some of you really enjoy Quote of the Day...

...or, at least, some of my friends have told me so.

I think they had alterior motives for telling me that, though.

They wanted me to start the Quote Book® up again -- it's that thing, that I did before I had a blog, and before I had a nifty place to post freaky quotes.

At any rate, I have three years of quote books -- grades nine, ten, and eleven. Twelfth grade seemed promising, but just never panned out. But I got the Quote Book® back, so it's all good!

I'm going to start posting stuff periodically -- or, rather, in a more normal pattern -- than I have been. I've got a whole bunch for you today.

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