:D

Wrote way over 500 words in the last hour.

Now I can't stop, and I need to sleep. Got work tomorrow.

I have unleashed unspeakable horrors upon myself.

Finally got to Macy's introduction. She's so bitchy in the morning :)

Writing goals and other things

In the wake of my younger sister's writing success, I'm instituting a minimum word count.

I have been trying to write ZERO for two years. I am on chapter two.

Every day, effective tomorrow, I will write at least 500 words of either ZERO, The Ides of November, or Red Dawn. I will likely stick to ZERO, though.

My ultimate goal was, after all, to have written it before 2012.

In other news, I opened art commissions. How sad am I.

My face got tagged

Also I'm bored

Deal with it

List 10 (music) Artists you love, in no particular order, without looking at the questions below.
1. STYX
2. Ladytron
3. Royksopp
4. Daft Punk
5. Foo Fighters
6. Coldplay
7. Owl City
8. Kraftwerk
9. ABBA
10. Rammstein



Now for the questions!!!!!

1. What was the first song you've ever heard by 6?
Um, I feel like it was Yellow, or Speed of Sound.

2. What's your favourite song of 8?

Metropolis perhaps?

3. What kind of impact has 1 left on your life?
STYX gives me chills and reminds me of the Appalachian mountains. I listen to them when I'm sad, when I'm lonely, when I'm sick or frustrated and then I'm magically cured by their awesome.

4. What's your favourite lyric of 5's?

"Time will turn us into statues, eventually."

5. How many times have you seen 4 live?
Zero :c

6. What's your favourite song of 7?
Cave In :P

7. Is there any song of 3 that makes you sad?
What Else is There? haunts me, it brings me to a place I hope I'll never have to see :c

8. What's your favourite song by 9?
The Winner Takes It All <3

9. How did you first get into 2?
Oh goodness, through Last.fm searching artists similar to...Royksopp, I believe? I feel in love with them instantly. They're so talented.

10. How did you first get into 3?
Last.fm, searching artists similar to Daft Punk or Digitalism, can't remember.

11. What's your favourite song by 4?
Digital Love <3

12. How many times have you seen 9 live?

None, and I never will, for they broke up many eons ago before I was conceived.

13. What is a good memory concerning 10?
Rammstein takes me either: a) back to tenth grade when I was in a bad place or b) to the fictional world of one of my novels

14. Are there any songs of 8 that make you sad?
The Hall of Mirrors is really haunting, but most of their stuff is more upbeat.

15. What is your favourite song of 1's?

The Best of Times :D

16. How did you become a fan of 10?
Angry German music? Pffft, I have noooo idea...

Captain's Log, Golf Foxtrot Tango Mike

After some deliberation, some convenient timing, and some begging and pleading, I embarked on a road trip to my nation's capital, the glorious city of Ottawa.

The reasons behind this trip were clear, and duly outlined- to tour a prospective college, and to take an intro flight at the Ottawa Flying Club.

So, after staying overnight halfway, we made it to Ottawa at almost exactly noon today, and proceeded to fetch lunch at a local Subway. I was starting to get jittery after so much driving in a new city and the apprehension was starting to kick in. It's been three whole years since I last flew, but I'd planned my entire future on flight. Scary shit.

Anyways, I got to the flight school, and got a really stupid grin on my face watching a couple big jets thunder overhead. The building itself was small and looked very tidy, tucked behind two large buildings right on the edge of the airport itself. After calling my dad and taking a deep breath, we entered the building, armed with questions.

After-naturally-having 90% of our questions answered (doubtless, more will turn up later) I was introduced to the flight instructor who would take me flying, a young guy named Cory, who won the Webster's award for being literally the best private pilot in the country. We took off the Cessna's coat (apparently they have engine blankets to help keep the oil warmer, who knew!) and walked around a little to check on its status. Then-after fetching some cushions, since we were both a little short to see out- I strapped myself in, slammed the door shut, and prepared myself. I had too much trouble getting the door on the old aircraft to shut, to which the pilot let me know sometimes they like to swing open during flight. Yikes.

After some chat and going through a very long list of checks and getting clearances from ATC, we taxied close to the bottom of the runway. One thing I never knew about those planes is that you control the yaw (traditional left to right motion, like driving) with two pedals. Left pedal, veer left. Right, veer right. Hit the top of either with your toe, it's the brake. So, I got to explore this very odd steering, and I wasn't bad at it. Apparently, it's one of the most challenging things to learn about flying. That's a bit of a relief.

Finally, after another engine and brake check, and getting clearance for take off, we taxied to the end of the runway, set engines to full power, and shot forward, taking off into the air.

You could really feel the wind once you got up there. It was like going over the Skyway bridge in my little car on a bad day, except I was in a tin can of a plane two thousand feet above Parliament. He showed me the basic controls, and I took over.

It was both exhilarating and terrifying.

Not knowing whether the wind is what caused that big bump or your lack of experience is a thrill, and not in the good way. After some time I got the hang of fighting the wind. It's nearly the same as driving, just angling toward the wind. Simple enough.

So, I flew over Harper's house, over Parliament, over the Rideau canal and the Scotia Bank centre where the Sens play, and returned to the airport with a smile still on my face and feeling glad I hadn't crashed the plane, he noticed my mom video taping us, haha. Taxied back to the flight centre, shut off the engine and all the controls, and de-planed, took some pictures, bought my first log book.

I'm hell bent on coming back here for the fall.

Rant.

What is it with people these days?

Listen, and listen well. Er, read well. Whatever.

When you come as a guest to a park, a store, a hotel-anything-keep in mind that, in 90% of cases, the employees happen to know what they're doing. They know the prices of merchandise, opening and closing times, what cable packages include what, how much everything costs...the whole she-bang.

For the record, I've just started a new job at a waterpark in Niagara Falls. Yes, I DID just get the job, but before I started I got to read FOUR booklets on how to deal with every possible situation I might ever come across, and my first two shifts were spent with seasoned employees who passed on their knowledge to me. There are even signs EVERYWHERE stating the obvious rules of the park.

At Marineland, I had to deal with a LOT of complaints and stupid guests, but I haven't been so infuriated by a guest in a very long time.

Okay, so, keeping in mind that I know in theory AND in practice how to do my job, let me share a nice little story with you. I was guarding the dry playground area of the waterpark, which is like the play areas you used to find in McDonald's around the States. It had different rules from the other parts of the park-you have to be dry to go in, and UNDER 48 inches tall.

The slightly too-tall kids were being good and there were few toddlers in the area, so I didn't enforce the height too much, but somehow an adult woman slipped past and appeared at the top of the middle slide. I'd really like there to be a minimum height for that slide-it's about 10 feet up, and kids come shooting off it like rockets. Anyways, she sat her 15-month old baby in her lap and, DOING MY JOB, blew my whistle. "One at a time," I said firmly. Usually people just listen to me, since they can't go down otherwise at all. However, this lady said, just as firmly, "he's too little to go by himself."

"No, that's the rule. One at a time."

"But he's too little!"

"Sorry, one at a time or you don't come down at all. That's the rule for everybody."

After some more pointless arguing, and instead of taking the logical route and climbing back down the stairs (DUH!) this lady decides she's going to spider-crawl down the slide with the kid in her lap. Okay, whatever, I'm at the bottom of the slide, can't stop her anyways, can I? And then- I couldn't believe this- she stops at the top of the big drop, and DROPS HER KID.

Threw him like a bowling ball.

Anyways, this kid is barely a toddler, and he was fucking TINY, and it's a big slide even for older kids AND adults- and he tumbles down over and over to the bottom.

I watched this in silence, thinking all the time..."you've got to be fucking kidding me...."

Then this bitch has the gall to blame ME for it. Keep in mind I assumed she was going to crawl the ENTIRE way down the slide with the kid.

"I shouldn't have listened to you! Look what happened! You're such an idiot! *grumble mumble mumble*"

I kept my cool, muttering: "It wasn't my choice to take a baby down a slide he was too small for."

(The kid was perfectly fine, by the way. I don't even think he had enough brain power to realize he was ON a slide in the first place)

Anyways, the bitch stormed off, and I rolled my eyes and continued with my job.

So, why, WHY IN THE WORLD, would she blame ME for HER tossing HER child down a huge slide? I didn't tell you to spider-crawl down, I told you to go down one at a time or get the fuck out, but she didn't listen to me. Guess what happens when you don't listen to staff? You fail as a parent.

I'm by no means an idiot because YOU decided not to listen to the park rules. It is very clearly stated on ALL signs that staff instructions must be obeyed. Don't hate me for being in charge of the welfare of your child and hundreds of other children and adults alike in the park. Just suck it up, obey the rules, and try to be a decent human being next time.

Planes

I can't believe I only have three pictures of airplanes on my hard drive...

Lanc, Boeing 747, Boeing Dreamliner.

Dream Home

Being the nerdling that I am, I have already found several designs I want in my future home. Being a future freak, they are all, of course, futuristic. Here's some of my inspirational pictures:

My house is going to SO COOL.

I want a 60's house so bad. Can you imagine the architecture of a trendy house from the 60's, gutted and renovated with chrome, black granite, and futuristic furniture? Yes, please!

Airships

Some of my favourite airship pictures. I wish they had never gone out of style, it must have been an amazing feeling to look up and see a 600-foot or longer airship hovering overhead.

Such marvels of engineering.

Blimps just don't cut it, do they?

Bring back rigid airships!

...I wish.

For the record, these are NOT my photos and I do NOT remember where I got them from. Sorry.

Music and Memories

Everytime I hear that stupid Taio Cruz song on the radio, I can't help but smile.

Dynamite was THE song of the summer while I worked at Marineland. Every morning on the way to work, I'd hear it on the radio. On the way home, again. Perhaps even during hours I'd hear bits and pieces of it. Now, two seasons later, whenever I think of the light blue water or hear the SWOOSH of the rides, I smile and remember that song. It has woven itself into my memories of working at the park.

My senses have always interwoven themselves with memories, as I'm sure everyone else's does. Smelling a lip balm I used to use brings me right back to the days I spent fawning over my then-boyfriend and the trips to Toronto I used to take, and of the carefree school life I seemed to live, of flip-flops and cool grass under my feet, even the grey jacket I never seemed to take off during that time. Simply thinking about past vacations in South Carolina and Florida, I can very nearly smell the salty-sweet air of the Atlantic ocean. Hearing the screech of metal on metal- specifically that of a subway, and the rush of the wind past your face from the monstrous machine invokes in me a nervous reaction of shaking hands and a rush of blood to the head.

Music, however, has always been infinitely more effective at this than a mere smell or even a touch. Sometimes it's wonderful, everytime I hear the song Mr. Blue Sky by ELO I am reminded instantly of success, simply because the first time I ever heard it was when I got in the car after getting hired for my first job. The song What Else Is There by Royksopp reminds me of a web comic I consumed whilst listening to the band obsessively. However, sometimes it brings heavier thoughts to my mind.

Te Amo, a beautiful song by Rihanna, now gives me the creeps because I first opened my eyes to the MK Ultra mind control horror while listening to it. I cannot even stomach any of Lady Gaga's new material after reading about everything for over a year. For a long time, my very favourite song- Digital Love, by Daft Punk- became taboo because I had dedicated it to my ex-boyfriend.

Every day at work, a particular song comes on, and every time it does my stomach drops and it feels like the world is bearing down on my chest. I can't stand it. To be honest, I didn't like the song when I first heard it, but a certain someone decided it would be our song anyways. He played it for me a few times, and those memories make me want to be sick. It's a sweet song, but it had nothing to do with us. He was disgusting. I've had to excuse myself from situations if the song came on because I can't handle all those memories of him that come with one stupid four minute song. Even now I feel sick.

Right now, I'm obsessed with Ke$ha and Daft Punk's TRON soundtrack. Let's see if any of these songs stick to any memories in the future.

Is There Anybody Out There?

March 3rd, 2052

Tonight I'm leaving this place.

I know it's taken me four years to make up my mind, and I'm scared shitless, but I have to get out or I'll go crazy.

The world has to know. They have to. Right now they're as good as dead- walking corpses. If the world doesn't have time to prepare, everything we've worked so hard to create will destroyed. I feel sick to my stomach just thinking about how little time we have left. Life is short to begin with...no one deserves this. Not a single soul on this planet, save for the three men who started this mess. I don't even believe in God but every night I pray to him.

It seems like such a simple thing, to walk straight out the door and just never look back, but it isn't. The guards stand constant like sentinels, their eyes veiled behind dark sunglasses. You don't even know if they're actually watching you, or if they're even breathing. It scares the hell out of me. I want to go home so badly. I haven't seen William in three years. I don't even know if he's still waiting for me. For all I know he could be dead, laying 6-feet under with so many other spouses and family of some who work here.

I don't even know if anyone will ever find this letter...there's such a small chance it will make it into the hands of someone who can DO something about all this, but it's worth taking. For the future.

Death is the only escape. I refuse to work for these monsters any longer.

Enclosed are detailed records and blueprints about everything they're doing here. Please, please, share them with the world. I'm counting on you. I have no idea who you are, where you're from, or what you do, but it doesn't matter. Thank you. Thank you for everything.

William, if you're out there, I'm sorry.

Leah Evans

Silly things

For some reason I'm certain this is the first internet meme. However, I haven't been on the internet long enough to know. I am on a quest to find out the answer.

L4D2 Joke. Never played? Try it, even if you suck it's super fun and deliciously addicting.

Yup, this bird exists. There's a neat documentary out there everyone and their mother has watched in Bio at some point, featuring a wacky troupe of tropical birds.

Finally got her damn uniform right. Now I don't have you draw you in random girly dresses anymore!

Helen Austerlitz, the polizeikommandant of Berlin's midnight police.

I AM

I feel so much better about myself than I have in years. What brought about this, you may ask? Well, I had a bit of break through. Believe it or not, I'm socially retarded, meek, and shy. I dislike new things because I'm afraid of failure to the point where it's crippling. I'm tired of being a negative Nellie about everything in my life and I'm going to turn every "no" into a "FUCK YES!" This is the beginning of the Monica who has been hiding in the corner waiting for her moment. I'm forcing her out into the world, because whether she likes it or not, I AM, and I'm going to BE.

Don't like it? That's fine. You'll break free someday too.