Thursday, November 30, 2006

How random are my comments, all in one sentence.

I put this on this post.

Yay I love that book! Its such a great book! I've read Outcasts of 19... too, and yes I like Shadow City better, I'm re-reading it now, you named your screen name after it didn't you? Have you found the blog? its at And also on the screen names I use my name because I really like it and i'm not using the full one, and there are probably a tonne of Todos Santos's in Mex. 'cause everyone wants to say they're a saint. anyway you have a really cool blog and thanks for commenting on mine, have a nice day or a nice monkey if you perfer.

B is for Blackmail, C is for Coward, M is for Mafia, N are for Notes, O is for Opinions.

30 November 2006 a. d. (Year of the Lion 13, Year of the Cat System), IN Bloggerland, TS, My World, Mexico, The World, The Solar System, The Milky Way, The Universe, World XII B, The Related Worlds, The Whole General Mish Mash.

ASUNTO: The relative un-Mexican-ness and uncanny knowledge of the Mafia which the not-as-estimada-as-some-people-would-rather Mrs. K possesses and utilizes to gross-out and annoy yours truly, her friend Z, and the whole class of 6 "B".

To my respected readers,

Mrs. K seems to have uncanny knowledge of the modus operandi of the Mafia. This, among other things, I found out during a discussion of a recent kidnapping that my teacher planned (the discussion, I mean, not the kidnapping XD) to try to mortify R, but when that didn't work very well she settled for grossing us out and later getting in a argument on morals with me, a rather principled person. Here are the basics, numbered for your convenience, Strike and SebThePleb and Mr. Pat and Dad and whoever else is reading...

  1. A girl was kidnapped.
  2. This triggered a discussion about drug sellers, the Mafia (the "Family" in English, La "Corporacion" (the "Corporation") in Spanish), and threatening phone calls, during which I learned:
  3. A guy wrote a song that mentioned the Mafia and stuff in it. (this is all according to Mrs. K, so if you're in the Mafia and you're reading this, and you're mad, threaten her, not me) The day before he was supposed to sing it in concert, he got a phone call: "don't sing that". He sang it. He was shot driving away. Though only about six or seven bullets got in him, apparently ten times that, sixty or seventy, were embedded in the car.
  4. My teacher gave another example about blackmail: a guy is selling drugs and is in with the Mafia, he says he wants out, "my family and this and that and my kids and-". They kidnap his daughter. He won't give in. They start sending him fingers in the mail. (think Sick Puppy (Carl Hiassen)) She says that is why he should've given in.
  5. I say, "Professor?" "Yeah?" "I know why someone would do something like that, even with the threat of... personal harm and death and stuff. If it was the right thing." "Speak up girl I can't here you." I repeated myself. "No you see the right thing is to preserve yourself. The good thing to do is to save your own skin." She repeated this several times.
  6. Z (my best friend at school who happens to be a girl and, luckily, sits right next to me, in such a position that we two are the lucky farthest from Mrs. K's desk; she only caught us at it once and that time we were only saying "Hi" "Hi" "How are you doing?" "Good, you?" "I'm tired I woke up early" "That sucks." "Yeah.", and we both said blandly and innocently that we had something to say to each other on the subject of her lecture, which, I artfully added, was very good; we didn't want to disturb the class by whispering; we're sorry, professor ^cue puppy eyes^, we were just trying to be polite!) passed me a note (we do this a lot): (translated from the Spanish by yours truly)
    Me: I don't understand why the Teacher wanted to mortify R... And why is she always mortifying poor F?
    Z: (after my speech) You are right; she only wants to be right.
    Me: She's talking like a coward who only cares about her own skin. If you could save people by sacrificing yourself, would you? I would, if it was the right thing to do...
    And she seems to know way too much about the Mafia.
    Z: Me too. I don't know why she knows so much about the Mafia what do you think?
    And as I passed her desk, I whispered, "I don't know, but it sure does seem suspicious."
Thank whatever higher powers there might be she didn't catch us that time!
But really, when I think about it, in a culture that glorifies patriotism and honor and doing the right thing, she was being really un-Mexican! And she's supposed to set a good example for the kids! It seems like its us setting an example for her!

In conclusion, you can probably see why I called this post what it is called. One more note: the way I lettered it is mimicking the titles of the Kinsey Milhone novels by Sue Grafton.

Until next time,

Cosima the Principled.

PS~ One time about Escolta, I was telling Mom about how the Escolta (honor/flag guard) teacher was glorifying people who died for the flag. "So you'd drop the flag and run?" she asked. After considering a moment, I said, "No, I'd grab the flag and run. You know, it would be good for bopping anyone who looked at me funny on the head with." Then the red would be even redder. And yes, I could probably hurt someone seriously with that thing. It's like twenty pounds! I've carried it. While marching. In one hand.

PS2~ I wrote this as a mockery of a formal letter, Mexican style, since that is what we studied today.

PS3~ Teacher-bashing is very therapeutic, my friends! So is Mary-Sue bashing!

Update on the Joke about the Lamari Butterfly...

La Mariposa is Spanish for the butterfly. The joke was Dad's idea. Today Nostra dismantled another dead bird. I got some of the feathers. It was really pretty. Black and white feathers. I'm with my dad today.

Tuesday, November 28, 2006

Dismantle the Dead Bird.

Nostradamus dismantled a dead bird yestarday, feathers all over the guest house - office porch and all that nuisance; I wasn't sick to my stomach but it was kind of... gross... watching him tear off the wings and the head and the feathers of the wing...


I made myself feel sick. Damn.

The Lamari Butterfly

Today on the way to El Zaguan Dad and I found a half-dead butterfly; it was black and dark blue and orange and white, and velvety. I'll post a photo-- or two-- or five-- when Dad gets them to me; it was really amazing and it took the poor thing all of lunch to die. Then I brought it back to the office and took the photos; it is now buried under a rock outside, during the burial theroff I intoned,

Under this rock lies Butterfly, child of Butterfly, Rest In Peace.
It was dubbed Lamari-- La Mariposa, get it?

Friday, November 24, 2006

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

My Grand Plan

My Grand Plan:
To make it easier on anyone who reads this, I'm going to create a new blog every year (so around every New Years (standard, not Jewish or Chinese or... lol.) but this one will stick around 'till the one after next. The next one will be... Pink, methinks.

Better, I'll do a new one every school year. Yeah! So this one will stick around until sometime in August 2007. So almost a year. And if you're wondering, I'm figuring this way if anyone wants to read the complete archives, in theory it should make it easier so you just have to read the archives of one year each. And this way I'll introduce all the teachers once a year. I think.

And if it weren't for randomness, I'd have nothing to say.

I'm just showing my support for this website, because they made the Fire Fox plugin that I use to search with when Google just won't cut it. Anyway, this one's one of their coolest ones.
See what I mean? It even matches the blog.

Tuesday, November 21, 2006


I just got a website up on Google Page Maker Labs (Google is brilliant :)):
Think Again, Human- the official homepage of Cosima Cat. Lol. And I opened a new email address to use for Blogger-- I like assigning certain emails certain purposes. This one can be found on my profile.

Since I did all that hard work and read all the updates on the blogs I follow except the good ones I'm saving for tommorrow, I think I'll play some computer games now, because my poor brain needs a rest from all that serious thinking lol.

Monday, November 20, 2006

I started posting on Project Lalingpap

... so check it out! It's a story-blog so start with the first entry and work your way up. It's sci-fi.

Lookie What I Found!

Just found a pretty cool game on a website. Check this out:

Miniclip Games - Cell Out
Cell Out

Hit the white balls with your green ring, avoiding the red balls.

Play this free game now!!

It doesn't take long to play and it's pretty adictive ;). Very stress reliveing.

PS- My username in the High-Scores is Shadow, in case I ever get that high in them :)

The Rooster and the Basket Ball


One kid pretending to be a solder had a rooster tied to a post while he was waiting for something to happen and the rooster threw a temper tantrum, scaring a 'Maria' he was talking to and startling me into laughing. He conquered the bad-tempered bird by grabbing him by the tail and feet, and then cooing over him until he calmed down. Another kid dressing up as a solder picked up the fallen feather and tried to stick it in his cap, unsuccessfully.

THE BASKET BALL (and the Baseball Cap)

A girl whose name I can't recall and I were playing with a basket ball when it over-bounced and went behind me...
To where a group of people dressed up as medics were standing...
Being taken a photo of by Mr. Alvaro Colindres...
Who was wearing a baseball cap...
The ball went right over his head with barely a milimetre (I'm using the English spelling `cause I like it. So sue me.) to spare...
And hit the bill of his cap.
And bounced.
We had a good laugh about that.
But at the time, I bet it startled him.

Wow. It didn't take that long, amazingly. Just two and a half hours to go, fool around, walk around, watch the rooster have a temper tantrum (more on that later), listen to someone being philosophical (again, more later, when my brain is less fuzzied), almost get run over by bikes, get into formation, get into a different formation, walk, watch the flag fall apart, walk more, get to the stadium, avoid the horse poo while you're doing your lap around it, LEAVE!, buy some stuff to eat/drink, walk home, wait for Mom to get back, have Mom unlock the office, start up computer, sign in, go to Blogger Beta.
Start time: 8:00
Finish: 10:33

Sunday, November 19, 2006

In Which I Will Dare To Explain The Chicken Fat

If something is off topic, I'll say: What does that have to do with chicken fat? The origin of this is passover of 2005, when it was said that the way they decided who to invite when there was a serious lack of Judisim in the town in which Bloggerland, My World is currently oriented (fine: TS. That's all you're getting out of me! Wait hey!!! Get away from me with those thumbscrews [whatever thumbscrews are], Torquemada Sun!!! Heyyyyyy!!!!!!! ow.) (anyway) so they invited anyone who had ever had any association with Chicken Fat (think dumplings, me think). They said that because in that one (I don't know about the others) there was a Short History of Passover in TS, in Other Words a SoWY (Series of Weird Yarns).

Anyways, what does the not-as-theoretical-as-they/it/him/her/them-used-to-be Readerpopulace (I got assurance that someone reads this. I feel so happy.) think of my new font scheme? They/it/him/her/them may not have noticed, or they may be like me and would have noticed and also are able to ID most common and a couple less common font families on sight. FYI the blog posts and titles are Verdana and the titles for the sidebar are Georgia (the font that Blogger uses for the WYSIWYG editor), for the sake of useless and probably not very interesting to people who do not share my need to know every! little! tiny! insignificant! thing! and lack of other blogging material. Also Angelique (from It's Raining Noodles!) commented in response to one of my comments. I was more shocked than I was the first time I got two shout-outs in a row on, and almost as delighted as I was when I found out someone reads this (thanks, Seb Temlett! You rock!). Just in the category of random ranting there XD.

Friday, November 17, 2006

Stuck in the Traffic

There was a huge accident really close to here. A semi-trailer carrying HUGE date palms skidded around a curve and overbalanced. We were stuck in the resulting traffic (It blocked both lanes of our two-lane highway) for two hours, until we turned back and stayed in LC. No one was hurt in the accident, unless being bored and cramped counts (but that was the result). We stayed till 7:20, but then, since it was evident that it was going to be longer (they said 1-2 hours, but they said that an hour before, and afterward someone said that something of that size would DEFINITELY be at least 6 hours) we turned around and had a delightful night at a place that El C has a deal with (we run an ad free when there's room, they give us a room when there's room), albeit one that involved sleeping on the couch in my case.

But at least no one was hurt-- AND I got to skip two days of school, which is good, I was thoroughly sick of my teacher.

Thursday, November 16, 2006

House Bare in a Manner of Speaking, Room Empty, Bloggeress Who Will Soon Be in LC and SJdC (big cities close together, in different municipals)

Yes, the title does not lie! My room is empty! I never thought I'd see the day... AND I'm getting a new door. And all the stuff from my room (which makes up about one-third of the stuff in the house) is in Mom's room. And all the stuff from Mom's room (or at least most of it) (this is getting confusing) is in the dining room, which is actually part of the kitchen, which is pointess information that I'm tossing out because I can't think of anything else to say. Oh! Yeah, I'm going to our 'Twin Cities': LC and SJdC. I can't tell more, because then it would be personal info, and I am scared of stalkers, although I do have three cats with sharp claws, a 1/4 wolf dog, and a part rottweiler to protect me. Yay! So maybe I can stop quaking in my shoes... ;)... nope. Oh well. Gotta go!

Friday, November 10, 2006

Mastheads of Doom

After an easy Google search (Google is my friend. Google is my friend. Google knows a lot. Google is good.) I found this on mastheads. It is all well and good, but I can't figure out-- the templates are different in Beta. I was just reporting my frusturation at, well, BLOGGER! Urgh! Darn you!:@ :@ :@ :@ :@ :@ :@ :@!!!!!!!! Ato the general Internetulace1 and in particular, my Webloggerlace2, assuming, as always, that I have one.

This is the header:

What do you think? (if you couldn't read it, it said: Mind the butterflies! It's Raining Cats and Frogs.)

A: The emoticon means I am angry. The Skype version of it is very good, it first has an angry yellow face which gets redder-- and redder-- and then it explodes ^boop^ into a pile of dust!

1: Internetulace (In-ter-net-too-lus)
The populace of the Internet; people on the Internet.
Origins: The nowhere that is my brain Cosima Rose, currently of Bloggerland, My World, Mex.
Related: Webblogerlace (readership of a web blog)

2: Weblogerlace (also known as Bloggerlace, Bloglace, Webbloggerlace, Webbloglace, etc) (Web-blog-ger-lus)
Populace that reads a web blog, generally members of the Internetulace
Origins: The nowhere that is my brain Cosima Rose, currently of Bloggerland, My World, Mex.
Related: Internetulace.

The D'Arvitting Update on the Post Called D'Arvit~ In a Limerick.

The tile is now cemented to the wall by the front door.
I'm not saying any more
On the subject.
Or the object.
Of this bore.

Bore of a post, I mean.

Monday, November 06, 2006

November 5

I just realized I let November 5th pass without using the Guy Fawkes Plot as an excuse to be myself more oddly than usual-- in other words, to be weird. Hmmph!! Bad Bima! So-- remember, remember, the 5th of November. For next year. So I can bother weirdness-haters even more. Hah!

I'm not sure who I side with on it. Better to sit back, watch the show, catch the sparks from the bonfires. Mmm, fire...

Sunday, November 05, 2006


I'm giving people pseudonyms or using their initials or using the initials of their pseudonyms. Anyway, some characters in this romp called my life:

  • Mrs. V.-M.
    My idol. She's smart, she's nice, she's an artist/photographer/jounalist, and she likes cats [and has 18]. What's not to like about her?

  • Dudette
    Girl in my school, in 6A. American.

  • Ms. K.
    My teacher. Don't like her much; we both have a talent for saying the exact thing to get the other fuming.

  • Dude
    Used to be in my school, also known by Hated Pinhead (not to be confused with Harry Potter). Evil. Mean. Dudette's best friend's brother. Lives in LP.

  • G H
    My best (guy) friend. (JUST A FRIEND, MIND YOU) Very nice, is very good at controlling his anger and seems to get along with everyone (complete opposite of yours truly) Loves cats. Has two brothers. Could probably recognize himself if he was reading this. If he is, tell him I say "hi", Computer.

  • Mini-Dude (MD =D that's funny) (not to be confused with Little Dude)
    Dude's little brother-- impolite, infuriating, and has baby-kid impunity. Very annoying and sometimes curses and/or tries to hit you with anything he can get his grubby little hands on. Hates showers, which is why I described his hands as "grubby".

  • Little Dude (LD)
    Dudette's little brother. Her whole family is being called "dude" or related words, by the way; it seems to me that they're all sort of surfer-ish people, so in a way it was a compliment.

  • Mr. and Mrs. D
    Dudette, Big Dude, and Little Dude's parents

  • Big Dude (BD)
    Dudette's big brother; two years older than her and sort of short; the Big Dude was a joke.

  • Mr. H
    G's dad. Very nice. Cook.

  • Mrs. H
    G's (man, it's hard getting used to these psuedonyms) mom. Also very nice. Actually, let's just say, HIS WHOLE FAMILY IS NICE, so I don't have to keep repeating.

  • Jerry
    Mrs. V.-G.'s husband. Sort of nice, in a way, but a vicious teaser and annoying, except on the 30th of February; the 31st of September, November, April, and May, etc.

  • V H
    G's other brother; 15, I think. I don't see him much; he's not around as much as the other two. Likes to surf and skateboard.

  • D H
    G's oldest brother; as of today, almost 18. Funny, homeschooled, computer person, trickster. Answers the phone a lot because it's by the computer; one time I called, and, as usual, he answered...
    Me: Hi, it's Cosima
    D: Oh, hi, Cosima (G's family, Mrs. N, and a few others are the only people who call me by my first name most of the time)
    Me: Hi, D. Can I speak to G?
    D: Sure. Hold on.
    *static and random noises and some clunking and cat sounds*
    Me: Hi, G...
    V: Huh?
    Me: Can I please speak to G? ^grumbling^ I am going to kill D...
    So you can see that he is, indeed, a trickster. Meh.

Next, we Meet the Cats!

House Bare, Awaiting Tiling, as of One Week Ago

Some pre-remodeling pics. Will put more, some day.

Meet Nostradamus Kay Lloyd

This is Nostradamus Kay Lloyd, the youngest and only male of my three cats. Isn't he cute!

Friday, November 03, 2006

Evil traffic agents and oscilating ocelots

The evil trafic agents came today. They showed us gory videos and slideshows that made me want to puke-- preferably on the guy's shoes, which were nicely polished. Bleh. Evil!!

Oscilating ocelots! OMDG (Oh My D'Arvitting God {Sort of like *cringes to use it* OMFG *cringes* *washes mouth and fingers and disinfects keyboad* *comes back* Except, the third word is, according to Eoin Colfer, a Gnommish curse word.}) I actually worked up the sheer nerve to switch to Blogger Beta! And... I like it? I like it! I like it. I like it. I like it? I like it. I like it. I like it. And that terminates my experimentation with font styles to emphasize specific words :). Yep, audience, I'm using you as guinea pigs. Hah!

Anyway, that's about it. But if anyone can give me advice on template design or something so I don't have to muddle through the Blogger Help and can blog for you (assuming someone reads this). If it isn't too much trouble. And, once again:

Thursday, November 02, 2006


The bathroom of my house used to have quirky, not very well done rock walls. In the shower there was a small mural made of tiles, depicting dolphins.

Now the bathroom is being remodled, and the dolphins must go.

The man who took them out, the husband of one of my mother's best friends, tried his best to preserve my beloved dolphin tiles.

Only one was saved. The three others were chipped, or, in one case, broken in half.

Why am I making such a big deal? you ask. Don't you know how soothing a nice hot shower can be? For me, it was comforting having the dolphins to stare at, to write on with a wet finger or a wet soap bar.

When the tiles, broken but for one, were presented to me, I wanted to scream and rage at the nice person who had tried so hard to save them.

But that wasn't fair; it wasn't his fault. Who's fault was it? No one's. How uncomfortable, having no one to blame.

So instead of the immediate reaction that came to mind, I mumbled, "Thanks." and ran off to take comfort in an abstraction of metal and plastic, that cannot think or hope, but is connected to the Internet.

Isn't it apropriate that it's Day of the Dead?

Gods, I hate funerals.

Maybe studying for tomorow's tests will stop me crying for not much of a reason.

I hate crying.


Wool Jackets, Font Tags, and Song Parodies, Oh My!

I am wearing lightweight pants and a (lightweight-ish) red wool jacket. Hooray for winter!

Also this is a song of mine, to the tune of... what's that one that begins, Joseph's face was as black as the night/ The pale yellow moon shone in his eyes/ His path was thought out/ Like the stars of the Southern Hemisphere/ And he lived his days/ Under African Skies// This is the story of how we begin to remember/ This is the powerful pulsing of love in the veins/ After a dream of calling and calling your name out...? I think it's called "African Skies" or "Under African Skies" but I'm not sure. Anyway, this is to the tune of that. And the "a-dumba dumba dumba whoa-oh-oh"s are sort of rhythm things, in the background. Without further ado;

this is the story of a girl who fought to remember
against the pressure of society and the world, yeah
she knew those who said they knew best mostly didn't
because what they told her was to forget
a-dumba-dumba-dumba- whoa-oh-oh
she searched and didn't find, what world she belonged in
she dreamed of a magical world to which she could not get
blinded by longing, she followed the path laid out
with resentment but not a thought of "out you get"
until one day she was shocked into opening her eyes, yeah
and broke out of the dismal template they had set
a-dumba-dumba-dumba- whoa-oh-oh
such is the fate of those who fight to remember
an anxious longing for what you can't get
the fate of the philosopher, the curious, the writer
open your eyes and search for something that may not be there

this is the feeling of calling a name, yeah
a name quite dusty but never forgotten, never, yeah
silently screaming hopelessly one word
silently searching, to whom might the word belong

dust off the grimy parcel that you recovered
from the back of your mind, condemned to death
by those who fear, therefore hate, the imagination
those who to you once listened but no more

a-dumba-dumba-dumba- whoa-oh-oh

so dust off your parcel and sing, sing with me
that name never quite forgotten
perhaps a title, perhaps someone not here no more
I'll take that chance, what do you say, now

a-dumba-dumba-dumba- whoa-oh-oh

this is the story of how you should try to remember
you who's path is a star-stair, come to me
we can fight together against the malignancies of ignorance
you and me, and all the others, we'll be free

so take that key from around your neck and unlock this cage of uncertainty
a-dumba-dumba-dumba- whoa-oh-oh

this is the story of how she began to remember
this is how she calls, she calls your name now
she who followed a path, a path to the stars

a-dumba-dumba-dumba- whoa-oh-oh

there are life-paths laid out in constellations
who's path is a star-stair to greater things
they who's dreams are of calling, of calling a name now
your path is a star-stair, follow it, break free, now

a-dumba-dumba-dumba- whoa-oh-oh

this is the story of how she began to remember
this is how she calls, she calls your name now
this is the story of how i began to remember
this is how i call, i call your name now

a-dumba-dumba-dumba- whoa-oh-oh
a-dumba-dumba-dumba- whoa-oh-oh

The words are mine, and I have the right to turn plagiarist into pancakes and eat them for breakfast. Also, there may be grammatical/ Spelling errors as most of this was written without a handy-dandy Parental Unit Spell Checker, Dictionary and Thesaurus.

And font tags are evil. Blogger keeps inserting them. Gah! Ban the Font tags!!!

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Colors and toodles with poodles on top!

If anyone does read this blog, I am starting an unofficial forum in the thing formerly known as comments for this post. What is your favorite color, why, and don't you think raining toodles has a ring to it? I do. :) And what is <3, <333, <3!, etc?

Update on the hearts: I figured them out. They are sort of obvious. In hindsight :).

Does Anyone Know....

Does anyone know how to put on your template that when you style text (bold, italics, underlined, etc.) that it automatically puts it in a specific color? I know Angelique from It's Raining Noodles! made it do that but I don't know whether that was part of her template or if she did it manually like I am doing it. Virtual toodles and poodles to anyone who can comment with how you do it. :)

Update: Gymnastics Routine

The dresses for the Gymnastics thing are so short, I thought they were shirts. UMGs! (Um, My Gods!) They're shorter than the shirt I sleep in (which is as long as the shirt and shorts that I was wearing the other day). They're so short, they might as well not have a skirt, although, I admit, if it was slightly above the knee and had shorts in it or shorts you could wear under it I might actually put one on. I don't know why they put it for a gymnastics routine *rolls eyes at sexisim and what is considered attractive on girls* Mexican flag colors though. Hmmmph.

The Relative Monkey-ness of Humans

Me: Humans are a type of monkey.

Mom: Depends on who you ask.

Me: No, it depends on how pompous the person you ask is.

Me: Humans are a type of monkey.

Mom: ...and some are more closely related than others.

Me: Yeah.

Me: ...No, less. Monkeys are smarter.

Mom: *makes noncommittal noise*

Me: *pounding on the roof of our 28-year-old VW camper bus* I am a monkey, and I'm proud of it!

Where are YOU coming from?

The meek are too meek to inherit

It's Raining Cats and Frogs
And the geek shall inherit the earth.
The GEEK, I said!
Are you hard of hearing or something? The GEEK!

I am a geek.