Return of the Homework

I don't know if you find me posting my homework annoying, but this was just so unberably cool I couldn't help it. Check it out.

Whoa!

A parade, carrying the Dia Del Ni~no Queen, Princess and Ladies In Waiting for my school, including our dear little midget queen (she's a first grader! Although... she could be a second grader for all I would know unless they announced it! They're all shorter than me! Therefore, they're all midgets to me!) on top of what looks like a limo.

Happy Dia del Ni~no to all the kids out there (be they 1 or 101)

I feel remarkably dead for someone alive

"No, just - stop laughing. That's better. Yeah. Okay, wave at Sanity... Can't you see her-? She's over there- yes, like that, wave byebye to Sanity. Good girl."

This is what comes of reading the Raining Noodles archives.
Actually, I think I was looking at the source code when I cracked up...
Weird. Source code makes me laugh.
Maybe it was the utter insanity of what I'm going to do on S.L.I..
Oh well. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to google HTML for the brainless, see what comes up.

baaaaack...?

No, I haven't disappeared. I half wish I had; I'd love to see the comments. But aside from that? I haven't been posting because I haven't been doing much worth posting about. Let me think.
*sound of crickets chirping*
Uh...
Well, my class went to the Pescadero school yesterday along with 5C and I managed to get a mouthful of sand falling off monkey bars, fell off a wall, walked on a tree, and had to get out of another tree - that had I fallen off of I would've been covered with mud, so good thing that I wasn't, I would've been in major trouble - precariously because of my teacher ("Rose! GET OUT OF THEIR TREE!" O.o). And what can be learned from that? That now my right arm hurts because I hold on longer with it for some instinctual reason because I'm right-handed, that I climb a lot, that football is boring to watch, that the reason I never play sports voluntarilly is because everyone assumes that if it's not intellectual I'll be awful at it and why let the awful people practice? We don't want equality and opportunity, we want to win so I don't get any practice, no one wants me on their team (however, I have never had "I'll take ___" "I'll take... Uh, professor, can I pick the rock?") and I feel bad about even playing because again, we're loosing, why should I play? I'll just make us loose worse...
Gods damn the star system at play in most schools. Or all. It seems to be basic human nature - and spiteful, ugly, and underhanded it is, it must be human nature.
People wonder why I call myself Cat. It's because, according to my observations, the human species is not one you would want to be anything more than a long-distance phone call away from sometimes. It is not something you want to be affilated with. It is something you can despise, regard with sympathy or fondness, or find funny, depending on your disposition and the time of day.
But it is not a species I want to be.
Tough luck.

On Pronunciation of word that end in A

"You listen, you'll hear her saying R's [for words that end in A]-"
" 'Arse' is a completely different word."
*sound of laughter coming from behind a weighty book*

Exam results

Do you remember those panic-filled Mexico-wide sixth-grade exams I would rant about? If you don't, no matter; suffice to say that the prelims were eighty questions, all subjects, mystifying and A-D. Four of eighty I had to guess.
Out of something like 10,316 people, I learned Thursday morning, I got second place.
You probably think I was elated. And I was. But there was one thing that filled me with simmering resentment- if the exams had been a week later I wouldn't've had to guess those four! - and another that left me ruefully panicked, though that paled in comparison to the INCOMING! exams in LP where we would, of course, get to meet the mayor...
The teasing if the first place person was a boy, who out-exammed me, considered smart and a bit of a pain-in-the-butt feminist by the boys-
The teasing would positively kill me.

The title of this post was bland because otherwise, if it was to apropriately express my mood, it would be Ohmygodsohmygodsohmygods... and I think I did that with Michael already. But, for the sake of mystifying you until I explain it on Evolution of a Writer*, and possibly and then some-
Seradoc somemighty on a stick...
This is really happening.
I'm scared.
*It (the thing in italics) is a reference to some of my favorites out of the gods and cavalcade of demigods I invented for the book that the surface area of dragons: The Evolution of a Writer chronicles the most.

New drawings

I've been wanting to scan some of my drawings in particular for a long time, and thought you might like to see...
Also, I started a blog (another! Ye go- whoops, don't want to summon them again by accident - ) that chronicles my writing. Check it out if you like.

Yet Another Attempt- I must be crazy

I once *again* tried to rewrite the CSS on SLI. Still no sucessfullness: my code ruined the page, and I ended up having to reload the current hole-full, awful template from disk. I am coming to hate that blog.

I think I shall finally dream something to blog about!

Had a strange dream last night. Lesse. There was this thing on this beach, a privately owned beach - how weird is that - , and a bunch of people were invited - and did I mention my parents were still together? Weeeeeeirrrrdddd, I say - and so they were down at the end of this steeply slanted beach, but my best friend in the dream and her little brother got bored so we started walking up but around halfway up we stopped to rest in these enormous plastic beach chairs with red upholstery, honestly they were as big as cars, but then this huge! tidal wave came and smashed the chairs, and she was pulling him out and his foot was still in the chair when kablooey! and I was still sitting there but I had grabbed my stick because when I go to the beach, I always grab driftwood for witches' wands and staffs, and this one was a lovely six foot one and I got blasted straight out of the back of the for some reason slightly smoking chair and the stick stuck in the dune wall at the top of the beach, so I just held on since pretty much the wave just blew us to safety and as we screamed and screamed the alarm for the grownups, but then there was this huge wave going down the middle and most of the grownups were gone but my mom was running in front with her wrists drawn up to her shoulders, flapping her hands, kind of shriek-squawking and jumping with both feet together just ahead of the ravenous wave, which for some reason resembled a leopard seal, which prey on penguins, and my dad seemed to think she had gone nuts-
And then we were there, and the grownups were safe and pulling out their cell phones to chatter loudly about how "I was, like, so scared and there was like this huge wave, it was like huge," so we slipped quietly away to somewhere more interesting, to find someone who would care that the rapidly spreading wave had adverse effects on adults' sanity, already tenuous as it is.

This was a highly remarkable occurrence as I don't dream much. Maybe I'll make a habit out of it. It would be interesting to look like a dreaming nun.

How Blog Entries are Made

*looks askance at username and polishes nonexistent glasses, stroking beard* *remembers she doesn't have a beard* *her brain wanders off in search of cheese leaving her in front of a computer; ("Ah well," she shrugs, "might as well type, then")*
And that is how blog entries are made.
From a recent (ie happening right now) chat.

In other news, I am recovering from a very nasty flu going around. Of course it is nasty. Things that go around have a tendency to be nasty, otherwise they'd loose momentum and fizzle out.

I'm baaaaaaaaaack!!

From camping and I'd just love to give you a full report only I'd like to comment on Z, who hated me before I left for winning a game of chess. So this is our IM conversation to date, spanish and ingish (spanglish for english or ingles)
"Hola fool"
"Todavia me odias?"
"Si."
"Y entonces me estas platicando porque...?"
"nadamas y si quieres callate"
"o_O"
"o_O eso que?"
"*rolleyes* humanos..."
"eres un humano rose o no eres un microbio?"
"gato"

"Hello fool"
"You still hate me?"
"Yes."
"And so you are talking to me because...?"
"Just because and shut up if you want to"
"o_O"
"o_O what's that?"
"*rollseyes* humans..."
"You are a human rose or are you a microbe?"
"cat"

Thought you ought to know...

...that I'll be gone for a week or so, camping east of here. I'll take photos and see you on sunday or so!

Do not disturb: am making stickers to promote the blog where I report whatever you say

"I'm making stickers, you see."

"Stickers"

"You see in the thing I was reading, he said that he wouldn't be surprised if blog urls started showing up on bumper stickers... So I'm not going to surprise him."

Wordplay *is* a Girl's Best Friend.

Today I didn't really have a good day. I went to the plaza after honores for Juarez and spring and a bit about the petroleo which is actually a kind of ridiculous thing to celebrate. The Escolta, being bored, made some prank calls on operators, then when it was all over I called and said I was really sorry for the inconvenience and the time we had probably wasted and hung up before the someone on the other end could respond in order to save more of it. A piece of set (canvas and thick wooden planks rolled up) fell on me.
During recess I was called a crybaby (I am not) and told my feet resemble or are turtle flippers (they aren't). Though I sometimes express an opinion similar to that last sentiment hearing it from someone I really don't like was a different matter, and anyway I still have a couple grudges against Nitwit to harp on, so I let that pass (relatively; I called him what he is, if I remember correctly, his reaction "What did I ever do to you?") and fell silent plotting a dastardly revenge or failing that poking him insane. A minute or so later, he asked if he could borrow two pesos. "No," I said starting out quite calmly. "You jerk why not!" "Well, I don't have any money and I HATE YOU AND WOULDN'T GIVE YOU MONEY IF MY LIFE DEPENDED ON IT!" "You don't have to scream" "Oh but I like to" "I'm not deaf-" (around here we both were yelling at once and Z was whispering something that will be revealed soon) "Oh really I could argue to the contrary-" "I'm not stupid-" "Evidence to the contrary right there!-" "What did I ever do to you?"
Now, let's think about that. You (Nitwit) were the first person ever to call me a bitch, but that I'll give you credit that you might have forgotten it. It was a couple months ago, and it was in a "friendly" context, or so someone who can strangely stand you told me. But you just insulted my feet, and I kind of like my feet. (You know, big feet makes falling over *much* harder, even if you run like a crazed - and animate, and constantly twitching (ooh, twitching windmills) - windmill.)
Anyway, back to the future. He says:
"I'm not you," "And that's how I know you are deaf!" (He talks over people horribly. Thinks he's always more important. Remind you of anyone? Say, Mrs. K?) "Oh no I'm not that's why-" (Z bends over, whispers something to me. I grin.) "Stop whispering to her Z!" "Oh I know you're not me that's how I know you're deaf-" - Z tries to say what she had told me as she thinks I'm not going to say it - "unlike me you have no ears. Also, you're stupid. Unlike me, you have NO BRAIN!!"
However afterwards someone said "rose que tienes?" (Literally "what do you have?" but meaning "what's wrong?")
"Feet like turtle flippers," I said.
Wordplay is a girl's best friend.

Flag Carrying Monkey passed me this

Aaaaawwwwwwwwwwwwwwww... But by the Tórok, how the heck did they manage that?

Documentary

As you might've noticed by watching my Twitter updates I was just interviewed by a nice lady with a camera doing a video documentary on americans living in foreign countries. She was very nice, and says daddy (he was interviewed yestarday) and I will get copies of it when it's done.
I like being interviewed. It's almost like blogging. I have the freedom to say whatever I want and say it, and talk and talk and talk and talk and talk. What fun!

Eep...

The Big Exams are tuesday. The Historia/Geografia little exam which is still nervous-making is monday.

I really don't feel like studying.

...&monkeys

Am busy falling asleep on mousepad so my fingers are writing this. Walked around for half an hour with two hundred or so other people representing all ages from fifth grade to CECYT, carrying signs. Went to secundaria, watched their sucky Escolta-to-be (they're really awful), shouted that they need practice and was told how can I know with a heavy implication that I was an ignorant girl so leave them alone. And this on International Women's Day!!!!! Talked to Z and Da Stick about how awful they were, after raging at Z that me? not know? hel-lo?! vanguardia de la izquierda in one escolta and abanderada in the other! me? not know? it's them that can't paso redoblado right the half of them! pfft!, sat on REALLY COLD concrete for an hour and a half waiting, waiting for their thing to be over. Returned to school. Went for asistencia, to check how many kids came in our assigned classes. Came back.
School let out.
Now I'm free, free falling (free, free falling)

SLI yet again - maybe I'm starting to understand CSS? Can I hope?!?

SLI looks pretty good now, and I'm working on refining it, and pinking it. Yes, pink. The Girl has Spoken, and Thus it Shall Be. For now, at least. Look at it now, I mean RIGHT RIGHT RIGHT!!!! now, to see something pretty funny - it's caught between two worlds, some parts are pink, some parts are purple. Haha.

Past life diagnosis. Sounds like I'm ill. Is a past life a disease?

Your past life diagnosis: I don't know how you feel about it, but you were female in your last earthly incarnation.You were born somewhere in the territory of modern Central England around the year 1150.
Your profession was that of a teacher, mathematician or geologist.
Your brief psychological profile in your past life: Such people are always involved with all new. You have always loved changes, especially in art, music, cooking.
The lesson that your last past life brought to your present incarnation: The world is full of ill and lonely people. You should help those, who are less fortunate than you are.
Do you remember now?

...Okay, so I haven't been around again for almost a thousand years.

http://www.thebigview.com/pastlife/

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