Monday, March 28, 2011

Change

I have a word written across my forearm right now, the navy blue Sharpie faded and disappearing.  It’s even and straight, inking my skin purposefully, where I can see it.
A few days ago, my five-year-old cousin stopped me.  “What’s that on your arm?” she asked me.
“Just something I wrote.”
“What does it say?”
“Change.”
“Why does it say that?”
I just shrugged and smiled, and she prattled on about something else.  It was easier to let her move on than try to explain.  I wasn’t even sure if I knew what I was trying to say by tattooing myself with that little word.
I picked up my marker and put it there the other day, after reading a blog post written by my friend Jodi.  Her words really made me stop and think.  “I don’t want to.  I. Have. To. Change.”
I’m a very passive person.  I, by nature, just let things happen.   I don’t really fight for my freedoms or make efforts to participate in certain activities.  Thinking about it, I realize the only reason I don’t participate in a lot of the things my friends do is that it’s simply not convenient for me. 
I don’t watch TV because no one in my family does.  I don’t have a Facebook because my parents aren’t keen on it.  I don’t listen to the music my friends do because I have the bands I listen to, and looking for or screening other bands is not the way I chose to spend my free time, when I have it.
Could I do these things?  Yes.  Could I talk my parents into letting me do some stuff I typically don’t?  Maybe.
It’s not like I don’t care… it’s more that I just let things go.  I’m passive.  It’s fine as long as I’m content and everyone around me is happy.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

OHS NOES

It's Tuesday and I haven't moved from this spot on my colorful bed surrounded by stuffed animals in several minutes.  My bed is unmade, my homework undone, my hair unbrushed and my face un-made-up.  I'm under strict rules not to leave this spot unless I have to go to the bathroom... or it's time for my doctor's appointment.
Yep, you got that right.  I'm sick.  And it STINKS.

I don't even know what I have.  I just feel awful and weak.  My mom, who's in the midst of recovering from this weird thing herself, commanded me not to do anything.  ANYTHING.  That means no homework until I get better, you guys.  This sickness only lasts four or five days, but I need to do homework because otherwise I'll get behind, and I have too many classes to get behind.
That thought really stresses me out, and I only do marginally well with stress.  Marginally well meaning worrying non-stop and crying and cursing my workload and circumstances.

In the midst of this, I'm blessed, though.  Next week I'm going to be in a play (April 1st and 2nd) , and we have rehearsals every morning, every day.  We've only practiced two times before this, so I'm just glad I'll be better before then.  It wouldn't do to have Rosa Luna, la cocinera mexicana especial, ill during play week.  I'd have no clue what I was doing.
And it's spring break next week, so I'll be able to catch up on homework.  Yay timing.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Rebellion: Conversations

Most of the time when I get inspiration for Rebellion, it's not like I get another piece of the storyline.  I get a tidbit, a snippet of conversation.  Like this one, that's been stuck in my computer for almost two years now:

Farrington chuckled from his seat beside the tent flap, his splayed posture telling Kaori he didn’t much care about anything she could say.  “So, what is it then, this rebellion?” he asked as she passed, raising an eyebrow languidly.  “Patricide?”
Kaori paused in the exit.  “No,” she replied, not bothering to turn and look at him before leaving the tent.  “It’s suicide.”

Monday, March 14, 2011

Inkheart: An Interview

So I was bored and inspired last night and wrote some instead of sleeping.  In fact, I interviewed myself again!  And I know you all think very little is more scintillating than listening to me talk to myself, so here I am posting it for your enjoyment.  Yay and stuff.


Me: So you just watched Inkheart last night, right?
I: Yep!  I love that movie.  Farhid is the best ever.  He makes me grin.

Me: Have you read the book?
I: Sadly, no.  I got it from the library one summer a few years ago, but I was younger and busy reading other books and I didn’t ever get around to reading it because it looked so long, so it just went back without being opened.  I ought to read it, when I have time.  It looks really good.

Me: What do you think about the idea that characters come to life if someone reads their story out loud?
I: Scary scary scary scary scary.  That’s all I can say.  Zeesh, that would be terrifying.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Update #13: Soul-Sick Medisin & Sky Prince

 Byahaha I learned how to make these posts smaller~  So if you want to read an older post, just click on the 'Read More' link to see the whole article.  Then you can COMMENT and tell me if you think it's easier to navigate this way.  I do, but maybe that's just me. ^_^

Monday I was listening to Gravedigging and Medisin by The Classic Crime (both of which are slightly darker songs) and Blaine/Caley was feeling tristifical.  Don't look at me like that, it is a word.  Means to make sorrowful, no joke.
So his being sad consequently made me a little sad, and I wrote him a drabble.  When he gets sad, though, his usually logical mind gets a little scrambled and impressionist, so we ended up with a weird mix of present, past, and future tenses and repetition.  I was going to fix it, but I think it works better this way.  It is a pain to read, sorry.

Sunday, March 6, 2011

Concerning Favorite Songs

I've always dreaded that moment when one of my friends turns to me, eyes sparkling and inquisitive, and they take a breath to ask me the question I always cringe to hear: "What's your favorite song, Christina?"  I usually mamby-pamby around the question and say something incredibly intelligent like, "I don't know" or "I don't have one", biting my lip and hoping that they don't pursue it.
I don't have favorite songs.  There's a really simple reason for this:  I love all of the music I listen to.  I don't think it's fair to say "This is my favorite song" or  "This song is THE BEST" because quite frankly, I remain in awe of the people who create the music I listen to no matter what what they're playing.  I respect them too much to put them over each other.  They work so hard and create such beauty that saying "That is the best song in the world" is unfair and slightly immature of me.  I understand it's opinion, but still.  I don't like sticking labels on them.
Besides, I'm wishy-washy-- and I mean, really wishy-washy.  I'd say a song is great and the next day I'd say that this other song was better.  People would ask me and the answer would change from day to day.  It's just the way I am:  I have consistence issues with my opinions.
Not saying that there aren't songs that I'll listen to over and over.  But favorites?  I find it hard to pinpoint a favorite song in good conscious.
So here's a list of Christina's Top Ten Twenty Bunch Of Songs That She'll Listen To Over And Over (Not Favorites). Sorry, I got a little carried away.

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Somewhere On The Battlefield: Update #12

Yep, another one.
Hey, what can I say?  It's Thursday.  I should be doing homework.  Instead I'm blogging.  Yes, I do stink.

Anyway.  I had to write this for school, so that counts for something. (No it doesn't.)  We're getting ready to study poetry and fiction after doing a 10-page research paper (Read: the writing assignment of your nightmares), so that means more writing for me and more reading for you!  Who's excited?  I AM!
This is supposed to be free verse. Yep.

This is from the viewpoint of Scott, a secondary character from a story that none of you have read because I haven't written it.  He's the assistant to the commander (Kaori Tsutsuba, who I've mentioned before) of a rebel army.  Their story is one of destruction and impossible odds, the struggle of trying to create the most morally upright country they can from the rubble of a motherland that was once great but has fallen to brutal depravity.

Their story is my driving one, I think.  If I only ever get one thing published, only one book to be tragically and achingly beautiful, I want it to be this one.  I haven't started writing it yet because I want to get better, good enough to feel comfortable starting it.  I need to do a lot more research before I can even think about beginning, most of which has to do with the Civil War and the Founding Fathers.  Which, quite frankly, is good for me, because I love history.  *coughcoughtlrcoughcough*

This was going to be just another update, but I guess you got a little blurb about Rebellion at the same time.  Oopsies. ^///^