myOtaku.com: snake chimera
Hi people! I'm gonna say right now that I'm mostly a manga fan, and I'm totally obsessed with Fullmetal Alchemist. I like to pretend that I'm a good artist, but I'm really not. Not at all. I'm the reigning queen of smudged, illegible fanart at the top of the low-quality amateur scale. I REALLY TRY NOT TO SMUDGE THEM!
Let's see, stuff about me... I love sarcasm, I'm a complete geek, (zits and all)I like my music loud and I'm a pretty good singer...sort of... I'm a feminist, and I have "very strong opinions", my teachers tell me. I'm an atheist. Don't bug me about it, I have my reasons. Over- chibi-ing makes me want to puke, and I'm mostly a shonen fan. I hate most new music, and I love real genuine rock (Remember, "rap" is just one letter away from "crap"). I am a writer. I have an 84.8% grade average (It went up by 2.8% this term!). Go me.
Oh yeah... and I'm an Ed fangirl. (OH THE SHAME OF FANGIRLDOM!!!**is carted off to therapy**)But he's so AWESOME!!!
Current band obsessions: Queen, The Eagles, Black Sabbath, Trooper, The Wallflowers, Great Big Sea, Colin Linden, Billy Joel, Avril Lavigne (BEFORE she was a filthy sellout), Green Day, CCR, Other various things like that. Not very otaku-ish. Frankly J-pop bothers me.
My drawing style changes a lot, as do my favourite color, food preferences and general personality. One day I'll be a randomness-spewing fountain of joy, and the next I'll be a weeping ball of angst. Go figure. Comment if you have time, people!
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Something very strange happened to me today.
It was during gym class. Oh crap, now I have to explain about me and gym class. We don't mix. I really SUCK at sports, I just never really liked them. I was always perfectly happy to just sit still and shut up (okay, not shut up, but...) And now all the sudden everyone was better than me. I didn't know what happened. It wasn't fair. So I figured that I was too lazy and out of shape at this point to get much better, and even if I tried people would just laugh at me and tell me that I sucked, and then I would start crying, and then some idiot would say "Here comes the waterworks..." and I would get a reputation as a stupid wimpy crybaby. Plus in grade four I had a teacher who didn't really make us participate. So me, Chloe-who-moved-to-New-Brunswick-Last-Summer, Austin-from-grade-four-who-moved-to-a-different-school and Lee-who-used-to-be-hilarious-but-is-now-a-jerk, all used to explore the maze of storage rooms behind the stage.
Things went downhill from there. In grade five and six my rebellious nature got gradually stronger as my gym marks got gradually lower. If they told me to run, I would walk. If they told me to catch the ball, I would sidestep it and watch as it hit the wall behind me. If they told me that it was affecting my mark, I told them firmly and defiantly that I could still graduate even if I failed gym. I saw all this as being really brave and protesting and stuff. Naturally I wasn't very popular with my sports-obsessed classmates after all this. They yelled at me and begged me to participate. It probably would have been easier to listen to them. But when you really think about it, which is the path of least resistance here? I'm still not sure.
Anyway, now in 7th grade, my Phys. Ed mark has plunged to a 55%, my lowest mark in the history of EVER in ANYTHING. I participate sometimes. Oh, and now I have to tell you the soccer story too.
Every September, I get a strange urge to play soccer. Some stupid part of my mind gets the idea that if I work really hard, I can make the school soccer team and score and everyone will respect me at last (Jeez, Naruto the Hokage much?). Well, I tried out this September, and it was..._________ brutal. (Insert the profanity of your choice in the blank above) Only four other grade sevens tried out, and the rest of the girls were all very soccer-experienced, very tall grade eights. They were nice, and so was the coach, but I was so pathetic that I was fighting back tears every practice. I tried SO hard. I really did. And I have asthma. It's really tough for me to run around a lot. (WHY do I think I can play soccer?!?!) And then after all my effort and pain, you know what they did? They cut three people. Christa, Candice-my-best-friend, and me.
At that point I couldn't help it. I burst into tears and walked home by myself. (I usually walked with Candice during the practices)
And aside from that traumatic tale, I get hit with things a LOT. 90% of the time in the past, it's been soccer balls. Most people say, "Pssht, soccer balls don't hurt." But they fricking hurt ME! I'm not used to getting hurt. It's not supposed to be part of the curriculum. I don't like organized sports. It's not my FAULT! And so, that is my angst-ridden history of sports. And now for my whole point...
Today, during gym, to warm up we had to run back and forth from one gym wall to the other six times (one for each wall touch). I really felt like running. I wanted to show everyone that I could be fast too. So I ran! I showed everybody, and I even beat one or two people. Megan was proud of me. She's always nice. She was all like, Good job Elaine! And I was all like, thanks! Yay!
But I was really out of breath, and I was breathing really fast. (Asthma, remember?) I keep an inhaler in my backpack, but it was in the classroom. I don't have any special medication forms on file at the school so that I can have it, none of the teachers really know about it. I just have it. I thought it would look really stupid and geeky to say "Can I get my inhaler?" right after running for not even five minutes, plus my asthma isn't very bad, so I figured I would be fine if I just stood for a minute while the class decided what game we were going to play. We voted. The verdict?
Now, the practices for the soccer team were outdoors, in a big wide open field near the school. But it's winter. This is INDOOR soccer. This is my greatest fear. Everybody kicks really hard, and the ball bounces off everything. There's just not enough SPACE... It really scares me. I have a strong dislike for getting hit.
I announced to my team that I already ran today, which was a rare event in itself. That was all I could do for today, I'll run again tomorrow. They accepted this, since they were all really good and I wasn't much of a help anyway. I was still breathing pretty hard and fast.
So they started the game, and I took refuge in a corner near our team's net. I did everything I could to avoid the ball. Sometimes I just don't care about the games we play in gym. I'm totally removed from it, and I just ignore the whole thing. But today was different. I was terrified out of my wits. Not just that I would get hit. I'm getting more pain-resistant lately. Just the fact that a soccer game was going on, and I was stuck in it. I was almost crying in my little corner. I was blinking like crazy. Never taking my eyes off that stupid ball.
I know this guy with this disorder thing where he gets panic attacks sometimes. I've never seen one happen, but I'm guessing they're something like that. Fast breathing, almost crying, utter terror, trembling. I think those are all the symptoms. I'm not sure. But that's what I had.
Seriously, I was scared out of my wits, really, honestly terrified, doing everything I could just to keep that #%@$ ball away from myself and not start crying. My friends didn't understand when I talked to them, and neither did my mom. So I have turned to the internet instead. I ask you this: WHY did I get so freaked out, what's wrong with me, what am I supposed to do now? My class LOVES soccer. They'll want to play it all the time now that they're tired of basketball for the year. I NEED ADVICE!
Friday, February 22, 2008
I posted more pictures...and I had a major scanning fest last night. I'm probably going to post them tomorrow.
Aside from that... I had a very stressful day today. Everything was just really...out of control. So when I got home, I said hi to my dad and my brother, then went upstairs, shut myself in my room, and put on some loud music to disguise the sounds of myself crying. I cried for like an hour. But I feel better now.
I was remembering how last year, some people in my class were playing a game of MASH, and they always pick two really "good" girls, like Jessica Simpson and then the most popular girl. Then they pick two really "bad" girls. Guess who they picked, right off the bat, me and my best friend. Do you have any idea how it feels to be the official ICON for ugliness?! And one day on the bus, these two idiots were sitting behind me, and they kept jokingly saying, "Will you go out with me?" And every time I said No, they would laugh at each other and go, "You just got rejected by ELAINE." and laugh some more. Like it's a given that I'm horrible. I never did anything wrong...did I?
But like I said, I'm okay. Every now and then I just have to cry, or else I'd probably implode from stored self-pity. Nobody has commented in ages!!! WAAAH! TALK TO ME, PEOPLE!
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Art+ Music+ Stories+ Friends+ Earth+ Randomness = SOUL!
I'm pretty happy right now. I finished my Biography for French, I just submitted my artwork, my fanfic has reviews, (http://www.fanfiction.net/secure/live_preview.php?storyid=4069384&chapter=1)
I was just talking to my best friend, I got a level four on my French Reading test, I bought a briefcase for no apparent reason, I'm going to order some Copics really soon, I ate pocky, I slow-danced with A guy for the first time in my life (Didn't like it much, but still...) I have volumes 12-14 of FMA, I've read chapter 80, (www.onemanga.com is really up to date) I don't have any homework, I've been getting a lot better at drawing lately, And therefore I'M HAPPY!
And happy equals soul.