startredder@hotmail.com (MSN)

Fanlistings, Cliques, and Other Stuff

Reading Lirael, As You Like It, The English Patient, Heart of Darkness, Suikoden III, Candidate for Goddess

Watching House, Rick Mercer's Monday Report, Gilmore Girls, Scrubs, Corner Gas, Aishiteruze Baby, Prince of Tennis, Hikaru no Go

Playing The Bard's Tale, Katamari Damacy, Curse of Monkey Island, Final Fantasy VI, Disgaea: Hour of Darkness, Pretty Barbie Dressup Party Final Fantasy X-2(group gaming)

Back-burner Star Ocean: Till the End of Time, Star Ocean: The Second Story, Final Fantasy Tactics: Advance, Baldur's Gate: Tales of the Sword Coast, Planescape: Torment, Final Fantasy VII

Obsessing Firefly, Erik and Ray, Impulse/Bart Allen, Ford Prefect, Monkey Island, Nostalgia.

Upcoming Things of Importance
January 5 First day of classes
January 14 Birthday party
January 16 Jaryn and Matt Are Old Day

Ninja and Roommate
Crack for Crack
Story and Art Journal
Mythical Detective Loki Screencap Recaps
Prince of Tennis Screencap Recaps

Previous Games

American Gods
Carnival of Bargain Madness
Grumpy Gamer
The International House of Mojo
Logic and Chaos
Worm Blog

scented // midnight rain

Is by Meimi, that wonderful Goddess who brings joy and happiness to the hearts of Ingrids.
This time, Meimi brought joy by doing a layout of Isumi Shinichirou and Waya Yoshitaka, of Hikaru no Go. It is full of wub.


6/28/2002 07:15:45 PM
Segawa Keiichi. In colour. By yours truly. Am proud. And hypocritical. :) Behold as I experiment with pastels, pencil crayons, and ink.

And if it doesn't work, jus tkill anzwers for me. And contact me about it if you're that keen on seeing Keiichi's greatness.

6/28/2002 08:52:44 AM
I made Jinxer cry. :)

6/28/2002 08:17:36 AM
Meril: My sincerest apologies. I'll try not to scare fanartists away from now on. It's certainly not that I don't -like- fanart. Quite the contrary. Some fanart is downright awe-inspiring. In fact, that may be part of it. Fanartists going around and making things I dislike actually appealing. "I hate him, I hate him, I hate him, but . . . My god, that's a great drawing. Maybe he's not so bad, if he can inspire that kind of artwork." And I suppose it's a good way to practise and get comments, since fanart gets more attention than original artwork.

I still stand with Thea on this one, though. We were looking through Fish Garden one day, and were both struck dumb by how bloody beautiful the artwork there was. And we both agreed that the sheer talent there was being wasted on Harry Potter. But that's just personal opinion. I certainly don't mean to discourage fanartists. Please, continue, draw, draw! I just don't understand your subject matter sometimes. ^^;

6/27/2002 11:25:59 PM
Hm. I am officially part of the Odd Job Squad. Which is, basically "Will do anything for money." At least, until I do multiple things to piss the people at the centre off. But I've already contacted a charming old lady about going and grubbing about in her garden when it cools down. I'll have to call in every morning, more or less, but dammit, it's better than working at Zellars or Rotten Ronnies.

And damn Ruri and Ko-sama and anyone else I can think of. I wanna do Keiichi-fanart. Good Keiichi-fanart. I actually got ideas for a pair of pictures a few months ago, but I've been waiting until, you know, they wouldn't suck total wang. I think I need a light box.

Thea bought me fun toy art supplies, I think. I may experiment and use them whenever I get them.

And yes, to bell and anyone else, plans are vaguely being formed for yours truly to dress up as Fuuma for Halloween. With a stuffed frog. 'cause dammit, you don't get much better than Fuuma with a stuffed frog. This all depends on whether or not Thea is Kamui or not, though. If Thea is not Kamui, I will not be Fuuma, because then I would have no one to molest. Other thoughts are dressing up at Cyanide and Skids from Boy Meets Boy. But since that would involve much work on Theas part, currently number one option is Kamui and Fuuma. Yay for inspiring cosplay pictures!

6/27/2002 10:32:22 AM
Scroll down a bit to where Neil's finished chapter four of Archer's Goon with his little girl, and there's talk of Diana's wistful sequel to said book. I would kill to read that book, to have some idea what she was planning, especially concerning the parents. That would be . . . marvelous. I always get the impression that Diana has countless ideas for sequels, but rarely, if never, writes them. She's not a series person. Which is why I love her, despite yearning for continuation.

And after reading half of the Sandman series, I am about ten times more in love with Mister Gaiman than I was before. Damn.

6/26/2002 11:19:42 PM
Oh yes - I've said this before and I'll say it again. You are an artist, you are talented, you can create things of utmost beauty with a simple pencil, so don't go wasting all your bloody awe-inspiring talent doing fanart!!!!!!!!!!!!! And if you must do fanart, do it for worthwhile fandoms. But most of them don't deserve you!!

6/26/2002 11:18:09 PM
I really hate this heat thing. It makes me intensely irritable. And maybe I have just cause to be, and maybe I don't. And no, I'm not going to say why I'm angry here, because that would be talking behind someone's back, and I've gone my entire life being opposed to that kind of shit, and now is not the time to blow my values, especially if it concerns someone who's incredibly dear to me.

So, yes, heat makes Ingrid pissy. Probably because she only has jeans and slacks to wear.

Onto cheerful, supposedly, news. Thea might dress up as Kamui for Halloween. If she does, I shall be Fuuma, wear a frog on my head, and molest her. But, of course, this means I won't be invited to the Halloween party or it'll be held in S'toon. But, it's fun to day dream about anyway, even if it won't happen.

Jinxer, evil wench, should have a link going to her incredibly cool wallpaper on her livejournal. So go there. And behold Subaru. Sort of.

6/26/2002 10:17:36 PM
I have got to know the name of the manga that you're reading, random as it may be. That description/summary made me laugh out loud. Sweet, sweet justice.

6/26/2002 08:40:43 PM
Which is worse, I wonder.

To be the sort of person who's constantly thrown into depressions and miseries, or to be someone who's normally happy, who adores life, and to be on brief, rare occaisions, thrown into a pit of black misery.

Is the former worse due to frequency, or is the constant occurance dulling to the senses?

Is the latter worse due to contrast with the typical mood, or does the nature of the personality and the fact that the depression shall soon be replaced by brilliant, bright-eyed optimism once again make it more bearable?

Obviously, the external reactions of people are fairly constant. Those who live in the stank of depression are constantly there, it is an accepted state of mind that provokes neither worry or concern from acquaintances. For the sudden crash of the bright one, the depression is such a constrast with the natural state of mind, that concern, even fear, result, and great attempts are made to put things back in their natural order.

Somedays, I hate my brain.

6/26/2002 01:57:17 PM
Jinxer made a very nice wallpaper the other day. Everyone should go pester her for it now.

No, really, I'm serious, it's really good and very simple. And contains Subaru. Nice.

6/25/2002 06:46:30 PM
Feeling broody. Kind of lonely. I miss seeing Thea today. I'm mad at myself for that.

Job hunting was a bust.

6/25/2002 11:57:52 AM
Jinxer is no longer broken. And today's Potter review lacks massive snark and speculation. Sorry, loyal fans. It had Neville in it. More than once. I'm weak.

6/25/2002 08:05:43 AM
Although I'm sure someone has answered this, I'll answer it anyway. There's colour pictures of Kamui, Fuuma, and Nataku. Still no Keiichi. I hate you CLAMP.

6/24/2002 10:52:56 PM
Meimi, I heart your m4d skillz. That's such a surreal layout. Not the SubaruxSeishirou bit, the other bit, with the funny . . . stuff. In purpley-grey-white. S'cool.

"I am the merry wanderer of the night"? I am the giggling-dangerous-totally-bloody-psychotic-meance-to-life-and-limb, more like it. - Sandman, Dream Country, A Midsummer Night's Dream. I have a thing for all forms of Puck.

Except for the hockey and the slut type.

6/24/2002 10:06:55 PM
I broke Jinxer.

6/24/2002 09:56:26 PM
Went to the student employment centre today. Blah. I am too socially inept for words.

On a brighter note - in a shocking fit on spontaneous generosity, my dad gave me a check to make the UPS go away and give me Sandman. I wub you, Cathy-chan. I've read the first two books already. ^^; Reviews may be forthcoming for Logic and Chaos, but not until I've read them more than twice. I'll see what I can do about X.

Gonna go and stop by Northern Reflections and maybe Venice House, see about jobs there. Please, I'm nice, you want to give me money.

6/23/2002 09:36:57 AM
It is now time for all to behold, Ingrid's Adventures in Graduation Ceremonies.

Thursday afternoon, the school secretary calls me to tell me my cap and gown are available to be picked up. I smile politely to the phone and say that's quite nice, but I have no intentions of attending the ceremony, so the cap and gown are not needed. Secretary tries to coax me into attending, with suggestions that my parents would really enjoy it, and I'll regret it in ten years, if I don't attend. I smile, and refuse. I say I've given away all my tickets for the ceremony. I'm offered more tickets. I refuse and hang up.

The secretary calls my mum's office. This is a futile attempt, for the mother is in Blaine Lake until the evening.

The secretary calls my father's business phone. He, too, is absent, for he is Super Councillor, and is busy attending boring meetings and pretending to be Dennis pretending to be the mayor.

I tell of the great adventures on the phone to my mother. We both find it quite amusing, and wonder whether, if they send a limo, I should attend. I decide, no, if they send a limo, we can use it to go to Safeway and buy groceries.

Hours pass. Around 9:30 in the evening, Father returns from his municipal politics masquerade and checks his voice mail. There is discussion in the bedroom between himself and Mum.

At 9:45, the parents come into the Swamp, and say that they've decided they really would like Ingrid to attend the graduation ceremonies after all.

Ingrid smiles and refuses.

Parents twitch, squirm, and look uncomfortable.

"Ingrid, if you go to grad, it will be financially beneficial to you."

"All right."

"But it's supposed to be a secret."

"All right."

"You wouldn't have agreed to come if we hadn't told you there was money involved, right?"

"That's right."

"All right then."

Yes, Ingrid, Mistress of Snark, can be bought. And so it is decided that the graduation ceremonies will be attended. Ingrid dresses herself in the morning, in jeans and a white button-down t-shirt. The cap and gown are picked up, and tickets are not, for Ingrid still has seven tickets in her room, for she lied on the telephone to the secretary. Breakfast at Diggers follows, with water, pancakes, strawberries, and whipped cream. Very sinful.

Go to comuniplex and put on dorky gown. Leave dorky cap in car and head to the other herds of what are fondly called "Drunken, stupid monkeys." A few of the three-hundred some students who know of Ingrid's anti-grad feelings find her presence surprising, and point. A fist of righteous anger is shook.

Young man with inflated head seems to have been replaced by a pod person, for he says something surprisingly kind before we head in for hours and hours of boredom.

And I do mean hours and hours of boredom. I am there, waiting to be seated from 9:45 until 11:00. Apparently, alphabetical order is very hard for some people to grasp. Once things have commenced, we are not able to leave our chairs and piss until 2:00 or 2:30 in the afternoon.

The ceremony is long. The ceremony is boring. The decorations are hideously tacky (there were pink flamingoes). There is unentertaining entertainment from rich, white girls. There are boring, meaningless, hollow speeches, from the same rich, white girls. There is no speaking of the french language. The only students who have any information said about them, are the rich, white girls who are unentertaining and giving poor, unprepared speeches.

Carlton Comprehensive High School is the largest high school in the province. There were three-hundred and twenty graduates in total. Half of these are male, half of these are female. Thirty precent of these students are first nations people. Ten, fifteen percent, perhaps, come from high, dual income families. There is a French Immersion program. So, of course, the graduation exercises are thoroughly representative of the whole when there are no male speakers, no first nations speakers, no speakers who came from lower income families who had to struggle for their marks, and no speaking of Canada's other official language which twelve students are supposedly now fluid in.

There was a speech given about "In Carlton, you are not a number. Individuality and originality are important to us." When in a room with three-hundred and twenty people in identical dorky gowns, and three-hundred and eighteen heads with dorky caps upon. I did not wear the dorky cap, for it was dorky, and neither did an incredibly tall young man, who probably couldn't get it to fit. I am sorely disappointed that I did not schuck the gown as well, and go up to accept my diploma in jeans and shirt.

I get 400$ for having the tenth highest average in the graduating class. This 400$ comes from Lifetouch, a talentless photography company that sucks the schools dry at every possible incident like some kind of vampire, and puts small, privately owned businesses out of work. Ironically, my father is a freelance photographer, or he was, until Lifetouch started getting in every possibly crevice, and he had to resort to municipal politics for his paltry wages. I am tempted to write a letter to Lifetouch, thanking them for the money, and thanking them for offering the lazy, ignorant, visionless fools of the world the opportunity to have their photos taken countless times in a heartless, meaningless manner, and saving my father much in the way of annoying phone calls and shoots with idiots.

When the ceremonies finally conclude, the crush of bodies is terrifying and painful. I run to the washroom, wait in line, and eventually return, to find the comuniplex still full of an unsettling huge amount of people all far too close together. My parents leave, for my father has to prepare for his single grad shoot, and my mum needs to drive him home. I lurk on the edges, until I spot Fro, and pounce on him in relief, using him as a human shield so I can get the tea I came for. There is much rejoicing.

I wander from table to table, refilling my cup with tea as I need it, and occaisionally being hugged or wished well by people I do not know. I eat an apple and talk to Monsieurs Bowden and Lachapelle, because they're nice. I have my photo taken with Samantha and her sadly dorky hat, and with Hazel. I take my hair out it's traditional braid for Hazel, because Hazel's always nice and very pretty. Hazel is also the only French Immersion student to have spoken to me after the fact.

My mum returns and I am sad, for it is time to leave, and I have seen neither Mister Suek nor Madame Donahue, but the room is mostly empty. We start to leave, only to see one of my mum's coworkers and his family. His son, Aaron, is the only male to have appeared on stage more than once (for he has the third highest average in the school). We stop to talk. I do not do very much talking, for I am terminally shy. Aaron is incredibly cute in his tux. Aaron's little brother, who is in grade three, looks sinfully adorable in his older brother's cap and gown. With great reluctance, I return home, to play Majora's Mask.

As for loot? I got a beautiful little braclet from my other mother Michelle, and my mother bought me a pineapple and a blizzard from Dairy Queen.

6/23/2002 06:35:23 AM
Damn damn damn. Just saw a scan from the latest ASUKA of Subaru. I'm not sure whether to kiss CLAMP, for bringing back Subaru and show him looking so incredibly tragic and beautiful (and begloved with long hair), to kill them for not killing him (yeah, I knew it wouldn't happen right now, but still . . .), to kill them for slightly tarnishing my blissful memories of Tokyo Babylon Subaru, or to kill them for still not giving me a coloured Keiichi picture.

I'm not sure which way to go.

When's X eighteen come out? ~whines fussily~


Horribly hot yesterday. Wapi and I went for a walk down on the river bank. Wapi jumped in, off the dock, without warning.

Have I mentioned my dog's crazy?