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Ingrid

ingridblythe
@
shaw.ca

Startredder(AIM)

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
Pensieve
Websnark
Worm Blog

scented // midnight rain

layout
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.


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Could someone get me a handbook?
8/25/2004 01:52:50 AM
"Check out the brain on RM. It's not nearly as damaged as all his previous behavior has led us to believe." - Black Mage, 8-bit Theater.

Speaking of which, I want this shirt so bad.

I'll probably have to settle for doodling Ash in one though. It's so his kind of shirt.

This time next week, I'll be officially done my summer job at Evil Incarnate (oddly enough, my mother sent me her first e-mail in weeks today to tell me my brother just got a job in the produce section - Evil Incarnate is very likely the only place in the province that will hire the spawn of evil government employees and pseudo-pornographers). I'm glad. Despite the fact that it's a job with a very low ability threshold, I find it very stressful. It makes me have to bottle up and repress a lot of things - like violently swearing and crying when I drop a large case of creamed corn on my toe - and that can't be good. I've been having a lot of weird stomach trouble lately, a lot of pain down thereabouts and the weird feelings that stuff's sort of pushing it's way back up. Not bile. It's sort of painful, and almost like a contraction . . . Difficult to describe. And I've been eating regular meals and everything like people nag me too, so it should be behaving -better- than usual, not worse. I'm really, really hoping that the ulcer isn't back, because I don't know where I can find a doctor here, or if I did, how I'd get a hold of the meds I might end up needing.

I wonder if quitting's going to help the stress and general unhappiness? I'm supposed to try and find another job to help pay for groceries and things since I earned shit-all this summer and my parents are going to be taking most of the burden of my rent and tuition and books. They need a dishwasher at the restaurant across the street, and I suppose I'm perfectly capable of doing that (as long as it doesn't involve operating an actual dishwasher, which is as foreign to me as a spaceship), but . . . I was kind of hoping I'd be able to get my marks up high enough to score one of those Honours scholarships for fourth year, which would easily cover my tuition and make that less stressful so I wouldn't have to worry quite so much about a summer job (also good, since I'll have to be taking summer classes if I want to graduate in time to go to law school in the fall after fourth year, assuming I get accepted after I take the LSAT and apply . . .). I dunno if I'll be able to do that if I'm working nights and weekends.

What am I saying? Like there's fuckall chance I'd ever get a scholarship that would even cover a month's rent. Jenn's so right. My good marks in English are flukes, and I'm not going to be able to keep it up now that I'm taking political studies and philosophy, let alone get enough high marks to cancel out things like my barely passing calculus in first year.

Suck it up, take it like a man, apply for the damn job, and just remember to not care.

Speaking of not caring, the things that have been bothering me of late . . . continue to bother me, and hey, I continue to be uncomfortable with vocalizing them. I know, it's health to vocalize, and you feel better . . . But when I start thinking too hard about them, and put them in writing, or, God forbid, say them outloud (not that that would ever happen, because that would involve having a serious conversation with someone, and that never happens - I'm the quiet, violent, sarcastic one, after all, serious issues don't apply), I start crying and that's a world of bad. It makes breathing kind of difficult. Which is a very, very good reason not to vocalize them. Because the last thing I want to do is choke to death on my own mucus.

I mean, my corpse would get all rotting, and start to stink, and with that hole still in my bathroom ceiling, it would probably carry over to the neighbours, and they wouldn't been keen on that at all.

Still, people can surprise you, and be nice. I just wish I knew what to say when they were. People being spontaneously nice to me just . . . never really happened for such a long time that I kind of forget what I'm supposed to say and how I'm supposed to react. I'm not sure I was even that good at it when spontaneous niceness happened to me as a kid, back before I got all screwed up in the head.

Still, the umbrella's wicked cool, even if it doesn't extend to stab people.

Maybe Coles' notes would help?
Almighty Ingrid, Signing Off

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I'm gonna bite your frickin' ankle, man
8/22/2004 12:41:20 AM
"Bart . . . I dare you to be quiet for five minutes, starting riiiight . . . now."
"Five minutes in a row?" - Robin and Impulse, Young Justice.

I have a lot of things I'd like to grumble about, but looking at them in my head, I realize I don't even want to vocalize a lot of the more serious ones, and it's not even because people I know sometimes read this, but just because when you write something down or say it outloud, it becomes a lot more real than when it's just in your head.

So instead I'll say - I'm really getting fucking tired of being mistaken for a fourteen-year-old. When I'm on the street, I get it, I'm wearing a baseball cap, I'm sort of scruffily dressed in too-big clothing, then, even if I'm not happy about it, I can excuse it. But when I'm at work? Being told you look too young to work at a place that hires sixteen-year-olds? That -burns-, man.

I asked Jenn, and she said it's because of my hair.

For a brief, tired instant was -this- close to hacking it all off as close to the scalp as humanly possible.

Just . . . dammit! So not fair! Guys who look younger can grow beards and shit to make themselves look older, but Jenn told me the only way I could get people to think I'm twenty would be if I got a sensible, short haircut.

Duuuuuuuuuuude. That bites. I'm going to look like a frickin' teenager until I go grey.

So very, very bitter,
Almighty Ingrid, Signing Off

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