startredder@hotmail.com (MSN)

Fanlistings, Cliques, and Other Stuff

Reading Jeeves and the Tie that Binds, King Lear, 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 Star Ocean: Till the End of Time, 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: The Second Story, Final Fantasy Tactics: Advance, Baldur's Gate: Tales of the Sword Coast, Planescape: Torment, Final Fantasy VII

Obsessing Erik and Ray, Impulse/Bart Allen, Bruno and Boots, Gilmore Girls (Doyle and Paris and Logan).

Upcoming Things of Importance
February 3 Chinese folk religion term paper proposal
February 6 Paradise Lost reading
February 11 Shakespeare essay
February 12-20 Reading week
February 23 Polisci term paper
February 28 English Patient essay

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.


Detailing stupid things that were done on Friday
2/19/2005 11:39:00 AM
"We make all of our cords defective, and call it a value-add. We'll say it's a new game. 'Shock & Burnie.' It's like Jak & Daxter, only you might catch on fire and die." - Xbox Executive, Penny Arcade.

Yesterday I went to the bookstore with my family and there was an open offer of purchasing a book or two for me . . . and I couldn't find anything. Was it some kind of guilt over not being able to find a well-paying job last summer? General financial worries with my rent going up? Or was there really just nothing there that I -wanted-. Reading Lirael has taught me to be very, very wary of buying books that I haven't read unless I'm -positive- about the author. And none of my positive authors have new books out. Of course, there was a small selection of P. G. Wodehouse books. But one was just a collection of various snippets of stuff, the other was a collection of three books, but I already have a copy of Code of the Woosters which I'm very fond of (although the collection did have a Hugh Laurie introduction, which I skimmed in the store), some other books, which I already had, and a copy of Aunts Aren't Gentlemen (I read that over Christmas, under the American title of The Catnappers - the original title is -so- much better).

It had an ugly cover.

Still, I get a chance at actually buying stuff that -isn't- practical maybe two or three times a year. Why did I screw it up this time?

Obviously, since my parents were here, I was finally able to get the flour and sugar I've been lacking for over a month. I'm sure as hell glad I didn't try and carry a ten kilogram back of flour home on my BACK. Even though it doesn't stab and poke like the twenty-four soup cans I carried home one day, it's heavy as fuck.

So, newly supplied, I finally tried out my crazy experimental recipe.

Dumbest. Thing. Ever. Except possibly for the last really dumb thing I did.

I mean, they taste okay. The cookie-part is actually very brownie-like, very chewy and chocolaty and all things good. But no matter what I did, every batch I pulled out of the oven had more than a couple cherry cordials that popped in just the wrong way and got crystallized cordial all over my baking pan. And they're pretty much all ugly from melting and chocolate collapse and . . .


Experiment - Failure.

Considering the main point of baking cookies is to try and make me feel less horrible about what a crappy friend I am . . . maybe I shouldn't experiment and stick with the simple stuff I know I can make without screwing up. It just gets so boring doing the same kind of thing, I wanted to try something different and possibly cool . . .

Sigh damn bloody hell sigh,
Ingid, Signing Off

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In which things start off bad and get a lot worse
2/18/2005 09:52:00 AM
"My God! Can't you see it? He's . . . A GIANT CAT!" - Casino Employee, Kiaga Swordscat.

I feel like I'm in some strange, alternate universe. An alternate universe where Penny Arcade, my beloved, sweet, adored Penny Arcade, hasn't updated, and Megatokyo, the comic I keep meaning to break up with but haven't gotten around to the actual breaking up part, -has-.

What kind of bizarro world -is- this?

Maybe I can use this sudden entrance into an alternate universe to explain why I have the sudden, unexplicable desire to read Ultimate Fantastic Four.

Yeah, I haven't a bloody clue either.

And to make sure this entry continues it's downward spiral into confusion and chaos, Hugo the PS2 has been having . . . issues. I think he may be on his last legs. There's the weird noise he makes whenever inserting a disc, the sort of whk-whk-whistle noise he makes sometimes while loading stuff . . . and the fact that battle in Star Ocean: Till the End of Time seems to involve Fayt running a lot slower than he should.

I'm wondering how long before he actually gives up, chokes, splutters, and dies. Because I've grown to enjoy having the PS2 here for company, and playing it when I need a break from pouring over books and I'm almost -done- Star Ocean and when I'm done, I can finally move on to a game that wasn't specifically designed in almost every way to cause me pain. But if Hugo's going to die on me, there doesn't seem much point.

Poor little PS2. We hardly knew ye.

Wasn't -this- a peppy entry,
Almighty Ingrid, Signing Off

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Have you seen this girl?
2/16/2005 11:55:00 PM
"Truth is, you remind me of Lightning -- my horse. Lightning was a a stubborn girl -- skittish -- ran like a rabbit -- always where she wasn't supposed to be. We shot Lightning." - Max Mercury, "Impulse: Bart Saves the Universe".

When I was little, I wanted to be a director.

I always wanted to be a vetrinarian, from a very early age, but when I was in elementary school, I also wanted to direct. Plays. Movies. TV. I don't know what. I was eight, what did I know? But I was constantly writing scripts for plays, trying to adapt stories and books we read in class, trying to organize my classmates into taking part. Maybe it was the product of watching too many Mickey-and-Judy musicals in my formative years, but I wanted to do something that involved performing and creativity and telling people what to do all rolled into one.

I never got anything off the ground.

In grade three we were broken into groups to do our own things for an assembly. I was in a group, all girls, who wanted to do a little play. I was the main character, a boy who had the hiccups in the middle of class and was trying to find a way to cure them.

I was in a commercial when I was in grade four, maybe five. I never saw it myself, but my classmates did.

My elementary school only put on two musicals while I was there, but I was in the chorus both times.

I had a friend who wanted to do an adaptation of Romeo and Juliet one summer. I was going to play Romeo.

I never really did much. Never got any of my own things off the ground. I was in elementary school after all. But I had all these hopes and dreams and goals and desires as a kid. A real drive. I was constantly reeling other kids, mostly boys, a couple girls, into these ideas of mine.

When I read a passage from Paradise Lost in front of a small group of students and faculty the other Sunday, I felt like I was going to throw up. My left knee shook, violently, the entire time I was standing at the podium, reading a passage I had practised.

And I wonder what happened to the little girl who just wanted to put on plays.

Feeling strangely lost,
Almighty Ingrid, Signing Off

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