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Ingrid

ingridblythe
@
shaw.ca

Startredder(AIM)

startredder@hotmail.com (MSN)

Fanlistings, Cliques, and Other Stuff

Reading Fool Moon, MacBeth, 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 Shin Megami Tensei: Nocturne, 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
March 2 Political studies midterm
March 3 Chinese folk religion midterm
March 14 Business ethics paper

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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BUM ON FIRE!
3/2/2005 11:13:00 PM
"Nietzsche said it best, friend. 'That which does not kill you proves to me you'll be useful to me at a later date'." - Jason Pratchett, Something Positive.

So, finally managed to feed the inexplicable craving to read Ultimate Fantastic Four. And . . . I don't like it as much as Impulse. I suspect that's something I'm going to be saying a lot, every time I tentatively give a new comic a try. "It's okay, but I liked Impulse better."

Maybe it's because so far the comic's mainly focussed on Reed Richards and Sue Storm. Which makes sense because they're the serious, central sort of characters, the brilliant scientist types. And, I mean, I like them. Sue's surprisingly kickass - Invisible Ninja-Girl and all - and I like her. I like Reed, too, and his endearing, geeky insecurities and issues and the way geeky things just make him so -happy- and bright-eyed. But . . . they're also smart and serious and in love and, y'know, all that crap.

Ben Grimm and Johnny Storm have the potential to generate more love - they're funnier, not super-smart-scientist types, they've had their endearing moments (Ben playing around in space, Johnny naming their spaceship THE AWESOME). . . but mostly they sort of take a backseat to Reed and Sue. Which is fine, it's an ensemble type comic, that's what you get, I'm okay with that. It just means it won't generate the love as much.

I think the fact that all the storyarcs so far have spanned six issues, exactly, doesn't help either. There's a sort of slowness to everything that happens, which, after Impulse, is . . . uh, difficult to accustome oneself to.

Still, I like it.

I like this too. God, scans_daily produces some of the weirdest shit.

. . . And the repeat episode of Gilmore Girls tonight had Lorelai and Luke watching Casablanca, and the new episode ended on a -very- nice point with Judy Garland's A Star is Born playing in the background. So, even though I wrote an exam, write another in the morning, and fell asleep in Shakespeare, today was a not crappy day.

Hoping tonight will actually end in sleep,
Almighty Ingrid, Signing Off

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. . . Eep
2/28/2005 08:42:00 PM
"Now, for most of us The Economist is something we might accidentally see on a newstand, but for Martin, this is real. He looks at The Economist in the same way teenagers look at Maxim." - Rick Mercer.

Well.

I went to the office of the college of law today, and picked up an application booklet for the LSAT. It's surprisingly big and scary and I have to mail it to somewhere in Philadelphia. So that I can -maybe- get a seat in the writing of an exam in SASKATOON.

It just strikes me as all kinds of messed up. And rather intimidating. Not just the size of the booklet, but just . . . the knowledge that this thing is now in my apartment, and sooner or later I'm going to have to open it up, and fill it out, and mail it off . . . And then I'll get some kind of confirmation, and I'll be writing a huge standardized test, something I've never done before, and then, maybe . . . I'll be applying to law school.

It's just all really, really scary, and makes me feel a bit sick to my stomach.

Sometimes, working a dead-end zombie job doesn't look so bad,
Almighty Ingrid, Signing Off

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The power of Christ compels you . . . out of my damn PS2
2/27/2005 11:20:00 PM
"I always thought the Care Bears should find out what others care about so they can destroy it." - Mike, Shortpacked!

So, there was this . . . incident with me and Star Ocean: Till My Brain Explodes from Stupid. I'm close enough to finishing the game that I will be finishing it. I'm just . . . not on speaking terms with it right now. Essentially, I have grounded it from entering my PS2 for at least a week. Both Hugo and I deserve better.

So, in between me wanting to shake The English Patient until it falls apart in my hands and possibly implodes from its inherent . . . stupid post-modern annoying vagueness and writing a paper on the subject (and trying so very, very hard not to think about anything stressful like exams this week, or registering for the LSAT, or finding a summer job, or . . . crap), I've been playing Shin Megami Tensei: Nocturne. Which is good. Oldskool good with new graphics, no voice acting, and just . . . goodness.

I mean, the world has ended, and I'm a teenage boy who's been saved from Apocalypse death because some random creepy little demon kidlord decided to turn me into a demon. That's just every kind of awesome you can imagine.

Tomorrow, I'm going to try and suck it up and go to the college of law after Shakespeare. And pray to everything that I don't keel over from some kind of anxiety thing. Fucking nerves . . .

Disjointed like a contortionist,
Almighty Ingrid, Signing Off

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