Yes, most of the content has disappeared from my website. The writings themselves will reappear, but I want to make them shinier. I’m going to make a few focus changes, too, which I’m not going to explain now, because, once the changes have been made, they’ll be obvious and I’ll wonder why I took time explaining them.


Summer session!

The spring semester ended two weeks ago and, even with Senior Week choir gigs, a trip out of state, and all those errands I should have done during finals, I think I’ve written more in those two weeks than I wrote all semester.

I hope this isn’t a trend, particularly because summer classes start tomorrow. Two are online, one is in an actual class.

Wish me some luck-type-thing!

A World of Warcraft Poem

As a Blood Elf, I am saddened that so few Azerothians seem to appreciate the stunning gaudiness of my people’s capital. So, I wrote a poem – a lament, if you will.

Nobody goes to Silvermoon
That place is such a mess!
The Scar with rubble remains bestrewn
Undead obstruct egress

Nobody goes to Silvermoon
The shops and inns are deserted
Save owners who mockingly laugh in tune
Eviction is somehow averted

Nobody goes to Silvermoon
The Prince of the Sun has died
Leaving behind a government triune
That brainwashes when defied

Nobody goes to Silvermoon
Which is really a terrible shame
Because nobody sees its sparkling festoons
Or the Spire with sunlight aflame

Everyone goes to Orgrimmar
And it’s obvious why, to be frank
The entire city’s a bustling bazaar
With nude chicks catching rays at the bank

I wrote this between 1 and 3 in the morning a couple nights ago, so, as with everything I post, I consider it a rough draft. I’ll probably add a few more verses when the mood strikes and I feel like praising the sparkliness or telling Orgrimmar it’s not as tough as it looks. “OHLOOK we slapped some IRON on our not-structurally-sound huts so now it’s SCARYYYYYYGROWLLLLL! ZUG!!!” W/e, guys.


Losing a computer is never easy, but it’s particularly difficult in the first semester of grad school.

Goodbye, Alyssa. I’ll miss you, especially your nice dedicated volume buttons. *sniffles*

And now, hello, Miko! She’s so cute and sleek! Cannot wait to play WoW on her… after I find time to install it…

The best part about having my own computer is I can write things and SAVE THEM ON MY HARD DRIVE. Mmm. Warm fuzzies.

I DID write a few paragraphs on my friend’s Mac in some RTF thingamajig, but the feeling of emailing it to myself and tagging it for future saving and backing up just didn’t cut it. This is not to imply that I heart the new Word (You are trying too hard to be pretty – stop being jealous of Mac things!); What is with those menus, srsly. But despite my gripes, it’s at least familiar, and easier than actually using a writing implement to like, DRAW little phonetic symbols, ha ha (I know, Scott Westerfeld, that was a terrible thing to say).

By the way, did you know the English language has 45 phonemes, but only 26 letters?? Speaking of which, I think I have a paper to write… ON MIKO! WOOT!

Life sounds more interesting in rhyme

exhibit A:

On my way home I stopped and picked up some Chinese food.

exhibit B:

Driving down Easton Ave
Listening to Weird Al’s “Eat It”
Rolling down Easton Ave
Weird Al says to eat it
Tummy’s grumbling, better feed it
No time to find an egg or beat it
Easton Ave – it will provide me
Food and I will eat it

Scent of pizza’s in the air
But Tummy wants Chinese
Falafel and Jamaican fare
But Tummy wants Chinese
Sisi don’t like your Cantonese
But I’ve only got my Tum to please
Don’t care about your dialect
My tummy wants Chinese

Following my Tummy’s lead
Going to Noodle Gourmet
Jaywalking in kitten heels
To get to Noodle Gourmet
Don’t have any cash to pay
But the ATMs one store away
Credit card minimum monster strikes
Tonight at Noodle Gourmet

Picking up the menu
What do I wanna chew?
Folding up the menu
Know what I wanna chew
Cookie says try something new
But Taste Buds say the hell with you
California Noodles crunch
They’re what I wanna chew

My life is so boring but I am full. SO FULL.


Sometimes a story requires a castle. This is probably fine for people who have actually been in castles, but if you’ve never seen one IRL, it can be intimidating.

I’ve actually been to one castle, in Madrid, that won’t do at all as a model for what I have in mind. It was very square. I need something more interesting, like Hogwarts, which is fantastically awesome and which I don’t think I could ever have designed. How did J. K. do it?

It’s plan-making time.

Step 1 – research castles. Did you know castles were originally designed to be fortresses? Many buildings we call castles today would have been pillaged and burned centuries ago.

Step 2 – figure out whether the above has anything to do with my story. Why was my castle built? How long ago? Was it constructed for its current purpose or for another reason?

Step 3 – forget about Step 2 and look at pictures of castles for three hours. I did this a couple weeks ago. This one‘s nice, as is this one. I’ll probably base my castle off these since I was picturing something like them anyway. I just gotta figure out where everything goes…

Step 4 – complain about the lack of castle floor plans available online.

Step 5 – start grad school, finish grad school, save up enough money for a trip to Germany and go on castle tours.

Step 6 – doodle on graph paper to see what I can come up with.

I’ll let you know how it goes. 😉


I have SO MANY (carried most of them down to the basement yesterday…). And several I have only barely begun reading – interesting ones, too. But I have book ADD. “Hey, this looks interesting! Oh, my friend recommended this one! This one was referenced in a blog post I read, maybe I should dust it off and read it.”

Goal for July: Pick a book I already own that I have not finished and read it cover to cover.

The Book: How We Decide by Jonah Lehrer

Why (so I can remind myself why I actually need to do this instead of playing WoW): It’ll probably help with characterization. Also, I spent money on it so I might as well get some info out of it.

So now, I’ll just go on down to the basement to retrieve it and prep the baseboard heaters for painting while I’m there, and maybe actually start reading the darn book before I pass out. Maybe. So tired.

Aaaaaaaaah, it’s a snaaaaaaaaake!

I did go play* outside** the other day [*play = sanding baseboard heater pieces; **outside = in the garage with the doors up].

While happily sanding (before the electric sander went kaput), my mum tapped the work table to get my attention.

“I found a snake,” she said. In the pile of cardboard and wood scraps next to the house that we let sit there (it was kind of hard to remove from under two feet of snow… and then it was wet… and then we were busy…), a little gray striped snake had made a home/found a mouse hunting ground. It was only about a foot long, but as I stared at it, and it stared back, its head raised, tongue flicking, I realized it did not think it was too small to feel indignant at having been disturbed.

I thought I was brave enough to pick it up with a pair of long tongs, but the tongs weren’t as long as I remembered. The hoe was longer, but not angled conveniently for snake-scooping. I managed to chase the snake out of the pile; it undulated itself against the foundation toward the gate – until it noticed the giant, fanged, clawed barking creature on the other side and folded back over itself toward the cover of the scrap pile. I chased it around a bit more, trying to get it to go out to the woods (it wasn’t poisonous, so I figured there was no reason to kill it), until Mom got fed up with my lack of snake-catching abilities and had me hand over the hoe.

“Don’t kill it!” I whined.

“Why not?” she asked.

I turned away.

But then, a group of six or seven high school boys walked by. Mom called out to them:

“Do you boys know anything about snakes?”

Only one was an avid Nat Geo watcher, but they all decided they’d better come take a look. One of them picked it up while I hid behind the dog, I mean, while I kept the beast calm.

“You can have it,” I said. One boy laughed,

“She said, ‘You can have it!'” Yes, I did. What were we going to do with it? Mom made our intrepid hero promise not the scare any girls or his mother with it, and then off they went, down the street, with a snake.

I don’t know the end of the story. I can’t ask the snake; they don’t have ears.