This Girl Will Inform You

I went camping, as my last post about bathrooms would imply.

Jess and I took off Friday afternoon and booted it from Vancouver to Ellison Park (Vernon-ish) which took roughly 5 hours. I didn’t really even notice it taking that long because I was flying down the highway most of the part (yup I got to drive!).

We arrived around 6pm-ish and unloaded everything and set up in about an hour. I was rather impressed. We even got the rent set up in one try. While Jess prepared dinner (salmon!) I got to pump up the air mattress… which took a while because the foot pump was cheap and dinky.

So that night we endured a lot of stupid teens/young adult males cheering, screaming, doing whatever the fuck it is they do until 2am. And then an air bomb went off at 4am. I didn’t really sleep much of that night.

Saturday day! Woke up late. At food. Relaxed. Went to the beach with Monty and Jess. Came back, ate, relaxed.

That night… it was super windy. So I didn’t really sleep.. again.

Sunday day! Cranky day for me because of lack of sleep. Jess read a lot, and I was bored. So I took Monty for a walk to the beach for a bit. And then came back. We ate some food and then went back to the beach to watch the sun set. Jess brought his book and I brought my camera. I shall post pictures later.

That night, the neighbour baby cried all evening, and throughout the night. Seriously, who brings an infant camping?! Morons.

And the Monday morning I was up at 8:40, we ate quick, packed up and checked out.

Stopped in Merritt for milk shakes. (Jess’s tradition) and kept on heading back home with a truck full of stuff.

We got back to Vancouver around 4pm and unloaded a bunch of stuff… Except the cooler. Which worries me. There’s a cooler.. in my living room full of potentially rotten food. Ew. At least garbage day is the day after tomorrow.

Jess and I showered, took a nap and then ordered some sushi! Yum.

And then watched the first episode of season four of the L Word! Weeeeee. Makes me happy. And then we passed out.

Jess gets his audi today too. Which he’s super excited about. It’s a pretty car.

See?

<3sc

This weekend I had the pleasure of going camping with my Love for 3 days.

And while I really enjoyed myself, I did not enjoy the bathrooms. The “outhouses” had running water (sort of) which annoyed me. In all honesty, I’d rather the hole in the ground type outhouses above actual toilets. Why? Because there’s no chance of clogging the toilet and leaving your waste there as a surprise for the next person to use the toilet after you. Of course, as with any type of bathroom, there is the chance of the person some how completely missing the toilet and plastering the wall with pee or letting their toddler finger paint with feces.

Which brings me to the main point of the post. Theatre bathrooms. Why do people pee, wipe themselves and then leave? Without flushing the toilets. Seriously. And why do people check the bathroom and move on to the next one when the toilet the just checked is full, instead of flushing it. Is it that hard?

When I go to a theatre, I drink a lot of water/juice/pop/whatever and then I have to piss like a race horse afterwards. So when I go into the girls’ bathroom, I don’t want to have to go into every stall to check to see if I can go. Seriously. If people would just flush the toilet when they’re finished, none of us would have this problem. Usually if my situation isn’t too urgent, I go through and flush the toilets until I find an empty one.

And one situation (told to me by my “mother-in-law”) is where women pee, and some how get it on the toilet seat and then leave it. They don’t clean it  up, they just go. And the next poor soul comes to sit down assuming that toilet seats are usually dry, and sits in a puddle of cool pee. Not cool. And I’m thinking the reason for this is women standing (yes, standing) on the toilet seat and doing their thing. It’s actually (apparently) quite a problem in Richmond BC (not to far from where I live) where there is a large Asian community, and in one of the malls there’s signs in the girl’s bathroom indicating to the people, not to stand on the seats. I dunno. Apparently in China, or Japan, or Korea? Somewhere, people pee in holes in the ground. So it would only make sense to stand on a toilet seat to them. (I’m not being racist by the way, one of the people at work, who is Chinese told me about this)

So I’m sending out a public service announcment! Mainly to women.

1. Sit when you do your thing. Seriously. And FLUSH!

2. FLUSH! I don’t care how many times you have to do it, just make sure  your shit is down the pipe before you leave the stall.

3. Don’t stand on the toilet seats.

4. If you somehow manage to get waste outside the toilet, clean it up. It won’t kill you. But it’ll make others gag when they come across it.

5. Don’t let your child shit and then paint walls with it. That’s gross.

6. Flush. For F*ck sakes, flush!

7. If you come across a toilet that has been left violated (read: not flushed) flush it.

That’s all.

I’d like to note that the further I wrote this, the angrier I got.

So don’t piss me off. And FLUSH! I haven’t come across a woman who just walked out of a stall without flushing, but if I do, the wrathe of bathroom etiquette shall be upon her. Let her soul rest in peace. *anger*

<3sc

Warning: This post contains spoilers for Transformers II. But if you’re smart you won’t go see it and waste $10.

Don’t go see it.

My friends thought it was epic. I thought it was an epic fail.

What goes on? To be honest, I lost track half way through the movie because I guess I had too much to drink and thought about whether or not my bladder was gonna do a Michael Bay (explode) all over the theatre seats.

So.. Sam is going away to college. Finds a shard of the AllSpark. Gives it to his girlfriend. Goes to college. Meets room mates. Weird shit happens. Girlfriend goes to college to see him “cheating” on her with a robot (fembot ftw!). She gets mad… fembot goes totally pyscho attacks them. They drive away (after running fembot over) and get captured by Megatron (who was brought back to life? and went to his planet and talked to an old megatron dude named “the Fallen”) They want what’s in his brain.

And basically the rest of the movie is running from Megatron and his posse. Optimus dies. And they meet this old decepticon who switched sides to autobots. And he tells them about the Prime (yes like Optimus Prime) and this Matrix key… and how it’s in Egypt with three kings or something. So they find this key and it turns to dust and Sam gets sad because he was gonna use it to bring Optimus Prime back to life.

So the army shows up or something and there’s a lot of “clean” choreographed explosions (the kind that look like fireworks) and shit as Sam and his girlfriend and his room mate and other dude run run run run run. And then Sam dies, but is brought back to life by the ancient Primes and they tell him the Matrix key is not found it’s earned. So they give him the key and then he shoves the key into Optimus Prime’s chest and brings him back to life. And the old decepticon turned autobot is all like, “HAVE MY PARTS!”

So Optimus Prime kicks all their butts and yeah.That’s about all there is to it.

I really liked the first Transformers movie and I was incredibly let down by this one. Even the effects were laaaaame. I counted 24 matte lines (if you’re a compositor or VFX artist at all you’ll know what I mean) and the 3d in it was very… VERY obvious. A lot of it looked to me like plastic and it would have looked better if they just did the entire movie as a Lego miniture set thing. Seriously.

The dialogue was cheesey. The plot was overly chaotic, messy, and unbalanced. The entire movie was just about all explosions. There wasn’t any rest time for me to catch up with the plot because there was a building being crushed very other second.

I cannot convey in words how much I disliked this movie. Mr. Bay did a TERRIBLE job. He basically “masturbated away $200 million.” I hope for the sake of the franchise and the health of my eyes that they do not make a Transformers III.

Dear Michael Bay,

You suck.

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I knew this would happen. I did. I knew that as soon as Roomie got this feline that if she didn’t take care of it, the moment I started telling her she needs to take care of it I’d be portrayed as the bad guy.

And guess what? I am.

Her mother Janice apparently thinks that I’m a total bitch to Roomie about Q.  And I quote…from a source who is friends with a constant contact with Janice.

well it turns out that Janice thinks you’re being awful to Roomie about Q because Q is all she has in life. She has no one else in Van .

she thinks you’re a bag for treating Roomie that way

She’s lonely and you’re being difficult
she’s long getting 1/2 the story, from her

S******** knows the story and feels you are 100% right in feeling the way you do and feels very sorry for the kitten and agrees that if Roomie wanted one she should have been responsible

Yup.

So there we go. The moment I tell Roomie not to leave a 3 month old kitten alone for 12 hours she tells her mother and her mother starts spreading slander about me.

Q is not all she has in life. She has her boyfriend (I am doubting her mother actually knows about the relationship), she has my ex, and she has my ex’s new gf. She’s not alone. Q is. And I’m the evil one for telling her to take responsibility. To not screw off for 12 hours or more because he needs her. Because he needs to be fed. Because he needs to be trained. And cared for.

What’s the lesson here? Don’t fuck with me. Because I don’t care what your mother thinks of me, especially when she’s a bible thumping maniac* with a diluted sense of reality (seriously, you can’t heal someone just because touching their forehead). If you’ve got a dog, a cat, a bird, a fish, a pet f*cking rock, you need to look after it. Seriously.

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* When I say “bible thumping maniac” I mean it. She’s the kind that is hell bent on converting you to being whatever flavor of Christian. She goes to those conventions where the guy is up on stage “healing” people and “calling upon the almighty lord” to heal this poor soul and then they fall over and pretend to convulse. She is seriosuly that crazy.

http://www.bspcn.com/2009/06/23/11-things-the-bible-bans-but-you-do-anyway/

11 things the bible bans but you do anyway. And it’s really like.. small stuff.  Have a read, tell me what you think.

The one part that really makes me happy with it though, is that I’m technically not allowed to go to Church (which is awesome if my grandparents force me to) because I’m the daughter of a bastard child. Read number 8.

Yup…

Anyway it’s not meant to offend or anger or anything.

<3sc

It’s my birthday today

Yup.

I’m 20 now. Twenty. Big two zero.

And I remember when I was 16 and getting my driver’s license I was counting the time it would take for me to get my full license (3 years) and I remember thinking that 3 years was so far away. Well here I am now with my novice license still. And I’m 20. It went by fast, but too slow at the same time.

Let me recap quickly what has happened in the past 4 years of my life. (This post is slightly inspired by Jay’s birthday post.)

At age 16, I was in grade 10 (2004/2005) and in October, I stopped talking to my dad. One month later my father committed assault against my younger brother (age 14). I wasn’t home because I was at a friend’s house studying desperately for math (which I was doing terrible at). It was probably a good thing I was home, because I may have pulled a knife on my dad. He wasn’t someone I looked up to. He was a drunk. And he was violent. From a young age I watched him abuse my mother, my brother, even my dog. But he never really abused me. He played his mind games, but he never physically hurt me (unless it was punishment as a child). Actually, he did a few times in early high school, but I tried to jab his eyes with my thumbs or hit him in the shin with a blunt object or hid in my room desperately trying to keep the door shut (which didn’t have a lock) when this angry 220lb man was yelling at me. For a week my mom, brother, all three dogs and I fled from our home. We packed a bag and left leaving the police at our door step waiting for him. We came back, and I was immediately thrust into a world I’d never been in before. Legal documents, statements, numerous trips to the police station to talk to them about what kind of person my dad was. Half days off from school because I had to talk to a counselor in Toronto over the phone about my problems. I cut my wrists/arms twice with a green exacto knife. And then stopped. No scars were really left. I don’t think I cut deep enough. So I count myself lucky. I encountered my estranged father’s family contacting me non-stopped, begging me to forgive him. I recorded their calls. I recorded his calls. I was stalked by him on my 10 block trip home. I suppressed the urge to throw rocks at his truck. In Feb. of 05 I hurt my knee and ended up quitting the love of my life which was Tae Kwon Do. I got hella better at math because of it (no more gym class) and met a boy named Matthew whom I developed a huge crush on. I think I learned that year what it really felt like to be really close to some one and have such strong feelings for him only to have him tell me I should try dating someone else without even realizing how I felt about him.

I figured out that it’s easier to let go of things that don’t work out. And this little skill proved to be useful later in my life.

Grade 10 ended with the same bull shit of legal documents, statements, police chats. I got a 96% in math, but never finished the course. Shame. I learned to live with a fucked up knee, but continued to hurt it a lot more.

My friends were always there. But I don’t think they really knew what was going on because I kept my mouth shut a lot.

But I was in a play that took up a lot of my time. Bye Bye Birdie. And I think it kept me sane for the most part.

I went to San Fran to nanny this summer. And it changed me. I got to breathe without looking over my shoulder. I looked after a 3 year old (and I think up until then I wanted kids) for 3 weeks and learned some German I’ve now forgotten. But I became more independent and even learned to surf. But boy did I gain weight.

At age 17 (grade 11, 2005/2006) I needed a change. I cut off most of my hair. It was butt length and I cut it to my shoulders. I tried on a new attitude.  I decided to pursue a crush I had on Lance. This was short lived and I detached and moved on. Next up was Brad. He was deeply in love with Justine who led him on. And he in turn led me on. We went on a few dates, movies, coffee, the usual. I ended up getting into writing and poetry a lot. I even wrote a song and he was going to write the music to it. Until I told him the song was for him, and freaked him out. That was the end of any relationship that could have been. In October ‘05 my mom met who is now her husband. And I got to deal with 3am phone calls and a sick mother because she hadn’t slept in 3 days because she was up all night talking to this man.

I saw a lot of knee doctors this year too. And Feb 16th 2006 I got my right knee reconstructed. Two weeks after my knee surgery I moved to Vancouver with my mom and brother. We gave our shephard Shania to my uncle and left Monty and Carver with my nan while we waited to find a home that allowed animals. My mom always gives me shit for not helping move. But I’d like to see her move with a knee that was partly fake and just stitched back together.

I stayed in a quadplexe for 3 weeks. 3 weeks of no phones, limited internet, no friends, no school, no walking, no busing. But then we moved again to North Van. And I started school. With a serious limp. Patrick was my first friend. He actually talked to me and didn’t ask why I was limping so weird.

I got my dog back. And I cried.

I got into photography hard core. Failed a planning class (which is weird because I love planning, and organizing shit) and then fell in love with my first real boyfriend. Jason, who has the same birthday as me… that’s weird. We had our first kiss outside my house on a rock by the river at 9pm as the sun was setting. It was wet, but it was romantic at the time. I’d sneak him over when my parents were out of town. I’d stay the night at his place. It was good for the time. I was happy. I was learning about relationships and love.

And I got an actual restraining order against my dad after a year of getting ones with loop holes.

Grade 11 ended and I got a job at a pizza place. Lame as it was it paid more then other fast food places.

At age 18 (grade 12, 2006/2007) I had the “pleasure” of going to numerous grad meetings, and all that jazz. Not fun. I ignored the school. I focused on art and what I wanted to do with my life. Oct. of 2006 I went to an Open House at The Art Institute and decided I wanted to persue Visual effects as a career. I avidly took part in work shops and word experience courses in school. This is how I met Jess. I took a work shop at Ai and he was my teacher. And I never thought twice about him. I thought he was cute. But I never thought twice. I had applied at VanArts during this time and needed a recommendation letter. I could have gotten it from anyone, but I asked Jess to write it. He wrote it, sent it to me, and we never really spoke after that. We touched base here and there. But nothing more then talking about contacts.

March 17th… 2:30am I lost my virginity after dating Jason for 10 months. I’m still surprised he said yes. I felt like I had waited forever for him to be ready. (Honestly, what 17 almost 18 year old boy doesn’t want sex? Apparently him at the time.)

I moved again with 2 months left in the school year and got to wake up at 5:30 each morning to go to school.

I celebrated a one year anniversary with Jason.

I finally graduated from the hellish school I went to. My dress was yellow and green with lots of beads.

I started talking casually with Jess and found him on facebook. And then I went to California again with Jason and his family. It was incredible. For 7 days I got to play in the water, bask in the sun, get burned by the sun because I’m so f*cking pale and just be. I went to Disney Land, I went to Long Beach. And then I came home and started talking more to Jess.

I had been accepted to VanArts and was working as a maid to save up for school.

Towards the end of the summer I was completely enamoured with Jess. A mature man finished school, with a job. A new challenge to take on. I admit, I had grown bored of Jason working at the Dollar Giant and going no where in life. But that happens when you’re 18. You go no where until you find a current.

I made the decision to leave Jason. It was a “break” really when I went on my first date with Jess. Later that night Jason called me. And I informed him I wasn’t coming back. At the time it was the best and worst night I’d had in a very long time. But I think it was also the best decision I made.

I quit my jobb as a maid and got a job as a photo/video editor making $10 (and then $12) an hour. It was a great job. And Jess got a new job at Stargate. Our relationship was growing fast and it was exciting all the time. I got calls from him. Emails, letters, flowers. He really did a good job at showing how much he cared about me. And one night at my place he told me he loved me. I never said anything back, but my heart melted, I wanted to cry and a huge rush of emotion swept over me. I just kissed him. It’s all I could do. A week later I told him I loved him too.

My ex went crazy and I blocked his phone number. His ex went crazy and he went to dinner with her.

At age 19 (College 2008/2009) I started school at VanArts (when I was still 18) and slowly began to see how much stress a relationship could take when you’re consumed with school work and part time work. Jess was more supportive then I could have asked for. He drove me to work at 7:30am on Saturday mornings, he would drop me off at school on his way to work. He’d help me with school work if I needed it. He was litterally my everything. He took care of me when I broke down from stress. We’d spend my Sundays snuggling and watching movies and just being a happy couple.

He went to the Dominican Republic with his mother and brother for a week and came back to find he’d be laid off. And I can honestly say that I’ve never felt more useless in my life. At least when my mom was dealing with the legal battle with my dad I could give statments, diary entries, so on and so forth. But for Jess I felt that I had nothing to give. I tried my best to help him get through a depressing time span. He got a job at a small studio near my school. We’d go for lunch/dinners when he got off work. He hated working at this place though. And luckily got hired back on at Stargate. After working for a while, he started saving in preperation of moving out.

Jess moved out into his own place with a room mate in September (on our anniversary).

I got to spend a full Christmas with him in his new home. Video games, PJs, popcorn, turkey, and sleeping in. And snuggling. I love me some snuggles.

I decided I wanted to go to France. And Jess decided he was going to come with me.

I finished school. Settled with the school. And got a job at the same place where Jess works.

And there were highs and lows at this job. In fact I almost lost my job in the first episode because of a few reasons (not that I’m a bad worker, or not on time… ) but I picked up my socks. I tried harder. And I got better at my job (I think) (I hope).

I got lucky. I got a job I love. With people who help me in every way imaginable. And I’m learning now, that I don’t want to work at the same place as Jess… ever again. (Sorry Babe, I still love you.)

I moved out even. I got a basement suite with a friend from Fernie whom I love (and get pissed off at the same time) and my dog is with me. I fantasize all the time about moving in with Jess and went over small details with him. I could/can tell he’s just as excited about it as me. I know where I’d like to live. What I’d like to live in. What my plate set, dining room table, wall colours, etc.. would look like. Every day I see more of Jess in my life.

I felt my first real angry pangs of jealousy over his ex wanting to go to lunch with him. And it was weird.

So that’s my life in a nut shell in the past 4 years. I think I turned out alright for some crazy, fucked up child of a broken home.

Happy birthday to me.

And Happy birthday to Shae. She’s 19.

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I went to the Purple Thistle for Coffee House this weekend with my friend Patrick. It was neat. I met him at the Foxy House and then one of his friend’s showed up. Her name was Brooke and she looked like Rizzo from Grease (no lies).

We drove to the store and Patrick ran in to get some cheese and what not for the Coffee House. While he was doing that I chatted with Brooke. After 10 mins and a conversation about sushi and how I’ve never gotten food poisoning from it, she goes “That’s like saying I’ve had unprotected sex for a few months now and I’ve never had a problem. Don’t be a fool.” All this after telling me she’s going to get “blasted out of her f*cking mind on… . … uhhh… morphine.” and then put on her red bikini and hope her “kinda-sorta” girlfriend comes to pick her  up for a 2nd date. Or something.

I just smiled and nodded to avoid conflict and willed Patrick to hurry through the grocery store line ups and get back to the car so I didn’t have to talk to his girl anymore. It was getting awkward and that silence grew after she called me a fool.

So we got to the Thistle and I could feel the headache I had been ignoring for  a few hours grow rapidly. I had some food, listned to some great music, studied some art installations and then told Patrick I was going to take off at 9:30.

I went to a gas store, put $20 in the truck, bought a capsul thinger of tylenol and headed to Taylor’s Crossing to meet up with Jess, Dan and Shae.

The kitchen was closed so we went to Boston Pizza. It’s Shae’s birthday tomorrow by the way, so HAPPY BIRTHDAY SHAE!!!!! Jess gave me my birthday gift in BP’s.

He had given me a few hints earlier in the week. Let me list them off for you before I tell you what he got me.

1. It was constructed on Earth (that rules out moon rocks)
2. It’s in a box
3. It’s exactly what I need
4. I can take it camping (and I thought it was gonna be a portable BBQ)

Vague hints. Ready? He got me a camera! But not just any camera! A Canon XSi (or EOS 450) with a 18-55mm lens. Which makes me really happy because I can switch out the lenses from my Canon EOS 650 film camera and put them on!

It’s part anniversary gift too because it’s kinda pricey. But I’m super happy either way.

My parents also dropped by with a few birthday gifts last weekend. They gave me some glasses and a 9 piece serving set. And my Nan gave me place mats and a floor mat.

But I’m mostly excited about the camera. Now I can take pretty pictures. The point and shoot I have just doesn’t cut it. Well.. it does, but I have more control with this one. Ahh… words cannot describe the joy that fills my chest.

Weee…

And I got a remote for it, so I can do night photography and not worry about it shakin’ around and what not.

Anyway… back to … work?

<3sc

Definitions of ego include

• an inflated feeling of pride in your superiority to others
• self: your consciousness of your own identity

And recently I was told to “get over myself” and to “keep my ego in check.” Both of which I find rather interesting. (Both anonymous comments by males.) And I know this sounds like total highschool drama bull shit. But just hear me out okay?

Society is always telling women to up their self confidence. To quit having such low self esteem. And then when someone is happy with themselves, knows their self worth, is confident, we’re told to “keep our egos in check” or to “get over ourselves.”

In all honesty I was a little annoyed at first when I recieved these comments mostly due to the fact that this person probably doesn’t know me all too well. I looked at the list of friends that had this facebook app and eliminated certain people. Jess and Dan are the only guys I really hang out with and speak to in a regular basis. And so that would leave people that I haven’t spoken to in a ages. People who only really see what kind of a person I am via facebook statuses.

But now, I really don’t care either way. I’m not really hurt, and this isn’t a rant disguised as a post about how it doesn’t bother me. It’s just a cluster fuck of thoughts.

I’m happy with who I am. I don’t think my ego is that big. And if it seems big it’s usually me just being really happy about something and joking about being the greatest thing since sliced bread.

I think more women need to be a bit cocky. A bit more powerful. A bit more bitchy. And I say “bitchy” because we all know that as soon as a woman makes it to the top of the food chain, grasps hold on any amount of power, or even speaks her mind, she’s a total bitch.

Really. So be a bitch. Speak your mind. Grab hold of some power. Steer your life.

And don’t let some anonymous dude tell you to keep your ego in check.

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I don’t really know that much about Pokemon but I know enough thanks to my brother’s (at the time) obsession with them.

And one of my friends posted this on facebook earlier and I took a look. It’s amusing and … kind of depressing. Enjoy.

http://www.collegehumor.com/article:1778083

Day 288

Every day is a fresh introduction to Hell. Trapped in a bll the size of a pomegranate; forced to fight my way throught this pitiful life by a starry-eyed twelve year old. Indeed, the only time I feel the cool breeze against my scaly cheek is when I’m engaged in unwilling combat with something that looks like a palm tree with legs. Every day, I pray to a God I am no longer allowed to believe in for a death that will not come.

I can also hear Squirtle pleasuring himself in the adjacent pokeball. It’s foul.

-C

Day 312

This afternoon, as I’m scartching haikus into the wall of my cell (as I’m want to do), I’m suddently caught in a flash of red light. Three seconds later, I find myself being mauled in the face by a three-headed ostrich. I try to reason with him, entreat his sense of justice, but seeing as we can only say our own names, it was futile. The one consolation I had as my skull was being mercilessly crushed into the ground was that at least when I returned to my spherical cage, I would not be concious.

I think today was my birthday

-C

Day 342

Today, I was released from confinement in what my overlord called a ‘PokeCenter”. Indeed, every town we come to has an overcrowded shack where my bones are hastily set by woman dressed like a fetish nurse. As I looked out the window, I could see the gym towering in the west; I can’t help but to think this entire infrastructure of oppression is thriving even as my kidneys fail. Still, I must take time to count my blessing. For instance, today I was actually given something to drink; it was delicious. the momentary joy of tasting water was soon brought to an end, however, as I soon discovered I’ve become deaf in one ear.

I should be upset, but in a world such as mine, what music is there to hear?

-C

Day 368

Today, my stomach started curdling at the sight of my electric nemesis- Pikachu. I cannot comprehend how that yellow rat may walk beneath the sky whilst I am held captive in a bi-coloured tennis ball. He may see the rising of the mood and feel the changing of the seasons, while I am trapped within the obsidian core of this tiny, insufferable globe, forced to sit in a pool of my own filth. That static-charged Judas has gained favor with our prepubescent tyrant by turning a blind eye to the enslavement of his people, and he will someday pay for these sins. Someday, my anguished bellows will echo in his ears as the light slowly fades from his adorably oversized eyes.

As a side note, I can longer remember the sound of my mother’s voice.

-C

Day 407

It has been a forthnight since I have last seen the sun. An infection seems to have grappled hold of my lunchs and renders me useless for even the most menial of tasks. There was once a time where I knew I could at least count on being momentarily freed to start a fire, solved a puzzle, or reheat a meal my master would never dream of sharing, but now it isn’t so. Whene’re I attempt to summon fire from my belly, naught is produced but a pile of clotted lung-bloody and soot. I can feel my time drawing nigh, and though I have known only misery and fear at the hands of the human child, I do not begrudge my fate.

On second thought, yes. Yes I do

-C

So there you go… Life of a pokemon.

I giggled..

And then curse anime conventions… (sorry Shae)

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I’ve decided that I’m going to quit VFX in order to persue my deeply hidden passion to become a Michael Jackson Impersonator purely for the fact that I will be able to learn how to copy all his bitchin’ dance moves.

Don’t try to stop me.

This is destiny.

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