Monday.
I'm up around6 so i can take my time-ish, getting ready, bandages are still hell. I wake up Janelle when proceed downstairs and across a covered walkway, and around to the convention center. I meet Ralph and Scott P. and Alani, some of the metors. Ralph hadn't been at the thing on Sunday, so I think I was the first mentee to meet him. I then actually get into the introductory plenary session that's to get the ball rolling on everything. The introduction is fine, but the speaker, some woman who's presenting some information about Wisconsin wetlands. The woman was a horrible speaker. Now, I can't remember what I disliked about it, but I ws not enjoying listening to her, so I stepped out a minute earlier than the session ended.
There was some time before the first mentor-mentee thing that frank had set up for us, so I bought some terrible coffee from the hotel. Mein gott, it was bad, burnt to high hell. Waste of money. The session the mentors had for us was specifically about being a minority and getting minorites interested in the sciences. It was interesting enough. I had a short conversation with one of the speakers after this, but I'll get to that.
That session broke and we were free for lunch and whatever else we felt like doing. There's a rumor of free sandwiches upstairs, so I get one, then leave the other girls and wander back downstairs. In the convention center I run into the mentors, Kellen and Jennifer. The mentors and presenters were heading out for lunch, so I lead the group to the Great Dane, the third time there in as many days.
This time we're seated outside. I'm situated between Ralph [i think] and Dwayne, one of the speakers. Ken is there, Alani, one of the other speakers, Frank, I think both Scotts. I hve a grilled cheese sammich and some fresh vegetables. The conversation started about what the speakers had to say. I think I mostly listened. Can't remember it all. It was a fine lunch. We had back to the convention. I pop into a few more sessions before going up to the room to relax and change before the Student Mixer on the roof of the Convention Center. I see some fucked up shit on the news then go to the mixer itself. The food is alright. I eat enough for it to be my dinner.
I leave the mixer because it's hot as hell, and go back to the room. I stay there for a bit, then want to wander down state street, but not alone, so I go back to the roof of the CC and find some people there. I decide on ice cream, and the Scotts, Alani, Chelsea and I think Janediy leave with me, thinking ice cream would also be good. As we're walking I start explaining to Scott L., Chelsea and Janadiy the awesomeness of fencing, then we realize that Scott P. and Alani are lagging. We all stop and wait for them, then Alani tells us something bad has happened. By the end of the week I've pieced together that her mother got ill, well that's my assumption. We're all kind of down for a moment, and I point out a lady bug in Janadiy's hair. We've had a moment of silence, not knowing what to say, and this ladybug and the rest of the walk are a small reprieve for Alani. We all continue to a locally owned place in the middle of State St.
Scott L. ducks out because he needs to catch the tram back to his hotel, but Alani, Scott P. and Janadiy continue walking with me to the Walgreens down the hill. I'm in need of tape because I forgot to topp it into my bag before flying out. Tape and some edibles it's back up the hill to the hotel. It's late now, around 11 or something. I retire to my room and relax with the internet before going to bed.
Tuesday
I spend my morning on the internet, not wanting to go to see any of the speakers. I finally leave the room because of a session with the mentors. This is an interesting affair and it's treated as a dialogue between the mentors and us undergraduates. I can't remember what I did between this and the evening dinner. I remember, I sat in on parts of sessions. One I had to leave because the girl was so nervous that I couldn't stand listening to her. I felt bad for her. She knew her information, but was incredibly uncomfortable speaking in front of a crowd. I think I popped in and out of presentations until sitting in the hallway and chatting with people. Today was the first day of poster presentations. I didn't have one, but I did mingle and look at other people's posters.
The dinner was alright. Chicken something or other. The speaker was much better than I'd previously thought. He was a journalist and wrote a book based off of research about treaties and such in relation to the Great Lakes. How it was diverged and what not. Pretty damn interesting.
After dinner most of us undergrads went out down State Street. This night we shop together a little, I think, then hit a bar that cards me and lets me in. I end up buying a bunch of $1 drinks because it was easier than trying to think of mixed drinks to order, and lot cheaper. We leave this one after some time, and go into a second one. I don't feel like staying, and walk back on my own. This is the night my walk took forever. I stop and pee in a Greek place, and make it back to the hotel safely. I crash, it's going on 2am I think.
Wednesday
I get up early, proving to Nakoa and Freddy that I'm not so lazy as to no go to some speakers. I can't remember what I sat in on, but I go to a few. Needing caffeine I buy a espresso from the hotel. I should have learned my lesson from the day before, but apparently I hadn't. Hmm, today there's the luncheon for the mentors and mentees and that's pretty chill. Sandwiches, soup, a potato salad. The food was right tasty. The conversation amusing.
After lunch I hang out in the hallway waiting for the second career session to start. I chat with some people and pop in and out of sessions for a bit. I also collect some swag from the exhibition hall. I go to the afternoon career session. This one is much more formal than the one from the day before was. I was also really tired an started dozing. I felt a little bad about that.
I head off on my own for dinner. It's one of those days I get after being around people for too long. I need to be alone, so I go to eat alone. I'm sorely mistaken when I get back to the room. Janelle and Jennifer are up there. I grab my books, the Ames one and Public Enemies, and head downstairs. I get a glass of cranberry juice from the bar. They're nice and give it to me for free. I just sit and read for a while. Enjoying being on my own for an hour or two. It's pleasant. I'm tired, it's about midnight, so I go back upstairs, but Jennifer is still there. I'm fighting my antisocial urge of being rude and chat with the two of them before finally going to sleep.
Jasmine P.
Showing posts with label description. Show all posts
Showing posts with label description. Show all posts
July 7, 2009
July 3, 2009
Wildin' Out in Wisconsin
After regaling the Ficus with tales of Wisconsin, I think I might hop to and get started on writing about that week before it gets too far away from me. From the other entry, before my heartbroken and voyeuristic rant, I left off from the night before leaving for Madison, WI.
After sobering up and waiting for my flight, between Norfolk and Detroit was uneventful. There was that weird bitch who wanted to wait in a longer line, but that was before the flight. I had an aisle seat which was pretty chill. I stayed awake the entire time and read through my new Esquire after I finished the SMod I'd been listening to. In Detroit I was originally worried about not being able to find my next terminal, but they were damn near side by side. from A-2 to A-7, so I grabbed an overpriced sandwich from Quiznos because it had been 12+ hours since my previous meal. I chilled and hopped onto my second flight. This time I was closer to the front of the plane, still in the aisle, and this plane was only 5 seats across, unlike the first which was 6.
In Wisconsin there was some trouble at the airport because the courtesy phones were being worked on or something, so the lady at the information desk called the hotel for me, and I waited. It took the kid about 30 min to get me, then it was just the two of us in one of those vans. DC sniper style, plus windows. Hmm, a regular van, I dunno. I checked into the hotel and freaked out because my check card was mia, but at some point I'd put it into the larger pocket where cash goes instead of behind my liscense. All was good about and hour later. I checked in and fucked around on the internet for a while.
Starved, I got a map and left the hotel on my own, striking out to find something cheap and close. I ended up going to the Great Dane, a bar, and order some pretzels. They were huge puffy pretzel sticks and in store made mustard. The pretzels were tasty, and the mustard a different experience. It had horserdish in it, made it some spicy shit. Seriously. My sinuses were clear, every time it tuched my tongue my mouth watered and my eyes teared. The bartender was nice and kept asking if I wanted anything else, I drank water. In retrospect I might have been able to get booze, but it was well enough that I hadn't tried for it.
Finished with my snack and adventure I headed back to the hotel and soon met with my roommate Janelle. I was quiet and wary, probably from being tired. I dunno. We both took naps and were the last to show up for dinner with Prof. Day, who I may or may not refer to as Frank for the rest of this post. Anywho, it's Frank, myself, Janelle, Chelsea, Freddy, Nakoa and Kellen at dinner this evening. Jenediy[sp] and Jennifer don't arrive until 10 so we go out without them for a group dinner.
We all walk down state street and decide on an Italian place. The conversation is tame, compared to the rest of the week. Freddy tells a bunch of silly stories and so the jokes start. Making fun of him. He said 'i don't know why, but girls keep giving me things' or silly things like that. After dinner Frank goes back to the hotel and our group continues down State St. where we just look around. Some of us buy some very tasty gellato from a local place. We keep on down the hill, eying places to check out later. I see a hat place called 'The Stuffed Feather' and decide to go there the next day.
We all walk all the way down the hill before some of us go back to the hotel. The boys, Nakoa and Freddy, keep walking around and find a bar eventually, apparently, from what they tell us later. Janelle and I chat a bit before going to sleep.
Sunday, June 22.
I wake sometime mid morning. I hang in the hotel for a while, until I'm too hungry to not wander, and eventually leave, heading down State St. where I go to the hat place. I buy my awesome new corduroy cap then head to the Noodle Company for lunch. I think now I wander back to the hotel so I can register for the week and get my name tag and program. Originally I'm not on the list for my field trip, so I get that sorted out. I then hang out in the lobby before the unndergrads and their mentors all meet up. Here there's a preliminry introduction to the rest of the mentors. I meet both Scotts there, Rebecca, Ken, Jacoby, and Alani. Ralph is late, I forget why.
Our big ole group heads to the Great Dane for dinner. The food is fantastic. I buy a chicken pot pie. Mmm, tasty. I spend the evening chatting with one of the Scotts, not registering there are two of them. I think I make and interesting impression on Scott L. who ends up being one of my favorite people to chat with for the entire week. Also at my table are Nakoa, Ken, Frank, Chelsea, and Jenediay. There was another man there, but I'm not sure who. The conversation goes from out ages to our interests. It's loose and fun.
After dinner the mentors roll out, and use undergrads walk down State St. to the University of Wisconsin-Madison campus is. Their student center sells beer. I drink some horrible weak miller light then decide I'm really not a beer person. Freddy tries to give me crap about it, but I defend my point that I think beer tastes horrible, and that I like real alcohol, liquor and such. We all walk back because we have an early morning.
Back in the hotel Janelle and I end up staying up for a time on out computers. Janelle is apparently having a fight with her boyfriend and stays up until 4. We're supposed to go to the plenary session in the morning. I try to sleep, and do succeed for the most part, sleeping until I need to get ready.
----
Ooh, so much writing for only two days. I'll continue on my play-by-play of the week after sleeping seeing as how I have things I need to do in the morning and would like sleep myself. Next post, Monday and the plenary session until...Tuesday or Wednesday I presume. It depends on when I start writing. Geez, this post is so epically long.
Jasmine P.
After sobering up and waiting for my flight, between Norfolk and Detroit was uneventful. There was that weird bitch who wanted to wait in a longer line, but that was before the flight. I had an aisle seat which was pretty chill. I stayed awake the entire time and read through my new Esquire after I finished the SMod I'd been listening to. In Detroit I was originally worried about not being able to find my next terminal, but they were damn near side by side. from A-2 to A-7, so I grabbed an overpriced sandwich from Quiznos because it had been 12+ hours since my previous meal. I chilled and hopped onto my second flight. This time I was closer to the front of the plane, still in the aisle, and this plane was only 5 seats across, unlike the first which was 6.
In Wisconsin there was some trouble at the airport because the courtesy phones were being worked on or something, so the lady at the information desk called the hotel for me, and I waited. It took the kid about 30 min to get me, then it was just the two of us in one of those vans. DC sniper style, plus windows. Hmm, a regular van, I dunno. I checked into the hotel and freaked out because my check card was mia, but at some point I'd put it into the larger pocket where cash goes instead of behind my liscense. All was good about and hour later. I checked in and fucked around on the internet for a while.
Starved, I got a map and left the hotel on my own, striking out to find something cheap and close. I ended up going to the Great Dane, a bar, and order some pretzels. They were huge puffy pretzel sticks and in store made mustard. The pretzels were tasty, and the mustard a different experience. It had horserdish in it, made it some spicy shit. Seriously. My sinuses were clear, every time it tuched my tongue my mouth watered and my eyes teared. The bartender was nice and kept asking if I wanted anything else, I drank water. In retrospect I might have been able to get booze, but it was well enough that I hadn't tried for it.
Finished with my snack and adventure I headed back to the hotel and soon met with my roommate Janelle. I was quiet and wary, probably from being tired. I dunno. We both took naps and were the last to show up for dinner with Prof. Day, who I may or may not refer to as Frank for the rest of this post. Anywho, it's Frank, myself, Janelle, Chelsea, Freddy, Nakoa and Kellen at dinner this evening. Jenediy[sp] and Jennifer don't arrive until 10 so we go out without them for a group dinner.
We all walk down state street and decide on an Italian place. The conversation is tame, compared to the rest of the week. Freddy tells a bunch of silly stories and so the jokes start. Making fun of him. He said 'i don't know why, but girls keep giving me things' or silly things like that. After dinner Frank goes back to the hotel and our group continues down State St. where we just look around. Some of us buy some very tasty gellato from a local place. We keep on down the hill, eying places to check out later. I see a hat place called 'The Stuffed Feather' and decide to go there the next day.
We all walk all the way down the hill before some of us go back to the hotel. The boys, Nakoa and Freddy, keep walking around and find a bar eventually, apparently, from what they tell us later. Janelle and I chat a bit before going to sleep.
Sunday, June 22.
I wake sometime mid morning. I hang in the hotel for a while, until I'm too hungry to not wander, and eventually leave, heading down State St. where I go to the hat place. I buy my awesome new corduroy cap then head to the Noodle Company for lunch. I think now I wander back to the hotel so I can register for the week and get my name tag and program. Originally I'm not on the list for my field trip, so I get that sorted out. I then hang out in the lobby before the unndergrads and their mentors all meet up. Here there's a preliminry introduction to the rest of the mentors. I meet both Scotts there, Rebecca, Ken, Jacoby, and Alani. Ralph is late, I forget why.
Our big ole group heads to the Great Dane for dinner. The food is fantastic. I buy a chicken pot pie. Mmm, tasty. I spend the evening chatting with one of the Scotts, not registering there are two of them. I think I make and interesting impression on Scott L. who ends up being one of my favorite people to chat with for the entire week. Also at my table are Nakoa, Ken, Frank, Chelsea, and Jenediay. There was another man there, but I'm not sure who. The conversation goes from out ages to our interests. It's loose and fun.
After dinner the mentors roll out, and use undergrads walk down State St. to the University of Wisconsin-Madison campus is. Their student center sells beer. I drink some horrible weak miller light then decide I'm really not a beer person. Freddy tries to give me crap about it, but I defend my point that I think beer tastes horrible, and that I like real alcohol, liquor and such. We all walk back because we have an early morning.
Back in the hotel Janelle and I end up staying up for a time on out computers. Janelle is apparently having a fight with her boyfriend and stays up until 4. We're supposed to go to the plenary session in the morning. I try to sleep, and do succeed for the most part, sleeping until I need to get ready.
----
Ooh, so much writing for only two days. I'll continue on my play-by-play of the week after sleeping seeing as how I have things I need to do in the morning and would like sleep myself. Next post, Monday and the plenary session until...Tuesday or Wednesday I presume. It depends on when I start writing. Geez, this post is so epically long.
Jasmine P.
March 22, 2009
He Plays For the Other Team
Good Morning you lucky movie goers. I wil lnow be cross posting a story I wrote all the way back in 2004. I know what you're thinking, "'04 wasn't that terribly long ago" True, it was only a sad five years ago that I wrote this, but I have grown as a writer and as a person, and the jumps in age as a kid are that much mroe sustantial than the jumps in age as an adult. I mean, the brunt of our growth is done before we're twenty. Hell, for most people height is accomplished by about 18, 19. Guys are a bit different, but for the most part 20 is where everything ends, so my intelligence and writing skill have increased substantially since 2004 when this was written.
For a little bit of backbone for the creation of this story and the characters here we go. I spent a whole mess of time during 9th grade reading yaoi and I spent the following summer riding to the Books-A-Million or Barnes & Noble on the other side of Reston. Other time that summer was spent being a pissy depressed kid, and writing. Sometime during ninth grade I started reading fanfiction and after a while I wrote some fanfiction, most notably are three things. One Hellsing story, based off the anime more so than the manga, of Seras' last night as a human. (I hope that's on my external...) I'd written a Gravitation song-fic that was a suicide song written by Shuichi and sung by Ryuichi at Shuichi and Yuuki's joint funeral. Not the best thing written. My final fanfic that I can remember cursing the internet with was one about Inuyasha where Kagome decides that she needs to live in the present instead of the past and tells Inuyasha she's not spending her summer in the Feudal Era, but instead in the present day. Inuyasha is of course angered by this and jumps through the well, gets stuck in the present day, and has to live out his summer with her. At some point they were going to have sex, I seriously can't remember when. Back in the Feudal era Sango and Miroku were gettin' it on at a hot spring alone, they left Shippou with Kaede.
After writing these stories, I decided I was tired of playing with someone else's characters. I was like 'I don't need all this background exposition to write smut' so I sat down and wrote one called' Lessons from My Mother' about this girl who's snooping through her mother's drawers and finds her vibrator and a milieu of other sex toys. Her mother comes home to gfind her snooping and proceedes to sexually punish her daughter. I had another story about twin brothers who arbitrailly go at it.
All that, those 5 stories and whatever else I never let see the light of day were all preperation for this story, this epic story about a guy who gives his self sexual amnesia to please his mother. At 15 I never thought about how big of a topic it was until I seriously got into writing it, and never finished it. It's a story that I think is important, and could work out. It needs to be re-written to pieces, but here are the first two chapters. Chapters 3 and 4 will be on their own just because chapter 4 is as long as it is. It's sad really, I stopped writing this just when the story was getting good and into it's drama and actually addressing everything that is hinted at.
Well, that was supposed to be shorter than it is, but it happens. I hope this doesn't make your eyes bleed too terribly.
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HE PLAYS FOR THE OTHER TEAM
DAISUKE ICHIGO
:Summary: The trials and tribulation of two college students as hey find out more about their true selves. Ronnie, the younger girlie-boy and Brian the older tan skinned mystery, together they learn a lot about themselves. (I suck as summaries, please don't hate?)
ROOMMATES
His tan skin. His smooth creamy tan skin underneath me, moving with me. I look into his emerald eyes as he looks up at me. His arms around my neck pulling me down into a warm kiss. Me moans my name "Ronnie, Ronnie, harder, push it harder. Deeper, make me come hard." I comply, he moans into my neck as I work to make us come. Speeding up I call his name, "Brian!"
Ronnie wakes up with a small muffled scream as he rolls over to look at his bed side clock. 1:47am shines back at him, bright red numbers in an otherwise dark room. "Shit," looking across the room he notices his roommate isn't there. "Good, at least if I was talking in my sleep, he wasn't here to hear me." Flopping back into bed Ronnie tries to banish the dream from his head as he falls back to sleep. As he slowly starts snoring, he this he hears the high squeal of their dorm door opening and then closing, no light shining in.
Ronnie wakes up the next morning, his body curled tightly into a ball, held close to warm body. Opening his eyes, he sees firm tan skin and feels the weight of an arm around him. Moving his head ever so slightly, he sees the innocent, sleeping face of the man he longed for in his dreams.
What the hell? Why is Brian over here? Aww shit, he must ave been drunk whenever he came in last night. Sighing before slowly shifting, Ronnie tries to get out of bed without waking the older man, and fails. Brian opens an unfocused emerald eye and brings the hand he had around Ronnie to his face to rub sleepily at his eye.
"Son of a bitch," he groans, opening both eyes and focusing his vision on the bare chested body in front of him. Hmm, what's wrong with this body? He thinks groggily following the muscle line up the neck to the face where he sees shock and mild fright on his roommates' face. Trying to focus on the face above him, Brian feels his stomach heave twice, painfully, before he rolls over and empties his stomach on the edge of the rug and onto the hardwood paneling under the bed. When his stomach is empty of all it had he dry heaves a few times before rolling back onto the bed, eyes unfocused as he looks up to the long haired figure above him. Smiling weakly he moans, "You were right Juliana," he moans with a small laugh, "I can't hold my liquor." Falling asleep, Brian moves to the warmth he thinks to be his sister and his breathing evens out, softly.
Ronnie carefully untangles himself from Brains painful grip as he looks at his clock. 8.52am glares at him, fighting to be seen in the bright sunlight behind the window. Having successfully untangled himself this time, without waking Brian, Ronnie leans over the bed to see what Brian hit as he puked. Crinkling his nose form the smell, Ronnie slowly crawls toward the foot of the bed to find a shirt and to get a mop. Dammit, why the hell did Brian have to puke all over my backpack? I swear, I'm gonna make him by me a new one, I don't have the money to get a new one my self. Cursing his roommates weak stomach, Ronnie goes to the fairly large common room and presses his thumb against a green pad on the wall next to a door across the room. The door opens, sliding up and he gets the mop and water bucket out so he can clean the mess.
Returning to his room, Ronnie gets to work, blessing whoever was watching over him that today was a Saturday, so he didn't have any classes to go to. Out loud he said, "You're lucky today's a Saturday, or your ass would have been dumped on the floor in this mess." Sighing as he thought about how he'd never do that, Ronnie returned the cleaning supplies before going to the communal bathroom used by the other three dorms in their block to was up before returning to his room, refreshed in body and spirit.
Back in his room, Ronnie saw Brian sitting up still in his bed, his short spiky brown hair sticking out in all directions. "Morning, Sunshine."
"Bah. Why the hell am I in your bed, and what's that god awful smell?" Brian asked one of his hands resting limply in his lap, the other holding his head as if the pain would split it apart as he looked around the room confused.
"You came in last night drunk as a fish," Ronnie said, digging through one of his drawers looking for a clan shirt. "Woke up about 45 minutes ago and up chucked to beat the band all over my backpack, which you are replacing, the rug, and some of the floor under my bed,." Settling an orange shirt that said 'It's a dog-eat-dog world out there and I plan on being full' He then pulled on the black jeans he's been wearing the day before and his sneakers on while sitting on Brian's bed. "I have no idea why you came to my bed, but I am royally pissed that you fucked up my bag. I'm going out to get you some antacids, so you don't do that again, and pain killers, because from experience, your head should be falling apart about now. Stay there, I'll be back in ten." Walking to the door, Ronnie made a right and pressed is thumb over another green sensor pad that opened a door to a short corridor.
Pressing to door to the elevator, Ronnie wondered just how long he'd be able to keep up his charade about not being in love with his roommate hae had been ecstatic when he saw Brian in his bed, with him, wondering if he'd gone there on purpose. Seeing the doors open, he said good morning to the two other boys in the elevator before stepping in, trying not to think about how much he liked having Brian's warmth next to him.
Brian sat up sluggishly, his arms feeling like lead weights, his head throbbing, and his stomach starting to wretch painfully again at the rancid smell reaching his nose. Hearing to door open, he looked up and saw Ronnie toweling his hair, walking back to their room in nothing but his boxers.
"Morning, Sunshine," Ronnie said after a small look of surprise crossed his face seeing his roommate up already.
Glaring at his roommate he growled, "Bah. Why the hell am I in your bed, and what's that god awful smell?" he asked turning his head as if that would help him find the culprit, and to stop, looking at his younger roommates exposed glistening flesh.
Letting the towel rest on his neck, Ronnie replied as he dug through his dresser for something, "You came in last night drunk as a fish. Woke up about 45 minutes ago and up chucked to beat the band all over my backpack, which you are replacing, the rug, and some of the floor under my bed." Brian looked at the bright shirt Ronnie put on thinking first about how it hurt is eyes, and then how good he looked in it. He watched as his roommate continued to get dressed as he spoke. "I have no idea why you came to my bed, but I am royally pissed that you fucked up my bag. I'm going out to get you some antacids, so you don't do that again, and pain killers because your head should be falling apart about now. Stay there, I'll be back in ten."
Brian watched as his roommate walked to the room, his eyes focused on the sexy ass that was half hiddeom vom view because of the jeans. Falling back on the bed dizzy, Brian rested one hand over his eyes as if to block out the morning sun as he dozed, wondering why the room suddenly felt to hot, rousing slightly when he heard Ronnie's voice rumbling to his ears from behind him, his hand gently passing through his hair as if to tame the wild spikes. He tried to focus on the words his roommate said, but the sounds eluded him as he leaned back heavily against the warmth behind him, feeling strong arms wrap around him, comforting him as he slept.
Ronnie came back to the room ten minutes later only to see that Brian had fallen back onto the bed, his breathing short, slightly erratic, as if he had a fever. Dropping the matioation and the food he'd brought to go with them on his bedside table, he quickly pulled off his shoes and shirt before sitting on the bed behind the sleeping boy, pulling Brian to sit in his lap.
"You foolish boy, you shouldn't be drinking when you're sick." He said softly, more to himself then to Brian. "I wonder what you did to make you drink so, you only do that when something's wrong. I've been your roommate since the beginning of September and now it's mid-November, so I should know you as well as I'd know anybody." Absentmindedly smoothing his hair, Ronnie felt Brian stir a little before settling again, still asleep. "Don't worry, you'll be fine. I'll protect you," he said wrapping his arms around Brian tighter before laying down with him, Brian's head nestled safely under his chin, their bodies pressed together, Ronnie hugging him from behind, as if he could pass his health along to the other boy.
Soon both of them were breathing deeply, the fall morning sun enveloping them in their quiet world of peace.
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A new story! Yippee!:: jumps for joy:: Brian and Ronnie will be having a bit of fun later on, but how much fun can you have with a sick person. ..please... don't any of you answer that. I don't want my fragile innocent (snicker) mind to be ruined.
Anyway, I'll be back soon. I'm not sure how long this is goinglastlast, but it will be interesting, I'll be posting chapter two soon. Please don't hate that it's short, I'm just building up for something longer and more interesting for later, hopefully, enjoy!
D. I.
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Chapter 2
HE PLAYS FOR THE OTHER TEAM
DAISUKE ICHIGO
:Summary: The trials and tribulation of two college students as hey find out more about their true selves. Ronnie, the younger girlie-boy and Brian the older tan skinned mystery, together they learn a lot about themselves. (I suck as summaries, please don't hate?)
Here's chapter two! Yippee! I hope y'alls enjoy this new story just as much as y'all enjoyed my last post! DI
FIRST MEETINGS
Brian woke up again, alone in Ronnie's bed with cool, damp cloth on his forehead. Looking up at the ceiling, he focused his attention on the posters his roommate had nailed up there, remembering the day they had met.
~~~~~~~~~~
Brian pressed his thumb against the identification pad to his building with his arms loaded with his computer for classes, and kicking a crate with CD's through the door. Setting the computer on top of the crate, Brian pushed up his wire rimmed glasses, looking for the elevators when somebody picked up his computer.
"Excuse me? What are you doing?" he asked the other boy, who was now holding the computer. This boy was wearing a black bandanna tied in the back of his head under the bangs of his shoulder length brown hair. He looked taller then Brian's 5'6", possible 6' 2", holding the computer like it was nothing.
"You looked as if you could use a little help. I'm Damien Leos, the RA, I'm just over there," Damien replied pointing to a hallway to their right.
"Okay, thanks. I'm Brian Grey, I live on the fourth floor in the blue cell," he replied picking up his CDs and following Damien to the elevators.
"I was in blue my first year, it's one of the nicer cells." Damien said as the elevator stopped to admit them on the first floor.
"Hey, wait, please hold the elevator," a voice called as a long red haired boy ran through the foyer of the dorm building, with a large blue duffle slung over his shoulder, a television somehow balanced in his hands. Brian pushed the 'door open' button for the boy, as he finished crossing the room. In the elevator the boy put his television down, but still held onto his bag. "Thank you for holding the door," he said as the doors closed.
"No problem, which floor are you on?" Damien asked as the elevator began to move.
"Four, I'm in blue, I've already been up a few times, but I didn't wan to wait for the other elevator, these things are so fucking slow." Looking at the two boys in front of him, the new boys' pale gray eyes carefully studied both of their faces, as if to commit them to memory. "I'm Ronald Kir III, but most people call me Ronnie."
"I'm Brian and thisDamiDamien, the RA." Brian said extending his had for the other boy to shake. "I'm also in cell blue."
"Nice to meet you, Ronnie," Damien said also shaking hands in greeting.
The boys continued talking, explaining where they had come from as they reached the fourth floor, second from the top, and made a right from the elevator to the blue cell. Damien pressed his thumb against the ID pad and the door opened, revealing a large living room, with light blue walls. There was a couch and television on the left of them, and a small kitchen area to their right. There were four doors spread out around the room, each with a number painted on the blue, in white paint.
"So, which room were you assigned?" Damien asked as Ronnie made his way across to room three.
"I was assigned to," Brian started as he balanced his computer in one hand, digging in his pocket for his assignment card, "room three."
"Cool, were roommates," Ronnie said as he opened the door to their room. The room had two twin bed on opposite sides of the room, the head boards facing opposite sides. There were two desks, one by the window , the other by the door, and a large double closet that had a divider in the middle to separate their clothes. The floor was wooden planked, and it had appeared that Ronnie had claimed one side of the room already, the left side, leaving the right side to Brian.
Damien put Brian's computer on the desk nearest to the door, "See ya guys, I gotta go."
"Bye, tanks for helping," Brian said dropping CDs on the floor by the desk. "Hey, Ronnie, would you mind helping me bring the rest of my stuff up here?"
"Sure, no problem." Ronnie said straightening form putting bag on the floor, next to the bed. "It's not going to take me long to unpack, so okay." In the hallway heading back to the elevator the boys chatted more about their families. "So, how old are you? When's your birthday?"
"May, 30th, I'm 20 right now," Brian replied as they rode back down the elevator. "You?"
"November 17th, I'm turning 20," Ronnie replied as they reached the ground floor and went to where Brian had left his car.
At the car the boys picked up more bags before they headed back up to their dorms. It took them three more trips to get the rest of Brian's stuff. On their last trip up stairs they passed another boy lugging three heave bags to their dorm building.
"Hey, you," Ronnie called slinging shifting his box of Brian's handwritten stories to resettle it more balanced, "do you need some help?"
"Me?" the boy with short, black hair asked turning to see who was questioning him. "Nah, I'm fine, but I might need some help getting in." he said blushing sheepishly.
"That's alright," Brian said balancing his box in one hand to press the ID pad. "which floor are you on?" the three walked into the dormitory.
"I'm on two, cell green, dorm 1," he replied heaving as he leaned against the elevator wall. "I'm Pailu Frank, most people call me Pai."
"Hi Pai, this is Brian and I'm Ronnie," he said indicating to each of them. "We're roommates on four, cell blue, dorm 3."
"I'll have to come up sometime," Pailu said as the elevator stopped on his floor. "Good luck this year," he waved as he dragged his stuff off the elevator, down a green hallway.
As the doors closed Ronnie sighed thinking about how hard his junior year was going to be. "So, I meant to ask this sooner, what's your major, it looks to be writing, but I could be wrong."
"I'm a screen and stage writer." Brian said tapping the box Ronnie had set at his feet. "In that box are some of my older plays." Brian smiled as a wave of nostalgia passed through him. "I used to be big, back in the day in that foreign place called high school. My major is in English, play-write to be exact, but I'm hoping to get my name in lights, somewhere. I plan on traveling if I don't do any good in the States." The elevator stopped on four, and they walked to blue. "What's you major?"
"I'm majoring in writing, novels not plays, and my minor is in acting." He replied as they walked into their common room only to find three other boys on the couch. "Yo," Ronnie waved.
"Hey, I'm Liam, Liam Elda." A tall lanky looking fellow said straightening from leaning over the back of the couch. Liam wore his light brown hair cut short, red on its tips as it spiked away in the back. "I'm in yellow, dorm 4, I was helping Mickey here, he's in dorm 1."
"Yo, I'm Michael Dower, like Liam said, I'm in 1." Michael was sitting on the couch, a box in his lap with controllers to a PS2 and game jewel cases. "Which rooms are you in?"
"Son of a bitch," a fairly high for guy's voice erupted from behind the television. A small, mousy frame emerged, his brown hair graying with dust, two electronic cords in his hands. Looking at the long-red haired boy and at the brown haired brunette he started blushing in embarrassment. "Sorry about the out burst, I'm Kirk, Kirk Magyar. Dorm 4, my roommate isn't here yet, but it's early, only 2," extending his hand, both Brian and Ronnie accepted introducing themselves.
Ditching Brian's stuff in their dorm, the boys went back out to the common room to see if they could help Kirk, Michael and Liam. Ronnie flopped into the comfortable sagging couch on Michaels right side, Brian on his left. "Hey, Mousy, Kirk, do you need any help?" Ronnie called correcting himself before Kirk could pull himself from the tangle of cords to glare at him.
Kirk huffed with exasperation, "I'm fine, but you'd think an electronic major could put together a simple video game system, it's like damn." Dropping the wires, Kirk backed up from his place behind the television, "Ronnie, Brian, can either of you put together a PS2?"
"I had one," Brian said getting backup and going behind the TV. "Somebody, turn on the TV and change the TV input," he ordered while he fiddled with the cords Kirk had dropped in disgust. The screen automatically changed to a dark picture with a floating memory card and game CD. "There, that was simple enough."
"Fuck you," Kirk said growling as he stalked off toward his room.
"Don't mind him, he's just stressed because of moving in and the fact that he had to drive over the States just to get to Ishtar University," Michael explained as Kirks door closed.
"So, anyone else hungry enough to eat the pissy one?" Ronnie said, relieving the room of the tension that Kirk's explosion and moving in had caused.
"I'm game," Liam said as he headed toward the door, "just let me get my 'Pissy Bitch' killing sword."
The three boys laughed as they followed Liam to horm orm in yellow on the other side of their floor. The yellow dorm looked just like the blue one, except this one was covered in yellow paint.
"It's like being a banana," Ronnie said gray eyes wide open in shock as he stopped in his tracks.
"Scary, I'm out," Brian said backing up before Liam started back out from his room.
"What's wrong with the three of you?" Liam asked, giving his new friends an odd look.
"Your dorm is scary as a bitch," Michael said as he tried to calm his face.
"Pussy," Liam said under his breath as he pulled the three stunned boys out of his common dorm and back toward the elevators. "Let's just get some food, there's pizza place two blocks over that I went to a few time last year."
The other three boys fell out of their stupors as the thought of food passed through their minds, reminding them why they'd left the safety of their cell and saw the fright of Liam's. On the elevator, all three boys form blue let out breaths so hard, Liam's hair moved, a lot.
"Damn you guys are pussies," he said running his hands through his hair, putting it back in place.
"Shut up, Liam," Ronnie said smoothing his hair as the door opened on the second floor, Pailu came entered the large space, totting two other boys, also from green. They were also going out to lunch, so they decided to go in a big group and then return to Duzel Hall to eat.
The group of boys walked down the block, waving to other students they knew, inviting more people, girls now, to come back with them. By the time Liam, Michael, Brian and Ronnie made it back to blue, they had Pai, Greg and Vic from green in tow, and a group of girls Ronnie knew were also going up with them.
Back in blue, Kirk had come out from his funk and now sat playing fighting games against another boy who introduced to them as Adrian Scott, also known as Ryan. The large group of girls and boys hung out and partied all after noon, and late into the evening.
Around one the next morning, Brian and Ronnie were elected to go on another food run, so they left Duzel Hall with money in hand, and got into Ronnie's blue-black 2003 Liger and drove to a store for food. In the car Brian slumped against the leather upholstery sighing.
Ronnie looked over at his roommate, concerned, "Hey, Brian, what's wrong?"
"Hnn?" Brian asked looking at Ronnie through half lidded eyes, "Nothing, just a little tired from moving in staying up till one drinkin', y'know."
"I know just what you mean," Ronnie said running his hand through his free hair as they waited at a red light in silence. "Hey, can you go into the glove compartment to find me something to tie up my hair?" he asked as the light turned green and he pulled away.
"No prob," Brian replied digging through the glove box looking for a ribbon or scrunchie for his friend. "Found one," he said sitting up as Ronnie pulled into a 24hour grocer.
"Thanks dude," he replied pulling most of his bright hair out of his eyes with the scrunchie Brian had found. "Lets go, maybe we can get them drunk and they'll pass out."
"Don't life my spirits, you cruel, cruel boy," Brian joked as they started filling a shopping cart with chips beer and frozen pizzas. Paying for their food, the two returned to see what kind of mess their common room was in.
Back in the common room the boys saw that in their twenty minutes gone, the group had grown. There were another four girls there, and the other three boys from a different all altogether who hadn't been there earlier in the day. They two sighed as their dreams of getting any sleep before the sun rose were smashed. Steeling themselves, they walked back into the ruckus and presented the food with cheers.
Brian opened his eyes again, this time because Ronnie was there in the bed with him, sitting him across his lap to wake him to get something into him so he could take some medicine.
"So, do you think you slept long enough?" Ronnie asked, his red hair framing his face as Brian's green eyes focused on his face. "Your fevers gone down, but I don't think it's gone yet, I'll call Ryan and have him make some soup for you, that should help."
"Neh," Brian said reaching out and grabbing the bottom of Ronnie's shirt so keep the younger boy form leaving. "Don't go, stay with me."
Ronnie's gray eyes looked into Brian's green eyes, seeing the longing for comfort there, and returned to the bed, he sat back down on the bed and held his friend, petting his head again, like he had before. Brian relaxed back against Ronnie again, smelling his personal smell, a combination of his spice cologne and natural smells that reminded Brian of autumn and woods. Smiling Brian looked toward Ronnie's bright red clock to see it was already 7 that evening. Looking back up at Ronnie's face, Brian reached up a had to gently pass his hand over his roommates cheek, startling the other boy, who opened his eyes in surprise at the touch. Ronnie smiled down at the boy in his lap before gently kissing him on the lips, just a soft touch of their lips causing Brian pressed his lips back, just as gently telling his roommate that the feeling was mutual, that he loved him too.
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Long ass chapter, be happy. The next chapter is going to be from Ronnie's point of view, possibly of the day these two met, possible of another time they were together. I hope you enjoy this story that I worked so hard to write. A lot extra characters were introduced here, most with names will be floating back in later chapters, for one reason or another. If nothing happens in the next chapter, I'll try to get something into the third chapter, please be patient, something will happen to make it worthy of this rating and this site. Thanks to everybody who has visited, and reviewed.
D.I.
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Jasmine P.
For a little bit of backbone for the creation of this story and the characters here we go. I spent a whole mess of time during 9th grade reading yaoi and I spent the following summer riding to the Books-A-Million or Barnes & Noble on the other side of Reston. Other time that summer was spent being a pissy depressed kid, and writing. Sometime during ninth grade I started reading fanfiction and after a while I wrote some fanfiction, most notably are three things. One Hellsing story, based off the anime more so than the manga, of Seras' last night as a human. (I hope that's on my external...) I'd written a Gravitation song-fic that was a suicide song written by Shuichi and sung by Ryuichi at Shuichi and Yuuki's joint funeral. Not the best thing written. My final fanfic that I can remember cursing the internet with was one about Inuyasha where Kagome decides that she needs to live in the present instead of the past and tells Inuyasha she's not spending her summer in the Feudal Era, but instead in the present day. Inuyasha is of course angered by this and jumps through the well, gets stuck in the present day, and has to live out his summer with her. At some point they were going to have sex, I seriously can't remember when. Back in the Feudal era Sango and Miroku were gettin' it on at a hot spring alone, they left Shippou with Kaede.
After writing these stories, I decided I was tired of playing with someone else's characters. I was like 'I don't need all this background exposition to write smut' so I sat down and wrote one called' Lessons from My Mother' about this girl who's snooping through her mother's drawers and finds her vibrator and a milieu of other sex toys. Her mother comes home to gfind her snooping and proceedes to sexually punish her daughter. I had another story about twin brothers who arbitrailly go at it.
All that, those 5 stories and whatever else I never let see the light of day were all preperation for this story, this epic story about a guy who gives his self sexual amnesia to please his mother. At 15 I never thought about how big of a topic it was until I seriously got into writing it, and never finished it. It's a story that I think is important, and could work out. It needs to be re-written to pieces, but here are the first two chapters. Chapters 3 and 4 will be on their own just because chapter 4 is as long as it is. It's sad really, I stopped writing this just when the story was getting good and into it's drama and actually addressing everything that is hinted at.
Well, that was supposed to be shorter than it is, but it happens. I hope this doesn't make your eyes bleed too terribly.
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HE PLAYS FOR THE OTHER TEAM
DAISUKE ICHIGO
:Summary: The trials and tribulation of two college students as hey find out more about their true selves. Ronnie, the younger girlie-boy and Brian the older tan skinned mystery, together they learn a lot about themselves. (I suck as summaries, please don't hate?)
ROOMMATES
His tan skin. His smooth creamy tan skin underneath me, moving with me. I look into his emerald eyes as he looks up at me. His arms around my neck pulling me down into a warm kiss. Me moans my name "Ronnie, Ronnie, harder, push it harder. Deeper, make me come hard." I comply, he moans into my neck as I work to make us come. Speeding up I call his name, "Brian!"
Ronnie wakes up with a small muffled scream as he rolls over to look at his bed side clock. 1:47am shines back at him, bright red numbers in an otherwise dark room. "Shit," looking across the room he notices his roommate isn't there. "Good, at least if I was talking in my sleep, he wasn't here to hear me." Flopping back into bed Ronnie tries to banish the dream from his head as he falls back to sleep. As he slowly starts snoring, he this he hears the high squeal of their dorm door opening and then closing, no light shining in.
Ronnie wakes up the next morning, his body curled tightly into a ball, held close to warm body. Opening his eyes, he sees firm tan skin and feels the weight of an arm around him. Moving his head ever so slightly, he sees the innocent, sleeping face of the man he longed for in his dreams.
What the hell? Why is Brian over here? Aww shit, he must ave been drunk whenever he came in last night. Sighing before slowly shifting, Ronnie tries to get out of bed without waking the older man, and fails. Brian opens an unfocused emerald eye and brings the hand he had around Ronnie to his face to rub sleepily at his eye.
"Son of a bitch," he groans, opening both eyes and focusing his vision on the bare chested body in front of him. Hmm, what's wrong with this body? He thinks groggily following the muscle line up the neck to the face where he sees shock and mild fright on his roommates' face. Trying to focus on the face above him, Brian feels his stomach heave twice, painfully, before he rolls over and empties his stomach on the edge of the rug and onto the hardwood paneling under the bed. When his stomach is empty of all it had he dry heaves a few times before rolling back onto the bed, eyes unfocused as he looks up to the long haired figure above him. Smiling weakly he moans, "You were right Juliana," he moans with a small laugh, "I can't hold my liquor." Falling asleep, Brian moves to the warmth he thinks to be his sister and his breathing evens out, softly.
Ronnie carefully untangles himself from Brains painful grip as he looks at his clock. 8.52am glares at him, fighting to be seen in the bright sunlight behind the window. Having successfully untangled himself this time, without waking Brian, Ronnie leans over the bed to see what Brian hit as he puked. Crinkling his nose form the smell, Ronnie slowly crawls toward the foot of the bed to find a shirt and to get a mop. Dammit, why the hell did Brian have to puke all over my backpack? I swear, I'm gonna make him by me a new one, I don't have the money to get a new one my self. Cursing his roommates weak stomach, Ronnie goes to the fairly large common room and presses his thumb against a green pad on the wall next to a door across the room. The door opens, sliding up and he gets the mop and water bucket out so he can clean the mess.
Returning to his room, Ronnie gets to work, blessing whoever was watching over him that today was a Saturday, so he didn't have any classes to go to. Out loud he said, "You're lucky today's a Saturday, or your ass would have been dumped on the floor in this mess." Sighing as he thought about how he'd never do that, Ronnie returned the cleaning supplies before going to the communal bathroom used by the other three dorms in their block to was up before returning to his room, refreshed in body and spirit.
Back in his room, Ronnie saw Brian sitting up still in his bed, his short spiky brown hair sticking out in all directions. "Morning, Sunshine."
"Bah. Why the hell am I in your bed, and what's that god awful smell?" Brian asked one of his hands resting limply in his lap, the other holding his head as if the pain would split it apart as he looked around the room confused.
"You came in last night drunk as a fish," Ronnie said, digging through one of his drawers looking for a clan shirt. "Woke up about 45 minutes ago and up chucked to beat the band all over my backpack, which you are replacing, the rug, and some of the floor under my bed,." Settling an orange shirt that said 'It's a dog-eat-dog world out there and I plan on being full' He then pulled on the black jeans he's been wearing the day before and his sneakers on while sitting on Brian's bed. "I have no idea why you came to my bed, but I am royally pissed that you fucked up my bag. I'm going out to get you some antacids, so you don't do that again, and pain killers, because from experience, your head should be falling apart about now. Stay there, I'll be back in ten." Walking to the door, Ronnie made a right and pressed is thumb over another green sensor pad that opened a door to a short corridor.
Pressing to door to the elevator, Ronnie wondered just how long he'd be able to keep up his charade about not being in love with his roommate hae had been ecstatic when he saw Brian in his bed, with him, wondering if he'd gone there on purpose. Seeing the doors open, he said good morning to the two other boys in the elevator before stepping in, trying not to think about how much he liked having Brian's warmth next to him.
Brian sat up sluggishly, his arms feeling like lead weights, his head throbbing, and his stomach starting to wretch painfully again at the rancid smell reaching his nose. Hearing to door open, he looked up and saw Ronnie toweling his hair, walking back to their room in nothing but his boxers.
"Morning, Sunshine," Ronnie said after a small look of surprise crossed his face seeing his roommate up already.
Glaring at his roommate he growled, "Bah. Why the hell am I in your bed, and what's that god awful smell?" he asked turning his head as if that would help him find the culprit, and to stop, looking at his younger roommates exposed glistening flesh.
Letting the towel rest on his neck, Ronnie replied as he dug through his dresser for something, "You came in last night drunk as a fish. Woke up about 45 minutes ago and up chucked to beat the band all over my backpack, which you are replacing, the rug, and some of the floor under my bed." Brian looked at the bright shirt Ronnie put on thinking first about how it hurt is eyes, and then how good he looked in it. He watched as his roommate continued to get dressed as he spoke. "I have no idea why you came to my bed, but I am royally pissed that you fucked up my bag. I'm going out to get you some antacids, so you don't do that again, and pain killers because your head should be falling apart about now. Stay there, I'll be back in ten."
Brian watched as his roommate walked to the room, his eyes focused on the sexy ass that was half hiddeom vom view because of the jeans. Falling back on the bed dizzy, Brian rested one hand over his eyes as if to block out the morning sun as he dozed, wondering why the room suddenly felt to hot, rousing slightly when he heard Ronnie's voice rumbling to his ears from behind him, his hand gently passing through his hair as if to tame the wild spikes. He tried to focus on the words his roommate said, but the sounds eluded him as he leaned back heavily against the warmth behind him, feeling strong arms wrap around him, comforting him as he slept.
Ronnie came back to the room ten minutes later only to see that Brian had fallen back onto the bed, his breathing short, slightly erratic, as if he had a fever. Dropping the matioation and the food he'd brought to go with them on his bedside table, he quickly pulled off his shoes and shirt before sitting on the bed behind the sleeping boy, pulling Brian to sit in his lap.
"You foolish boy, you shouldn't be drinking when you're sick." He said softly, more to himself then to Brian. "I wonder what you did to make you drink so, you only do that when something's wrong. I've been your roommate since the beginning of September and now it's mid-November, so I should know you as well as I'd know anybody." Absentmindedly smoothing his hair, Ronnie felt Brian stir a little before settling again, still asleep. "Don't worry, you'll be fine. I'll protect you," he said wrapping his arms around Brian tighter before laying down with him, Brian's head nestled safely under his chin, their bodies pressed together, Ronnie hugging him from behind, as if he could pass his health along to the other boy.
Soon both of them were breathing deeply, the fall morning sun enveloping them in their quiet world of peace.
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A new story! Yippee!:: jumps for joy:: Brian and Ronnie will be having a bit of fun later on, but how much fun can you have with a sick person. ..please... don't any of you answer that. I don't want my fragile innocent (snicker) mind to be ruined.
Anyway, I'll be back soon. I'm not sure how long this is goinglastlast, but it will be interesting, I'll be posting chapter two soon. Please don't hate that it's short, I'm just building up for something longer and more interesting for later, hopefully, enjoy!
D. I.
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Chapter 2
HE PLAYS FOR THE OTHER TEAM
DAISUKE ICHIGO
:Summary: The trials and tribulation of two college students as hey find out more about their true selves. Ronnie, the younger girlie-boy and Brian the older tan skinned mystery, together they learn a lot about themselves. (I suck as summaries, please don't hate?)
Here's chapter two! Yippee! I hope y'alls enjoy this new story just as much as y'all enjoyed my last post! DI
FIRST MEETINGS
Brian woke up again, alone in Ronnie's bed with cool, damp cloth on his forehead. Looking up at the ceiling, he focused his attention on the posters his roommate had nailed up there, remembering the day they had met.
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Brian pressed his thumb against the identification pad to his building with his arms loaded with his computer for classes, and kicking a crate with CD's through the door. Setting the computer on top of the crate, Brian pushed up his wire rimmed glasses, looking for the elevators when somebody picked up his computer.
"Excuse me? What are you doing?" he asked the other boy, who was now holding the computer. This boy was wearing a black bandanna tied in the back of his head under the bangs of his shoulder length brown hair. He looked taller then Brian's 5'6", possible 6' 2", holding the computer like it was nothing.
"You looked as if you could use a little help. I'm Damien Leos, the RA, I'm just over there," Damien replied pointing to a hallway to their right.
"Okay, thanks. I'm Brian Grey, I live on the fourth floor in the blue cell," he replied picking up his CDs and following Damien to the elevators.
"I was in blue my first year, it's one of the nicer cells." Damien said as the elevator stopped to admit them on the first floor.
"Hey, wait, please hold the elevator," a voice called as a long red haired boy ran through the foyer of the dorm building, with a large blue duffle slung over his shoulder, a television somehow balanced in his hands. Brian pushed the 'door open' button for the boy, as he finished crossing the room. In the elevator the boy put his television down, but still held onto his bag. "Thank you for holding the door," he said as the doors closed.
"No problem, which floor are you on?" Damien asked as the elevator began to move.
"Four, I'm in blue, I've already been up a few times, but I didn't wan to wait for the other elevator, these things are so fucking slow." Looking at the two boys in front of him, the new boys' pale gray eyes carefully studied both of their faces, as if to commit them to memory. "I'm Ronald Kir III, but most people call me Ronnie."
"I'm Brian and thisDamiDamien, the RA." Brian said extending his had for the other boy to shake. "I'm also in cell blue."
"Nice to meet you, Ronnie," Damien said also shaking hands in greeting.
The boys continued talking, explaining where they had come from as they reached the fourth floor, second from the top, and made a right from the elevator to the blue cell. Damien pressed his thumb against the ID pad and the door opened, revealing a large living room, with light blue walls. There was a couch and television on the left of them, and a small kitchen area to their right. There were four doors spread out around the room, each with a number painted on the blue, in white paint.
"So, which room were you assigned?" Damien asked as Ronnie made his way across to room three.
"I was assigned to," Brian started as he balanced his computer in one hand, digging in his pocket for his assignment card, "room three."
"Cool, were roommates," Ronnie said as he opened the door to their room. The room had two twin bed on opposite sides of the room, the head boards facing opposite sides. There were two desks, one by the window , the other by the door, and a large double closet that had a divider in the middle to separate their clothes. The floor was wooden planked, and it had appeared that Ronnie had claimed one side of the room already, the left side, leaving the right side to Brian.
Damien put Brian's computer on the desk nearest to the door, "See ya guys, I gotta go."
"Bye, tanks for helping," Brian said dropping CDs on the floor by the desk. "Hey, Ronnie, would you mind helping me bring the rest of my stuff up here?"
"Sure, no problem." Ronnie said straightening form putting bag on the floor, next to the bed. "It's not going to take me long to unpack, so okay." In the hallway heading back to the elevator the boys chatted more about their families. "So, how old are you? When's your birthday?"
"May, 30th, I'm 20 right now," Brian replied as they rode back down the elevator. "You?"
"November 17th, I'm turning 20," Ronnie replied as they reached the ground floor and went to where Brian had left his car.
At the car the boys picked up more bags before they headed back up to their dorms. It took them three more trips to get the rest of Brian's stuff. On their last trip up stairs they passed another boy lugging three heave bags to their dorm building.
"Hey, you," Ronnie called slinging shifting his box of Brian's handwritten stories to resettle it more balanced, "do you need some help?"
"Me?" the boy with short, black hair asked turning to see who was questioning him. "Nah, I'm fine, but I might need some help getting in." he said blushing sheepishly.
"That's alright," Brian said balancing his box in one hand to press the ID pad. "which floor are you on?" the three walked into the dormitory.
"I'm on two, cell green, dorm 1," he replied heaving as he leaned against the elevator wall. "I'm Pailu Frank, most people call me Pai."
"Hi Pai, this is Brian and I'm Ronnie," he said indicating to each of them. "We're roommates on four, cell blue, dorm 3."
"I'll have to come up sometime," Pailu said as the elevator stopped on his floor. "Good luck this year," he waved as he dragged his stuff off the elevator, down a green hallway.
As the doors closed Ronnie sighed thinking about how hard his junior year was going to be. "So, I meant to ask this sooner, what's your major, it looks to be writing, but I could be wrong."
"I'm a screen and stage writer." Brian said tapping the box Ronnie had set at his feet. "In that box are some of my older plays." Brian smiled as a wave of nostalgia passed through him. "I used to be big, back in the day in that foreign place called high school. My major is in English, play-write to be exact, but I'm hoping to get my name in lights, somewhere. I plan on traveling if I don't do any good in the States." The elevator stopped on four, and they walked to blue. "What's you major?"
"I'm majoring in writing, novels not plays, and my minor is in acting." He replied as they walked into their common room only to find three other boys on the couch. "Yo," Ronnie waved.
"Hey, I'm Liam, Liam Elda." A tall lanky looking fellow said straightening from leaning over the back of the couch. Liam wore his light brown hair cut short, red on its tips as it spiked away in the back. "I'm in yellow, dorm 4, I was helping Mickey here, he's in dorm 1."
"Yo, I'm Michael Dower, like Liam said, I'm in 1." Michael was sitting on the couch, a box in his lap with controllers to a PS2 and game jewel cases. "Which rooms are you in?"
"Son of a bitch," a fairly high for guy's voice erupted from behind the television. A small, mousy frame emerged, his brown hair graying with dust, two electronic cords in his hands. Looking at the long-red haired boy and at the brown haired brunette he started blushing in embarrassment. "Sorry about the out burst, I'm Kirk, Kirk Magyar. Dorm 4, my roommate isn't here yet, but it's early, only 2," extending his hand, both Brian and Ronnie accepted introducing themselves.
Ditching Brian's stuff in their dorm, the boys went back out to the common room to see if they could help Kirk, Michael and Liam. Ronnie flopped into the comfortable sagging couch on Michaels right side, Brian on his left. "Hey, Mousy, Kirk, do you need any help?" Ronnie called correcting himself before Kirk could pull himself from the tangle of cords to glare at him.
Kirk huffed with exasperation, "I'm fine, but you'd think an electronic major could put together a simple video game system, it's like damn." Dropping the wires, Kirk backed up from his place behind the television, "Ronnie, Brian, can either of you put together a PS2?"
"I had one," Brian said getting backup and going behind the TV. "Somebody, turn on the TV and change the TV input," he ordered while he fiddled with the cords Kirk had dropped in disgust. The screen automatically changed to a dark picture with a floating memory card and game CD. "There, that was simple enough."
"Fuck you," Kirk said growling as he stalked off toward his room.
"Don't mind him, he's just stressed because of moving in and the fact that he had to drive over the States just to get to Ishtar University," Michael explained as Kirks door closed.
"So, anyone else hungry enough to eat the pissy one?" Ronnie said, relieving the room of the tension that Kirk's explosion and moving in had caused.
"I'm game," Liam said as he headed toward the door, "just let me get my 'Pissy Bitch' killing sword."
The three boys laughed as they followed Liam to horm orm in yellow on the other side of their floor. The yellow dorm looked just like the blue one, except this one was covered in yellow paint.
"It's like being a banana," Ronnie said gray eyes wide open in shock as he stopped in his tracks.
"Scary, I'm out," Brian said backing up before Liam started back out from his room.
"What's wrong with the three of you?" Liam asked, giving his new friends an odd look.
"Your dorm is scary as a bitch," Michael said as he tried to calm his face.
"Pussy," Liam said under his breath as he pulled the three stunned boys out of his common dorm and back toward the elevators. "Let's just get some food, there's pizza place two blocks over that I went to a few time last year."
The other three boys fell out of their stupors as the thought of food passed through their minds, reminding them why they'd left the safety of their cell and saw the fright of Liam's. On the elevator, all three boys form blue let out breaths so hard, Liam's hair moved, a lot.
"Damn you guys are pussies," he said running his hands through his hair, putting it back in place.
"Shut up, Liam," Ronnie said smoothing his hair as the door opened on the second floor, Pailu came entered the large space, totting two other boys, also from green. They were also going out to lunch, so they decided to go in a big group and then return to Duzel Hall to eat.
The group of boys walked down the block, waving to other students they knew, inviting more people, girls now, to come back with them. By the time Liam, Michael, Brian and Ronnie made it back to blue, they had Pai, Greg and Vic from green in tow, and a group of girls Ronnie knew were also going up with them.
Back in blue, Kirk had come out from his funk and now sat playing fighting games against another boy who introduced to them as Adrian Scott, also known as Ryan. The large group of girls and boys hung out and partied all after noon, and late into the evening.
Around one the next morning, Brian and Ronnie were elected to go on another food run, so they left Duzel Hall with money in hand, and got into Ronnie's blue-black 2003 Liger and drove to a store for food. In the car Brian slumped against the leather upholstery sighing.
Ronnie looked over at his roommate, concerned, "Hey, Brian, what's wrong?"
"Hnn?" Brian asked looking at Ronnie through half lidded eyes, "Nothing, just a little tired from moving in staying up till one drinkin', y'know."
"I know just what you mean," Ronnie said running his hand through his free hair as they waited at a red light in silence. "Hey, can you go into the glove compartment to find me something to tie up my hair?" he asked as the light turned green and he pulled away.
"No prob," Brian replied digging through the glove box looking for a ribbon or scrunchie for his friend. "Found one," he said sitting up as Ronnie pulled into a 24hour grocer.
"Thanks dude," he replied pulling most of his bright hair out of his eyes with the scrunchie Brian had found. "Lets go, maybe we can get them drunk and they'll pass out."
"Don't life my spirits, you cruel, cruel boy," Brian joked as they started filling a shopping cart with chips beer and frozen pizzas. Paying for their food, the two returned to see what kind of mess their common room was in.
Back in the common room the boys saw that in their twenty minutes gone, the group had grown. There were another four girls there, and the other three boys from a different all altogether who hadn't been there earlier in the day. They two sighed as their dreams of getting any sleep before the sun rose were smashed. Steeling themselves, they walked back into the ruckus and presented the food with cheers.
Brian opened his eyes again, this time because Ronnie was there in the bed with him, sitting him across his lap to wake him to get something into him so he could take some medicine.
"So, do you think you slept long enough?" Ronnie asked, his red hair framing his face as Brian's green eyes focused on his face. "Your fevers gone down, but I don't think it's gone yet, I'll call Ryan and have him make some soup for you, that should help."
"Neh," Brian said reaching out and grabbing the bottom of Ronnie's shirt so keep the younger boy form leaving. "Don't go, stay with me."
Ronnie's gray eyes looked into Brian's green eyes, seeing the longing for comfort there, and returned to the bed, he sat back down on the bed and held his friend, petting his head again, like he had before. Brian relaxed back against Ronnie again, smelling his personal smell, a combination of his spice cologne and natural smells that reminded Brian of autumn and woods. Smiling Brian looked toward Ronnie's bright red clock to see it was already 7 that evening. Looking back up at Ronnie's face, Brian reached up a had to gently pass his hand over his roommates cheek, startling the other boy, who opened his eyes in surprise at the touch. Ronnie smiled down at the boy in his lap before gently kissing him on the lips, just a soft touch of their lips causing Brian pressed his lips back, just as gently telling his roommate that the feeling was mutual, that he loved him too.
======
Long ass chapter, be happy. The next chapter is going to be from Ronnie's point of view, possibly of the day these two met, possible of another time they were together. I hope you enjoy this story that I worked so hard to write. A lot extra characters were introduced here, most with names will be floating back in later chapters, for one reason or another. If nothing happens in the next chapter, I'll try to get something into the third chapter, please be patient, something will happen to make it worthy of this rating and this site. Thanks to everybody who has visited, and reviewed.
D.I.
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Jasmine P.
February 16, 2009
Talent
I'm rubbing my back here for this, but my writing has time after time amazing and surprised me with just how well written things may be, or just how I say things.
The first time I noticed this was when I was proving some point for another and referenced my Flintstone Syndrome journal that I wrote last June or July. I was seriously stopped in my tracks when I read it. The writing surprised me because it was written at a level different from where I was. I mean, I know I'm a good writer, but I never re-read my work aside from a quick skim for major typos or grammatical brouhaha, but I never notice anything like this. I actually had to finish the journal just because I liked what I'd written so much.
I've been thinking about this for about a week off and on, and today I had another of those moments. It was one of those memes that's like '15 things about you' and i said "Death is the ultimate spoiler. Tell me how I'll die and I'll tell you how I'll live"
That just seemed like a poignant message. It was something written in the blink of an eye before, but now, it seems to have that much more weight to it. I don't know how, but I think it's an interesting display of my strength that I don't always feel. Seeing it so blatantly in front of my eyes, it's no wonder that I scare people. Now I seriously need to find someone who can compete with that strength. Match it as a perfect foil, keep it in check.
I dunno. I'm a mite distracted, and I got most of my point here. But this brings up another point of my journals. Some of them are incredibly unfullfilling because I end them when I lose focus. It's like running into a brick wall. But I also know that when I can't focus on them properly, the over all tone changes and then they become both a drag to read and a drag to write.
Anywho, I'll be back here...some other time. I finally have things to write, like about yesterday's tournament, but not now. I should start my paper before the night is over.
Jasmine P.
The first time I noticed this was when I was proving some point for another and referenced my Flintstone Syndrome journal that I wrote last June or July. I was seriously stopped in my tracks when I read it. The writing surprised me because it was written at a level different from where I was. I mean, I know I'm a good writer, but I never re-read my work aside from a quick skim for major typos or grammatical brouhaha, but I never notice anything like this. I actually had to finish the journal just because I liked what I'd written so much.
I've been thinking about this for about a week off and on, and today I had another of those moments. It was one of those memes that's like '15 things about you' and i said "Death is the ultimate spoiler. Tell me how I'll die and I'll tell you how I'll live"
That just seemed like a poignant message. It was something written in the blink of an eye before, but now, it seems to have that much more weight to it. I don't know how, but I think it's an interesting display of my strength that I don't always feel. Seeing it so blatantly in front of my eyes, it's no wonder that I scare people. Now I seriously need to find someone who can compete with that strength. Match it as a perfect foil, keep it in check.
I dunno. I'm a mite distracted, and I got most of my point here. But this brings up another point of my journals. Some of them are incredibly unfullfilling because I end them when I lose focus. It's like running into a brick wall. But I also know that when I can't focus on them properly, the over all tone changes and then they become both a drag to read and a drag to write.
Anywho, I'll be back here...some other time. I finally have things to write, like about yesterday's tournament, but not now. I should start my paper before the night is over.
Jasmine P.
September 14, 2008
Saturday
So, yesterday Za and I left campus so I could get my car inspected at this place that Glenn suggested and that's how we decided on an excuse for an adventure and lunch, then during lunch we decided to make this a monthly thing. But let's travel to yesterday morning.
She comes over and I make us breakfast because...I wanted bacon and I figured I could get rid of those last few eggs I had since they were really just going to sit there until I had another chance to cook them for someone else. Seriously. So we watch Psych then roll out onto Portsmouth and realize that the shop is closed on Saturdays. When backing out of the parking lot, I break my bumper by hitting a piece of scrap metal but it looks like the only thing that needs to be replaced is the bumper which makes things that much better, even thought they really aren't. So we're both a bit shaken up, Za more then myself, and we decide to explore down 64. We drive out to Pembroke Town Center then decide to more or less never go out there because it's too expensive to buy anything.
We're both hungry...again...and we're both jonesing for salad and decide to hit up the Unos on Military, so we get there and after driving through the parking lot a bit to actually get to the restaurant we have the best experience there, overall. Two dirty spoons were not enough to mar our day. We chat about our usual bull and wabout what had happened that day so far. But the experience at the restaurant has more or less made me forget about the bumper, thant and I think my escapist habits of not thinking about things that are bad so I can regain control of a situation and myself.
The experience is so nice because the restaurant is on the empty, it's between the lunch and dinner rush so it would be. I assume out waitress had just starter her shift so she's in moderately high spirits and we're polite, we've no reason not to be. But the thing is everyone's nice. A manager opens the door for us then when we're on our way out every employee tells us to have a good evening and another waiter holds the door open on our way out. We were floored, this was seriously my best experience at an Unos, and I've been to a few, though they were usually the same restaurant over and over again.
On the way back, still riding the good vibes we decide to go to the Naro rental and pick up Ghostbusters 1&2. On the way I start singing, partially to Za, mostly because it's fun. Driving down Hampton I'm making parodies of what we're listening to, and Za's amusement only encouraged me. One of them was to Junior Senior's Move Your Feet because I was in no mood to sit in traffic. So I was talking about wanting to speed, but it was silly, and she kept laughing so I made up one about Paula Deen killing everyone with butter.
Back in the apartment we watch Ghostbusters before CR calls inviting us over to watch The Sword in the Stone and Teeth. Teeth is fucking amazing, it's about this pure virginal girl who was born with vagina dentata, teeth in her vagina. But the problem is I'm in a goofy mood and none of us are taking anything seriously so we're making fun of this movie. The crabs were the best part. Mario Kart Wii is our next activity followed by my general makng fun of the staples of video games, then we're spicifically talking about Zelda.
Saturday started off slow, but ended up being awesome! And I'm making dinner tonight, so I need to get to the store and buy me some chicken soon...
Jasmine P.
She comes over and I make us breakfast because...I wanted bacon and I figured I could get rid of those last few eggs I had since they were really just going to sit there until I had another chance to cook them for someone else. Seriously. So we watch Psych then roll out onto Portsmouth and realize that the shop is closed on Saturdays. When backing out of the parking lot, I break my bumper by hitting a piece of scrap metal but it looks like the only thing that needs to be replaced is the bumper which makes things that much better, even thought they really aren't. So we're both a bit shaken up, Za more then myself, and we decide to explore down 64. We drive out to Pembroke Town Center then decide to more or less never go out there because it's too expensive to buy anything.
We're both hungry...again...and we're both jonesing for salad and decide to hit up the Unos on Military, so we get there and after driving through the parking lot a bit to actually get to the restaurant we have the best experience there, overall. Two dirty spoons were not enough to mar our day. We chat about our usual bull and wabout what had happened that day so far. But the experience at the restaurant has more or less made me forget about the bumper, thant and I think my escapist habits of not thinking about things that are bad so I can regain control of a situation and myself.
The experience is so nice because the restaurant is on the empty, it's between the lunch and dinner rush so it would be. I assume out waitress had just starter her shift so she's in moderately high spirits and we're polite, we've no reason not to be. But the thing is everyone's nice. A manager opens the door for us then when we're on our way out every employee tells us to have a good evening and another waiter holds the door open on our way out. We were floored, this was seriously my best experience at an Unos, and I've been to a few, though they were usually the same restaurant over and over again.
On the way back, still riding the good vibes we decide to go to the Naro rental and pick up Ghostbusters 1&2. On the way I start singing, partially to Za, mostly because it's fun. Driving down Hampton I'm making parodies of what we're listening to, and Za's amusement only encouraged me. One of them was to Junior Senior's Move Your Feet because I was in no mood to sit in traffic. So I was talking about wanting to speed, but it was silly, and she kept laughing so I made up one about Paula Deen killing everyone with butter.
Back in the apartment we watch Ghostbusters before CR calls inviting us over to watch The Sword in the Stone and Teeth. Teeth is fucking amazing, it's about this pure virginal girl who was born with vagina dentata, teeth in her vagina. But the problem is I'm in a goofy mood and none of us are taking anything seriously so we're making fun of this movie. The crabs were the best part. Mario Kart Wii is our next activity followed by my general makng fun of the staples of video games, then we're spicifically talking about Zelda.
Saturday started off slow, but ended up being awesome! And I'm making dinner tonight, so I need to get to the store and buy me some chicken soon...
Jasmine P.
August 9, 2008
Fucked Up Future Babies
I think that if television and movies and other forms of entertainment continue to follow the trends that the Baby-Boomers are leading us towards that our entertainment will start to retard and become infantile.
What I mean is that with the biggest movie and television companies they're omitting things that people do because they consider it to be marketing of negative habits or traits that children will hone in on and replicate. They're slowing getting rid of smoking in tv shows and in movies, so people don't smoke, but when you walk down the street, through and amusement park, a regular park, people are smoking. It's what they do. My mom smoked, that never really made me want to try smoking, and it's my lungs and decision. I understood it wasn't something one did until 18, and it fucks you up so why do it? The addiction. Okay, whatever, that's your M.O.They're getting rid of things that people just do because they're pessimistic thinkers in how impressionable children are. If they're taught properly to do or not to do something they will or won't do it. If they watch things geared toward their age group, they're also less likely to bear witness to something 'harmful'.
I also think it's quite idiotic that that Disney is going to retroactively ruin so many of their movies be omitting cigarettes and smoking. That's an integral habit to that character, or the stereotype the character represents. The father, Darling I think his name was, from 101 Dalmatians smoked like a chimney the night the puppies were born, so they're removing his cigarettes. Cruella just plain smoked like a chimney and if I remember right the other characters reacted to her throwing ashes all around from her cigarettes and what not. I know they own the right and the property, but there is still artistic integrity to not change something so long after the fact. When the cartoon was made, it's what people did. People smoked. They gave away cigars when their babies were born. Or re-rating it by the MPAA. Why?
With the trend in making the world 'child safe' I don't see things boding well for mainstream entertainment. I think once they've gotten that nasty little smoking habit kicked from TV, and movies, they'll go after drinking if they're still in power. I think that with the degradation that seems to be going on will last for another 5-15 years until whatever our generation is. Y or whatever bull shit they decided to name us. I think that when those of us who were born to the liberal stoner parents or that generation, the 70s and 80s babies. We're in our 20s and 30s now and we look at the changes going on in TV and think it's a waste. There are signs of a culture. I'd rather not see the only smoking in movies in stoner flicks, they're not all bad, but what about a post coital fag every now and again. It's what people do!
I hope that when the babies of 80s/90s babies are born that the 70s/80s adults will be in control of the movie companies and such so that television will show realer people being real. People smoke, they drink, they fuck. I swear, they're going to also remove instances of pre-maraital sex from movies and such probable in an attempt to get kids to not have sex randomly. It happens, it's always happened and it will continue to happen. Where things are going, people want to protect their children from the world. You have to let them experience things, let them experience life and learn what really happens in life. I'd rather have a kid that knew too much than one that knew too little. Too little knowledge of the real world and there will be severe culture shock.
If I become a parent, my children will learn just how bloody history was. They will have the opportunity to see violent, perverse movies and television, I will find someway to get a DVD player once we move onto something more futuristic. I will explain just why on TV people sit in all white rooms and talk about the weather and not about the news. My kids will have the opportunity to experience the same things I have. I'll hold onto my books so my kids have the chance to read some hard hitting literature, some idiotic literature, some violent literature, intelligent everything I own. We're moving closer to a Fahrenheit 451 dystopic future that needs to be stopped.
When I say 'book' I mean paper. Fuck digital books. Maybe I'm just a bibliophile, or a romantic, but it's not the same to read digital print. There's something about the scent of ink on paper. There's something about actually seeing a different font in a book something that's sans serfs [aparently serfs are important for letter recognition] Hell, it's cozier to hold a book than a cold piece of hardware with a million books downloaded. It's nice to sit in a library and to have hundreds of books up on the walls.
All in all, this was written over the course of an hour , in between surfing the net. It's quite unusual I was able to maintain focus every time I came back, but it's equally unusual that I didn't just bust this out all in one go. But my point is if things keep going at the rate they're going and where they're going, the children of the future will end up being bigger pansies than we were as children, and don't fucking deny that you weren't a pansy. Look at the shit that kids had during the middle ages, or hell, even the early 20th century. So grim and gruesome, but they were fine. There was smoking and drinking everywhere and they were fine, so why not now and into the future. People say they do things for the children to protect them, but it's more for their twisted, idiotic lives. They don't want their kids to fear the things they feared so they don't want them to experience it, but that only makes things worse, delaying the inevitable. Let them grow up with it and they'll be fine. They'll be better adjusted to life outside America if they know of the violence and the harsh reality of reality.
Jasmine P.
July 21, 2008
Being A Blogger
I guess this is technically a blog. It's on Blogger, but I don't quite consider myself a 'blogger' these are more often streams of consciousness that no one reads and I'm fine with the fact that maybe a friend or two of mine reads this. I don't really want or need people responding other than people who know me. I put this out here on the internet for myself. I catalog my life here so my friends can read about what happens when we're not together, but also so people have the opportunity to figure out why I may be acting differently from my own norm.
I was reading the August Wired and they had this article about this chick, Julia Allison or whatever the fuck her last name is, and how this woman aggressively pimps everything. She pimps her Twitter, her blogs, her vlogs, everything about her life. She lives for the attention. I don't. I barely want attention from people I know at times, like from Mikey or Santos at the USBG. Their intense interest in me is quite odd and disquieting at times.
To me, someone who fits the mantel of a 'blogger' is someone who puts their everything out there and people respond. People they don't know. I get no responses here. This journal has been up since September 2007, and i've never gotten a single response, but I do know people have been here. My profile pageview counter is somewhere around 30, and I know of t least one person who reads this periodically.
This is a stream of consciousness that I maintain for myself. I would rather have ten years of anonymity than one hour of celebrialtiy online because tis is for me. If necessary, I'll make another blog for more 'public' affairs. Like how I wanted a separate Flikr for my fencing photos, but it's apparently one account per e-mail, I may make that other e-mail just for those photos. Hell, it would sit there and collect spam, just so I could keep my personal photos separate from my club's photos.
Different facets of my life get different attention. My private and public stay separate. For the most part, they conjoin with me. What's funny is I think you could start on one end of my various websites and following links to damn near every other site, not that I have that many that are active.
I guess this was more about my personal life and keeping it private than about being a blogger, unless both concepts go hand in hand. I mean, being a blogger is about choosing aspects of your personal life to put online, aspects of your opinion about things in life that you're going to put online. I choose to put my mind here for others to try to comprehend. I don't always understand what I put here, but I do know it's important to me. if not, why write it?
This one went in circles. Worse than usual. Interesting, my stream of consciousness. Or is it dull? I've been told it's interesting. I wouldn't know. I almost never read my own writing.
Jasmine P.
I was reading the August Wired and they had this article about this chick, Julia Allison or whatever the fuck her last name is, and how this woman aggressively pimps everything. She pimps her Twitter, her blogs, her vlogs, everything about her life. She lives for the attention. I don't. I barely want attention from people I know at times, like from Mikey or Santos at the USBG. Their intense interest in me is quite odd and disquieting at times.
To me, someone who fits the mantel of a 'blogger' is someone who puts their everything out there and people respond. People they don't know. I get no responses here. This journal has been up since September 2007, and i've never gotten a single response, but I do know people have been here. My profile pageview counter is somewhere around 30, and I know of t least one person who reads this periodically.
This is a stream of consciousness that I maintain for myself. I would rather have ten years of anonymity than one hour of celebrialtiy online because tis is for me. If necessary, I'll make another blog for more 'public' affairs. Like how I wanted a separate Flikr for my fencing photos, but it's apparently one account per e-mail, I may make that other e-mail just for those photos. Hell, it would sit there and collect spam, just so I could keep my personal photos separate from my club's photos.
Different facets of my life get different attention. My private and public stay separate. For the most part, they conjoin with me. What's funny is I think you could start on one end of my various websites and following links to damn near every other site, not that I have that many that are active.
I guess this was more about my personal life and keeping it private than about being a blogger, unless both concepts go hand in hand. I mean, being a blogger is about choosing aspects of your personal life to put online, aspects of your opinion about things in life that you're going to put online. I choose to put my mind here for others to try to comprehend. I don't always understand what I put here, but I do know it's important to me. if not, why write it?
This one went in circles. Worse than usual. Interesting, my stream of consciousness. Or is it dull? I've been told it's interesting. I wouldn't know. I almost never read my own writing.
Jasmine P.
June 26, 2008
Movies
Okay, since I'm obsessing over KKBB and movies at the moment this is well timed.
Firstly, I love movie commentary. If I buy my camera [and I will, dammit!] whatever movies I make will feature commentary, mine and Za's since she'll probably be in half of what I make, and whoever else wants to comment on my videos.
Commentary is fun, it tells a lot about the behind the scenes of a movie and if there is character/actor commentary and not just director and writer commentary, it's even better. Actor commentary is the most fun because they're usually incredibly vain, or their general reaction to their fellow actor's performances. You learn a lot about the actors themselves and they just enhance the fun of the movie.
One of my other things about movies are how much fun is sounds like the actors have on set. The jokes and such. I guess it's the same general bullshit that happens between me and my friends, but it just sounds like so much fun, and for it to be on video, that's like a second bit of awesome and amazing because all that shit you say off the top of your head, you can hear it again later and it just plain sounds like fun.
Over on facebook my status says/said I wanted a youthifier. Actually, I want the Youthifier 2.0, the 1.0 version only lasted 1 minute before the 2.0 was created, but there is a reason for this. It's quite annoying to adore an actor who's old enough you be your father, but part of the charm of an actor is their age, their intellect, so a Youthifier make them younger than they are, but leaves their mind, their mentality, their intellect where it is for their age which helps them you keep their awesome, part of it at least.
The first Youthifier was a doorway, one way through de-ages the person. The Youthifier 2.0 is a gun instead of a doorway, so you point and shoot, causing the physicality of their body to get younger.
Regretfully this is only for flings. A few hours hanging out. Truthfully, I wouldn't want long term interaction, but for a while it would be quite fun, but they have the right to be as awesome and sexy as always, so they must be returned at some point, so I'd need an Ager to return things back to normal.
Okay, so I'm watching Batman at the moment, but my question is why does the Riddler give Batman clues to foil him? I mean, it's like Superman telling Lex Luther 'Hi, just so you know, whenever you decide to kick my ass just surround me in Kryptonite <3'>
New question, how the fuck does Batman just know 64 squared off the top of his head? [4096, if you're curious] Don't ask why I'm so hyper critical at the moment, but what I'm saying is true. If the Riddler really wanted Gordon to die, or whatever, he wouldn't have brought Batman back.
Back to the jaw thing, cap him in his face. I mean they catch him and tie him up all the time, but never manage to kill him. Batman had living chess long before Harry Potter did.
So, back to the whole movie thing, well, the Youthifier first. It'd be fun, but then again I've also said I'd be fine with just a general conversation with various celebrities. The Youthifier would be for...something else. Not too dirty, but it would be nice. Less guilty for making out and the like. But seriously, a conversation would be fun, I'd even let them ask the questions. Let them know what they would about me instead of me knowing what I would about them. Unless they wanted to just tell me about every aspect of their lives that I would think of questioning.
The whole inspiration for the Youthifier came from waking up this morning and trying to not feel guilty about feeling attracted to someone twice my age. Then I decided to make them my age and I figured out how. The Youthifier, a doorway to making them my age, but keeping their mind and everything they know that makes them sexy.
After logically thinking that getting someone to walk through a random fuck doorway and not walking through with them it needed an upgrade into something a lot more logical to be using, so I made it into a gun instead. The Youthifier 2.0. At some point there may be a 3.0, but I don't know. I kind of want to draw it in action, too bad I can't draw real people with the skill it requires for them to look like whoever I'm trying to draw.
I had some other movie obsessiveness, but Batman distracted me, and now I can't remember what else I was going to say. But still, 'yay' for sexy actors. Wow, this is more something like I'd post in LJ, this gets to go to LJ anyway. Fuck it
Adios for now
:salute and bow:
Jasmine P.
Firstly, I love movie commentary. If I buy my camera [and I will, dammit!] whatever movies I make will feature commentary, mine and Za's since she'll probably be in half of what I make, and whoever else wants to comment on my videos.
Commentary is fun, it tells a lot about the behind the scenes of a movie and if there is character/actor commentary and not just director and writer commentary, it's even better. Actor commentary is the most fun because they're usually incredibly vain, or their general reaction to their fellow actor's performances. You learn a lot about the actors themselves and they just enhance the fun of the movie.
One of my other things about movies are how much fun is sounds like the actors have on set. The jokes and such. I guess it's the same general bullshit that happens between me and my friends, but it just sounds like so much fun, and for it to be on video, that's like a second bit of awesome and amazing because all that shit you say off the top of your head, you can hear it again later and it just plain sounds like fun.
Over on facebook my status says/said I wanted a youthifier. Actually, I want the Youthifier 2.0, the 1.0 version only lasted 1 minute before the 2.0 was created, but there is a reason for this. It's quite annoying to adore an actor who's old enough you be your father, but part of the charm of an actor is their age, their intellect, so a Youthifier make them younger than they are, but leaves their mind, their mentality, their intellect where it is for their age which helps them you keep their awesome, part of it at least.
The first Youthifier was a doorway, one way through de-ages the person. The Youthifier 2.0 is a gun instead of a doorway, so you point and shoot, causing the physicality of their body to get younger.
Regretfully this is only for flings. A few hours hanging out. Truthfully, I wouldn't want long term interaction, but for a while it would be quite fun, but they have the right to be as awesome and sexy as always, so they must be returned at some point, so I'd need an Ager to return things back to normal.
Okay, so I'm watching Batman at the moment, but my question is why does the Riddler give Batman clues to foil him? I mean, it's like Superman telling Lex Luther 'Hi, just so you know, whenever you decide to kick my ass just surround me in Kryptonite <3'>
New question, how the fuck does Batman just know 64 squared off the top of his head? [4096, if you're curious] Don't ask why I'm so hyper critical at the moment, but what I'm saying is true. If the Riddler really wanted Gordon to die, or whatever, he wouldn't have brought Batman back.
Back to the jaw thing, cap him in his face. I mean they catch him and tie him up all the time, but never manage to kill him. Batman had living chess long before Harry Potter did.
So, back to the whole movie thing, well, the Youthifier first. It'd be fun, but then again I've also said I'd be fine with just a general conversation with various celebrities. The Youthifier would be for...something else. Not too dirty, but it would be nice. Less guilty for making out and the like. But seriously, a conversation would be fun, I'd even let them ask the questions. Let them know what they would about me instead of me knowing what I would about them. Unless they wanted to just tell me about every aspect of their lives that I would think of questioning.
The whole inspiration for the Youthifier came from waking up this morning and trying to not feel guilty about feeling attracted to someone twice my age. Then I decided to make them my age and I figured out how. The Youthifier, a doorway to making them my age, but keeping their mind and everything they know that makes them sexy.
After logically thinking that getting someone to walk through a random fuck doorway and not walking through with them it needed an upgrade into something a lot more logical to be using, so I made it into a gun instead. The Youthifier 2.0. At some point there may be a 3.0, but I don't know. I kind of want to draw it in action, too bad I can't draw real people with the skill it requires for them to look like whoever I'm trying to draw.
I had some other movie obsessiveness, but Batman distracted me, and now I can't remember what else I was going to say. But still, 'yay' for sexy actors. Wow, this is more something like I'd post in LJ, this gets to go to LJ anyway. Fuck it
Adios for now
:salute and bow:
Jasmine P.
June 20, 2008
Flintstone Syndrome
I'm sure Holllywerid has some other name for this, but that is a common enough reference point for what I'm brining up this morning [it being 1.22 am as of starting this]
What I'm talking about is how the hell do fat bastards like Homer Simpson, Peter Griffin, Fred Flintstone and Barney Rubble, to name a few, end up marrying intelligent enough and attractive enough women suck as Marge, Lois, Wilma and Betty? Those women are frigging MILFs and you know it. They still have figures and brains after getting married and after three kids in some cases they shouldn't sitll have.
But my point is what the fuck is Hollyweird, Hanna-Barberra, Fox etc, saying about women? Everybody knows they want somebody attractive, and I understand there are more than one sort of attractive, but some of these are real long shorts. My inspiration and true complaint comes from an article on Yahoo news about unlikely couples in these summer movies and older movies.
http://movies.yahoo.com/summer-movies/The-Love-Guru/1809932977/photos/370/9621/#info
What I'm saying is, yes, I want a fun guy who's great to hang out with and blahddy-blahddy-blah, but why can't he be attractive? What is this saying about the choices women in movie land have with picking someone to marry. These guys are jobless losers who get into serious relationships or even marriage with a brillient bombshell of a woman who chances are probably wouldn't all look at these guys.
I'm not trying ot shoot down the Average Joes of the world, I'm just asking Hollywood to make a realistic movie whee the leading lady and the leading man are of some sort of equal status of wealth and intelligence. I know not every ugly person is married to another ugly person and that not every stupid person is married to another stupid person, but give me a bit of reality every now and again.
My argument goes both ways for ugly women getting with gorgeous men, but I can't think of that one happening too often. What I'm also tired of is seeing every 50+ actor marrying/fucking ever 22 year old actress [and vice versa]. If two characters have an age difference, keep the actors in line with that too because sometimes it gets weird to listen to commentary and hear that some actress or actor grew up watching somebody they admired as a kid and now they're in a sexual relationship with "them" due to the parts they play.
I'm not saying there aren't actors old enough to be my father that I don't think are attractive [there are plenty of them.] but that doesn't mean that if I ever get eh chance ot meet them that I'd want to fuck them, or act like I was. Part of what makes them alluring is their age and their talent. Yes, I think they're attractive, but no, I'd never want to date them for many reasons other than the fact that they're fucking old enough to be my parent. There are also actors around my age whom I find attractive, but at this moment they don't have the presence that age and skill births. In twenty years when I'm married they'll possibly inhabit the same qualities I find attractive about actors of the same age right now, but that's an issue for the future.
May looping arguement says this. Match characters realistically and hapilly with characters from their social ranks. If you're going to have a lovable loser, match them with some sort of bohemian. Have the girl next door grow up to be a bombshell of a woman who marries someone who is just as pretty and intelligent as she is, have them be happy.
I'm not saying don't stir the waters every now and again, but staying within the realms of reality every now and again also help the self esteem of regular people and their dream of finding a realistic love and not just a fantasy. Those of you reading this know me well enough to know that I love and live outside of this reality and have no issue with accepting things that aren't 'normal' but I also appreciate the reality in a situation, the possibility that It's not all that long of a shot for something to happen.
Oh yeah, the initial point of this is what are these movies saying about a woman's ability to choose a successful mate? I understand people want to all live in a fairytale happy ending with someone who's fun and women want ti be in charge of the relationship, but sometimes they need someone who has more then they do to lean on.
Other notable movies and tv shows that showcase the Flintstone Syndrome as far as I can remember are: The Honeymooners, Love & Sex, As Good As It Gets, Something New, etc. There are a million others out there, but I can't list half of 'em. Too tired, too late. But think about it: in many romantic comedies the brilliant/rich lead falls in love with a lovable/poor loser. It doesn't always happen like that, so why in Hollyfake? I know movies are a serious source of escapism from the realities of life but why everyone? [i have my own arguments for others medias that showcase this habit or similar habits, but that's for another note/journal of it's own]
[1.52am]
Adios for now
:salute and bow:
Jasmine P.
What I'm talking about is how the hell do fat bastards like Homer Simpson, Peter Griffin, Fred Flintstone and Barney Rubble, to name a few, end up marrying intelligent enough and attractive enough women suck as Marge, Lois, Wilma and Betty? Those women are frigging MILFs and you know it. They still have figures and brains after getting married and after three kids in some cases they shouldn't sitll have.
But my point is what the fuck is Hollyweird, Hanna-Barberra, Fox etc, saying about women? Everybody knows they want somebody attractive, and I understand there are more than one sort of attractive, but some of these are real long shorts. My inspiration and true complaint comes from an article on Yahoo news about unlikely couples in these summer movies and older movies.
http://movies.yahoo.com/summer-movies/The-Love-Guru/1809932977/photos/370/9621/#info
What I'm saying is, yes, I want a fun guy who's great to hang out with and blahddy-blahddy-blah, but why can't he be attractive? What is this saying about the choices women in movie land have with picking someone to marry. These guys are jobless losers who get into serious relationships or even marriage with a brillient bombshell of a woman who chances are probably wouldn't all look at these guys.
I'm not trying ot shoot down the Average Joes of the world, I'm just asking Hollywood to make a realistic movie whee the leading lady and the leading man are of some sort of equal status of wealth and intelligence. I know not every ugly person is married to another ugly person and that not every stupid person is married to another stupid person, but give me a bit of reality every now and again.
My argument goes both ways for ugly women getting with gorgeous men, but I can't think of that one happening too often. What I'm also tired of is seeing every 50+ actor marrying/fucking ever 22 year old actress [and vice versa]. If two characters have an age difference, keep the actors in line with that too because sometimes it gets weird to listen to commentary and hear that some actress or actor grew up watching somebody they admired as a kid and now they're in a sexual relationship with "them" due to the parts they play.
I'm not saying there aren't actors old enough to be my father that I don't think are attractive [there are plenty of them.] but that doesn't mean that if I ever get eh chance ot meet them that I'd want to fuck them, or act like I was. Part of what makes them alluring is their age and their talent. Yes, I think they're attractive, but no, I'd never want to date them for many reasons other than the fact that they're fucking old enough to be my parent. There are also actors around my age whom I find attractive, but at this moment they don't have the presence that age and skill births. In twenty years when I'm married they'll possibly inhabit the same qualities I find attractive about actors of the same age right now, but that's an issue for the future.
May looping arguement says this. Match characters realistically and hapilly with characters from their social ranks. If you're going to have a lovable loser, match them with some sort of bohemian. Have the girl next door grow up to be a bombshell of a woman who marries someone who is just as pretty and intelligent as she is, have them be happy.
I'm not saying don't stir the waters every now and again, but staying within the realms of reality every now and again also help the self esteem of regular people and their dream of finding a realistic love and not just a fantasy. Those of you reading this know me well enough to know that I love and live outside of this reality and have no issue with accepting things that aren't 'normal' but I also appreciate the reality in a situation, the possibility that It's not all that long of a shot for something to happen.
Oh yeah, the initial point of this is what are these movies saying about a woman's ability to choose a successful mate? I understand people want to all live in a fairytale happy ending with someone who's fun and women want ti be in charge of the relationship, but sometimes they need someone who has more then they do to lean on.
Other notable movies and tv shows that showcase the Flintstone Syndrome as far as I can remember are: The Honeymooners, Love & Sex, As Good As It Gets, Something New, etc. There are a million others out there, but I can't list half of 'em. Too tired, too late. But think about it: in many romantic comedies the brilliant/rich lead falls in love with a lovable/poor loser. It doesn't always happen like that, so why in Hollyfake? I know movies are a serious source of escapism from the realities of life but why everyone? [i have my own arguments for others medias that showcase this habit or similar habits, but that's for another note/journal of it's own]
[1.52am]
Adios for now
:salute and bow:
Jasmine P.
June 6, 2008
Two Halves of Something Broken
Two Halves of a Whole.
Something broken, this is actually at a perspective, so the smaller piece is smaller on purpose. But there is a purpose to this.
My point is, I'm tired of my social situation changing so drastically every time it does. I'm tired of rebounding back and forth from being independent to being dependent on others. I can stand on my own, and I can lean on another's shoulder, but I'm tired of being forced to do one or the other over and over again. Every time I learn to live with myself I'm thrown into a situation where there are others who tolerate and accept me. I'm around people who don't ask anything other than me. They they let me trust them, until we're forced apart, then I'm alone and have forgotten how to deal with anything anymore.
There's nothing wrong with my desire for stability, so why don't I have any? Have I don't something to be punished to not be allowed to have any real consistent presence in my life that I trust and whom trusts me. This person doesn't even need to be a boyfriend, a significant other. They just need to be reliable. I need someone to be reliable when we're together and when we're apart.
Is it weird that when I'm alone I'm both incredibly solitary, not wanting to be anywhere near nor around others, but I'm also quite clingy, wanted to be near certain people? That's why I am the way I am when I can finally be not alone anymore. I'm like a man in the desert who'se come across and oasis. I lavish in the attention I can now get and give. I'm a selfish son of a bitch so my receiving and giving of attention in a weird way involve my sharing my new artwork with people. I like hearing from others that my work is good. That doesn't quite mean much because none of them draw. But that doesn't mean I don't not like hearing it. I love giving attention to others in my own obsessive way. I love giving attention in a physical manner, hugging, touching or in general being around some one else, others. That's how I give attention when I don't always listen properly. I focus, observe watch. That's how I give attention, that's how I give as much as and what I get.
My broken heart is cause by many people. Too many to list here, too many to list for myself. IT's quote sad though that Just about every one I know can be put on that list from one time or another. There is also a reason why I go off on my own when I'm upset. It forces me to think about the situation and it forces me to find a way to fix it. How can I fix something that I didn't break? Something that isn't tangible? Something that is left subject to others to socialize with? What happens is not under my own control, but it's under the control of those around me and it's taken so many 'hits' over the years that everything is an injury on top of a bleeding wound. Nothing is getting better and I don't know how much more I can take before it all collapses. I need something stronger and more consistent that my own strength. One day I'll just cave in on myself under my own weaknesses and I won't be strong enough to get out on my own. Maybe by that day My needed strength will be near and they'll be able to help me out when I won't want to help myself.
I can only pray for that day.
Jasmine P.
June 2, 2008
Pure Friggin Sex!
After finishing Iron Man: Beneath The Armor and learning that Adi Granov designed the suit that the Mark 3 in the movie is based off of, and now finding his art online, all I can say is that it's all pure sex and full of awesome and amazing and I can't stare at it or drool enough. Timeto save some references, and some of these images are large enough to be wallpapers. Gold! Sex! Amazing! I'm in love with his art, And Phil Saunders did an amazing job transcribing Granov's style for the movie. Seeing how everything is put together and comes apart is something that's I've wanted to see, and I think this knowledge will help in my my future pursuits of designing my own red-and-gold. I mostly want to just try my hand at it, since it's not really in my realm of style and design this is going to be pretty damn tricky, but I do like my head and mask designs that I've doodled out so far, so from here is the rest of the body. I might just have to do this in parts, try turn arounds for the parts then see what I can do from there. I also think I might try asking Saunders for his advice or tips for drawing such a technological suit.
Before I forget this, What I like about Adi's Armor is that it's not extra stream lined. There are part that come out, everything can not be contained within the outline. There is the muscle line, then there are the weapons that move outside of the outline. Everything for the most part is streamlined, but there is also a slew of gorgeous detail on everything that makes me want to touch the page to feel the texture. The grainy aspect that the suit has is also strong and excellent. It's not a smooth coloring, but a rough feeling of everything that is there. There is a tangible quality to the images that I can't get enough of.
Now, after that milieu of praise for Adi's designs and Phil's recreations, here are some links for future reference of all that is awesome ...in relation to this post.
http://conceptart.org/forums/showthread.php?p=1756452
http://conceptart.org/forums/showthread.php?t=124921
http://philsaunders.blogspot.com/
Adios for now
:salute and bow:
Jasmine P.
Before I forget this, What I like about Adi's Armor is that it's not extra stream lined. There are part that come out, everything can not be contained within the outline. There is the muscle line, then there are the weapons that move outside of the outline. Everything for the most part is streamlined, but there is also a slew of gorgeous detail on everything that makes me want to touch the page to feel the texture. The grainy aspect that the suit has is also strong and excellent. It's not a smooth coloring, but a rough feeling of everything that is there. There is a tangible quality to the images that I can't get enough of.
Now, after that milieu of praise for Adi's designs and Phil's recreations, here are some links for future reference of all that is awesome ...in relation to this post.
http://conceptart.org/forums/showthread.php?p=1756452
http://conceptart.org/forums/showthread.php?t=124921
http://philsaunders.blogspot.com/
Adios for now
:salute and bow:
Jasmine P.
December 14, 2007
make them hear you
I can't think of a better title, but this works sine this is nothign more than a few rambling thoughts.
So, last night with everyone was fun. Raving Rabids was more fun than I'd thought it would be. Hanging out with everyone held my depression at bay. I didn't realize that fact until I was going to bed at about 2 this morning and I had no real desire to sleep. I'd thought I was done, but I'm just keeping it all at bay only just barely. I need this shit to end. I'm just so fuck tired of it all. Not living, I've no real qualms with life, but I do have issues with this depression, and at the moment I don't want to be alone. Heh, my usual complaint, 'I don't want to be alone' or 'I don't trust myself to be alone'
Heh, 'Make Them Hear You' by the Black Eyed Peas, I can't make anyone hear me. Damn this depression to hell. I'm just glad I've got enough sense to try to fight it. I just keep loosing the damn fight. Hmm, I think that since today is my last day down here I deserve one last drink from Borjo....maybe a red-eye. I mean, i haven't had one of those in about a month. The problem isn't today though, it's going to be tomorrow when I'm crashing like a two year old behind the wheel on 95. But that's beside the point... I'll decide when I get there. I think maybe I should write. Problem is I don't know who to write about. I'd also rather not create any more characters, the 70, 80 some I have at the moment are out there enough to last me a life time...
I think it's time for a round of phone tag as I try to find someone or something to hold my attention for the next two hours. Later days.
Adios for now
:salute and bow:
Jasmine P.
So, last night with everyone was fun. Raving Rabids was more fun than I'd thought it would be. Hanging out with everyone held my depression at bay. I didn't realize that fact until I was going to bed at about 2 this morning and I had no real desire to sleep. I'd thought I was done, but I'm just keeping it all at bay only just barely. I need this shit to end. I'm just so fuck tired of it all. Not living, I've no real qualms with life, but I do have issues with this depression, and at the moment I don't want to be alone. Heh, my usual complaint, 'I don't want to be alone' or 'I don't trust myself to be alone'
Heh, 'Make Them Hear You' by the Black Eyed Peas, I can't make anyone hear me. Damn this depression to hell. I'm just glad I've got enough sense to try to fight it. I just keep loosing the damn fight. Hmm, I think that since today is my last day down here I deserve one last drink from Borjo....maybe a red-eye. I mean, i haven't had one of those in about a month. The problem isn't today though, it's going to be tomorrow when I'm crashing like a two year old behind the wheel on 95. But that's beside the point... I'll decide when I get there. I think maybe I should write. Problem is I don't know who to write about. I'd also rather not create any more characters, the 70, 80 some I have at the moment are out there enough to last me a life time...
I think it's time for a round of phone tag as I try to find someone or something to hold my attention for the next two hours. Later days.
Adios for now
:salute and bow:
Jasmine P.
December 4, 2007
'About Me'
It is impossible to fit all that makes a person into 1000 words or less. There is so much about a person that change change from one little non-interaction, such as seeing someone they have an interest in one day, or their not seeing that person. I know my mind is out there any time I see those guys who can catch my eye long enough to make me try to fine a way to talk to them. Anyting can change a person, even simple non-interactions like that.
As I think about some of the things that make up 'me' this was going to be all super epic over on facebook, but i stopped before it got too far along so I'm writing it for here.
'I just am. The details change depending on the mood, how morose I can be to how hyper crazy, to how romantic. I've never been much of a girlie-girl though, that's never changed.'
I am a lover of many things. Food, socializing, entertainment, conversation, deep thinker movies and conversation. There is too much to me to put into words to describe for those people out there on the Internet to be able to handle reading. It would be an epic tale about the highlights of my life and personality that's a hefty tale. Not because of embellishments, but trying to fit in all the things that I don't tell people, but are displayed during conversation and interaction.
Part of this is I don't casually touch people until I know and trust them. Until I've figured out what's allowed, just how much distance and in what ways do I do things. When I meet people, there is a trial period that can last from ten minutes to a few days or weeks as I figure out just how far I can go with them so I know how I can act and which parts of my personality to exhibit. There are some times when I need to be at a certain comfort level with people before I'll playfully mess around with them. Touching them, their hair, face, just plain contact in some cases. It's not always as deep as it seems, but there are some people who I don't know how they'd respond to casual contact as simple as a hug. I never realized how much I like hugging people or having someone to get a hug from because before I always had my mom and I never thought about it. Now I have people to get hugs from or who I don't mind hugging. Things like this are like how I confide in people, I never give it much pre-thought but I just know these sorts of things.
But back to describing me. I am a romantic. Even thought I over think my own relationships and have often concluded that I probably will over think it if I ever have someone, I am a romantic. I do like a bit of fluff in my movies every once in a while. I do want love, I want someone to love and to make it known that they care. I want comfortable platonic love too. I don't mean anything wild like 'friends with benefits' but a shoulder I can lean on. Someone I can go to damn near whenever and know I can tell them anything.
I am a dirty minded bastard. It's how I was raised. I don't have bad morals, just a greater acceptance for the things that society normally perceives as wrong. I mean, I was somewhere round about 6th grade when I saw 'Real Sex' on HBO, I had no issue with it. It actually made me laugh. I find porn amusing because the situations that lead up to the sex are usually incredibly goofy. I've said this to people before, but seriously, the generic type of introduction that I've see to a few different porns was 'A stay at home wife/mother gets a delivery, then decides to fuck the deliver man' but then there was the series from Showtime where the story lines were almost always 'This couple is having relationship issues and decided to get away for a weekend to reignite the flame of their passion' I mean, crap like this is just so ridiculous that it's like 'how is this cock-and-bull story still being written. I can totally see where a friend of mine is coming from when they say that they can't really watch porn because there is so little character development [ie none] that they can't really focus and get into the story. As for me being dirty minded, I don't care about hearing about people going at it, the numbers or the genders involved because at the end of the day it makes me laugh. I don't quite know why I find it so amusing, but I do.
What makes me. I think about the way I think about other people and when I go to describe people I pick out the most distinctive physical features then the next thing I think about is how I can 'see' their personality in the things they do. When I describe people, the physical is first, but the...
[contemplation to be finished at a future time]
-continued-
...but then I go on to describe personality attributes about people because of how I relate personalities to people they become tangible. It's kind of amusing, but it also makes describing other people somewhat interesting...
On my cleanliness...or often lack there of, I like to think I live in organized chaos. I think because of my creativity and artistic habits, and the fact that I don't usually don't think in conventional patterns, then I am better suited to have things not quite in normal order. I think that I try to live externally they way I live internally, sometimes.
I think this is a topic I'll need to come back to, I'm not quite inspired to dewll on myself too much more at the moment. I'll finish this train of thought, or continue down this track or a similar one some time in the future. Adios
Adios for now
:salute and bow:
Jasmine P.
As I think about some of the things that make up 'me' this was going to be all super epic over on facebook, but i stopped before it got too far along so I'm writing it for here.
'I just am. The details change depending on the mood, how morose I can be to how hyper crazy, to how romantic. I've never been much of a girlie-girl though, that's never changed.'
I am a lover of many things. Food, socializing, entertainment, conversation, deep thinker movies and conversation. There is too much to me to put into words to describe for those people out there on the Internet to be able to handle reading. It would be an epic tale about the highlights of my life and personality that's a hefty tale. Not because of embellishments, but trying to fit in all the things that I don't tell people, but are displayed during conversation and interaction.
Part of this is I don't casually touch people until I know and trust them. Until I've figured out what's allowed, just how much distance and in what ways do I do things. When I meet people, there is a trial period that can last from ten minutes to a few days or weeks as I figure out just how far I can go with them so I know how I can act and which parts of my personality to exhibit. There are some times when I need to be at a certain comfort level with people before I'll playfully mess around with them. Touching them, their hair, face, just plain contact in some cases. It's not always as deep as it seems, but there are some people who I don't know how they'd respond to casual contact as simple as a hug. I never realized how much I like hugging people or having someone to get a hug from because before I always had my mom and I never thought about it. Now I have people to get hugs from or who I don't mind hugging. Things like this are like how I confide in people, I never give it much pre-thought but I just know these sorts of things.
But back to describing me. I am a romantic. Even thought I over think my own relationships and have often concluded that I probably will over think it if I ever have someone, I am a romantic. I do like a bit of fluff in my movies every once in a while. I do want love, I want someone to love and to make it known that they care. I want comfortable platonic love too. I don't mean anything wild like 'friends with benefits' but a shoulder I can lean on. Someone I can go to damn near whenever and know I can tell them anything.
I am a dirty minded bastard. It's how I was raised. I don't have bad morals, just a greater acceptance for the things that society normally perceives as wrong. I mean, I was somewhere round about 6th grade when I saw 'Real Sex' on HBO, I had no issue with it. It actually made me laugh. I find porn amusing because the situations that lead up to the sex are usually incredibly goofy. I've said this to people before, but seriously, the generic type of introduction that I've see to a few different porns was 'A stay at home wife/mother gets a delivery, then decides to fuck the deliver man' but then there was the series from Showtime where the story lines were almost always 'This couple is having relationship issues and decided to get away for a weekend to reignite the flame of their passion' I mean, crap like this is just so ridiculous that it's like 'how is this cock-and-bull story still being written. I can totally see where a friend of mine is coming from when they say that they can't really watch porn because there is so little character development [ie none] that they can't really focus and get into the story. As for me being dirty minded, I don't care about hearing about people going at it, the numbers or the genders involved because at the end of the day it makes me laugh. I don't quite know why I find it so amusing, but I do.
What makes me. I think about the way I think about other people and when I go to describe people I pick out the most distinctive physical features then the next thing I think about is how I can 'see' their personality in the things they do. When I describe people, the physical is first, but the...
[contemplation to be finished at a future time]
-continued-
...but then I go on to describe personality attributes about people because of how I relate personalities to people they become tangible. It's kind of amusing, but it also makes describing other people somewhat interesting...
On my cleanliness...or often lack there of, I like to think I live in organized chaos. I think because of my creativity and artistic habits, and the fact that I don't usually don't think in conventional patterns, then I am better suited to have things not quite in normal order. I think that I try to live externally they way I live internally, sometimes.
I think this is a topic I'll need to come back to, I'm not quite inspired to dewll on myself too much more at the moment. I'll finish this train of thought, or continue down this track or a similar one some time in the future. Adios
Adios for now
:salute and bow:
Jasmine P.
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