(︶︹︺)

you

2010-04-20T05:13:00.000-07:00

You will never be the same person that you are now.

You cannot go back to the you from five months ago. Or the you from five minutes ago.

Shut up.

yes. yes, you should just die

2010-03-14T04:12:00.000-07:00

Hey, blog. We haven't seen each other in a while. I've been... studying. And stuff.

But then some dumb bitch on Facebook really inspired me to write something. I've written this before, or something along the lines of what I'll be writing now, but I guess I just feel the compulsion, so deal with it.

Um, basically, I'm tired. I'm tired of school, homework. People not respecting my opinions and views. I'm tired of being angry. I'm tired of being tired and making promises to myself that I won't keep. I'm tired of backstabbing people, and hating you.

BUT, you really piss me off.

Your Tumblr says: 'I guess it’s not even that I really can’t do these things, and more like I feel I can’t out of fear of reality crushing down on me. Stupid insecurities.'

Well, I say: Damn, bitch. Kill yourself. You? Insecure? I'm scared of standing next to a fucking bus stop, because someone might throw me in front of the traffic. But you, insecure? No, really?

I just feel that you, your Facebook, Tumblr, Formspring, is just a contradiction.

Why can't people just be themselves? Their happy, non-depressed selves? Isn't that cool anymore?

Come on people.

And I totally support emo bashing. I think it should be a sport.

By the way, if you are fake depressed (you know who you are), and fit the 'BAWWWW, STEREOTYPE' of an emo, get the fuck off my blog. Don't contact me. Go away. Kill yourself.

Anyway, let me break it down for you.

Your boyfriend is a loser with BO.
Your hair colour is painful to look at.
Stop being so self-involved, you fucking emo narcissist (I know, what the fuck).

exhaust fumes

2010-02-16T23:36:00.000-08:00

I feel so emotionally drained.

I just thought you all needed to know.

I don't know, it's just been such a fucking long day. I just broke down in the library in front of everyone.

And sorry for not updating in a while.

writing lets me breathe

2010-02-05T22:43:00.000-08:00

I have a file on my computer. It is on Word.

It has well over 50,000 words.

I like writing, because sometimes, it's easier than talking. I spit out insults that I had to hold back. I can scream and not make a noise.

That's the only reason I have this document still. I like to concentrate on the lives of the people who I write about, sometimes more than my own, because I can select the aspects of my life that I can include in that place.

It's a shame I can't bring that to life.

I create people that inspire me.

When I started writing this, there was a completely different reason, but that is not relevant anymore. Because times change. People change. And so the meanings and usages of Word documents, started of as a bit of a joke between friends.

That 'diary' or journal, of a completely different person to myself contains more of me than any one piece of text.

It liberates me.

What about you? Do you do anything that makes you feel like part of everything again? Where do you scream the things that you can't say?

fuck you, you ruined my day

2010-02-01T00:02:00.000-08:00

Today was my first day of actual lessons at a new school.

I was determined to make this a fucking good day. I was going to meet a friend at Barr Smith Library, hang out and piss off Uni students. I did all that. I made some new friends there. I bitched about a dumb whore to some pretty cool people from my previous school.

And then I went to lesson.

Where I sat between two fatties. 'Cause I got ditched.

If I lean either way, I would be able to smell their BO (lean to right, fat boy. Lean to left, fat girl). If I sat in the middle (I had no choice, they both just sort of assaulted me with their presence), I could smell both of them. My teacher, Robert, announced that we'll have to sit in the same places for the next couple of weeks.

Bitch, please.

History was boring.

I took a bus home. On the bus, I meet some whore from my old school. She goes, 'Are you Katya?'.

As I am walking home, some retard in a car attempts to chat me up. I stare at him. He probably hasn't showered in 3 years. It looks like his face is a black hole, slowly sucking in his face. Like a downer, or something.

I have low tolerance for weird hobos going, 'Heyyyyy, come in my car'.

I leave, and my day is ruined.

Fuck you all.

his coma

2009-12-28T02:29:00.000-08:00

I didn't write this, and it is slightly tl;dr, but if you have an interest in psychology and know the basic storyline of the Pokemon animated series, particularly the beginning (with Ash running late the day he and several others were choosing their starter Pokemon), then this is definitely worth reading.

It is fascinating and makes complete sense, which isn't something I was expecting when I started reading the article.

Did one ever know the reason why the pacing and story development change after Ash was hit by lightning in the beginning episodes? How Ash and his world were relatively normal until after the incident?

I have a theory.

The accident with the bike put Ash in a coma. Days later he was found and was hurried to the hospital and treated with heavy medications. This is why Team Rocket became less menacing. The medication took effect and stabilized his coma dreams, instead of being terrifying, they became idyllic, and he's able to live out his Pokémon master fantasies.

If one had noticed, the early episodes of Pokémon were of amazing quality. The rest of the series is just the results of his subconscious mind fulfilling his desires, as well as attempting to escape them. Should Ash realize he's in a coma, he would wake up, but suffer brain damage. So he has to take down all his mental barriers one by one until he can come to grips with what he is and escape his coma.

This explains why he doesn't change much physically. Also, the worldwide socialism can be explained if you once again realize that this is a dream world; he thought up a safe system of government that would run smoothly and keeps the world going allowing his adventures to work like they do. It also explains a few other things, such as how a child can go off on his own in a world full of dangerous untamed animals, and why every Pokémon center has the same exact nurse. Joy and Jenny he knew from his hometown, and they act as a safety net or anchor, allowing him to feel safe no matter where he goes. The professors, like the Joy's and Jenny's represent stability, and Ash's ideals. This is why Gary became a professor. It's also the reason that every time he enters a new region, virtually no one has heard of him, despite his conquests, and why Giovanni leads Team Rocket. How could Paul, the rival of the Sinnoh area, not know of someone who has placed in at least the top 16 of all three leagues and has destroyed the Orange league and Battle Frontier?

Ash’s traveling partners are actually aspects of himself he can enjoy, but doesn't like to associate with himself. Team Rocket are his qualities that he deems ‘negative’, but is coming to terms with. Jesse and James want to appease Giovanni, Ash's Father. Meowth especially wants to appease him because he remembers the good times with Giovanni. This Places Meowth in a category known as Ash's (corrupted) innocence, and another fragment of Ash's humanity. If you note that Meowth can speak this quickly becomes apparent. In fact the whole reason for Meowth's speech is so he can help Ash accept Team Rocket as part of himself eventually.

Brock is Ash's repressed sexuality. He fell into the coma a virgin and needed an outlet for his growing sexual frustrations. Since he can never experience sex, Brock must never succeed. Brock is a projection of his sexuality, and is constantly shot down, because Ash could never ‘know’ sex. Brock isn't just Ash's latent sexuality, he's also his fatherly instincts, neither of which Ash can come to terms with. Brock leaves his siblings to ‘journey’ with Ash. Because Ash can't cope with having that much responsibility, much as his foray with a real relationship ends on mysterious terms. Ash just cannot handle commitment at his mental level. Brock's Stay with professor Ivy was an attempt to outright suppress his sexuality. You'll notice that James got much more dialogue in this part of the series, as well as getting more touchy feel-y with his Pokemon and getting most of his back-story. Ash didn't enjoy this much; hence the reason Brock comes back all horrified, and refuses to speak about it. (Ash's subconscious was repressing him at the time, so other than a general feeling of dread he has no idea of what went on then.) This is also why Brock keeps coming back to the series... Usually AFTER Ash meets a new girl aspect of himself. Misty is an image that Ash had of a girl. This is why she plays so prevalently in the series but is ultimately unattainable because he never really knew her before the coma. Likely the one that helped get him to a hospital. I have a theory in line with this: Since Misty was his initial love interest (if only subconsciously), he needed her to reach a level of womanhood. He felt that people could only have relationships when they've matured. But in practice, it turned out he couldn't cope with it and just wanted the normal, pushy, arrogant Misty he knew, and wouldn't let her keep Togepi anymore.

Misty is Ash's first attempt at a girl he could love, however, being a girl from the real world, all he really he knew of her was her anger, as a result she ended up quite hot headed in his mind. Constantly berating his sexuality, but eventually mellowing out until she had faded into the background. This was also traumatizing to him, being attached to it. Since then, the thought of anyone around him maturing to adulthood has been blocked, and anyone who shows signs of it will quickly end up leaving for another, more naive fill-in.

Max came with May, she played the kid with great aspirations, and he played the sensible ego that ‘session’. They worked for a little while but Ash, being a teenager, eventually had his sexuality had to come back into play. He kept reinventing himself and eventually wrote new aspects, but his mind slowly brought back the old ones as a crutch to make the transition easier.

Dawn is Ash giving himself a chance to love. Since he already established Misty as someone he's not likely to go anywhere with, he created a new super female, one that was more like him, and less violent all the time. (One will note that both May and Misty had no tolerance for Brock whatsoever whereas Dawn seems to try and shrug it off.) .

Tracey, The Breeder was a possible future for Ash that he discarded. It was one that he sent off to work with the Professor (the Professors being Ash's ultimate ideal of a father figure) when he disrupted the dynamic Ash had with his other possibilities. Ash's mind is fighting the coma and since Ash viewed this one as a companion he was quickly replaced with a more threatening Rival.
Pikachu obviously represents Ash's humanity, hence the episodes where they get separated, and Ash wants desperately to find him, even to the point of working with the rockets (aspects of himself he would never normally associate with) but for some reason cannot. They want to steal Pikachu (Ash’s humanity) and hand it over to his father, Giovanni. Jesse and James will always oppose Ash because Ash is terrified of the thought of his humanity lying in the hands of his father. However this is the same reason that he will work with those aspects of himself in order to save his humanity from just becoming flat out LOST. He couldn't evolve his Pikachu without challenging his concept of who he was, something he wasn't comfortable with while he was still working through his original issues.

Another thing is the narrator. The narrator is Ash's higher mind, recapping and explaining the progress he's made and the tribulations he will face allowing itself insight into how best to awaken him.

Ash has issues with his Father; so he put him atop the evil corporation, and demonized him. There may be an actual Team Rocket, and I'm positive they're quite dastardly, but I doubt that Ash's father is their leader; in fact the head of the rockets wasn't really identified as anyone until later on in the series. The split between Ash's parents was likely over Ash's homosexuality and some sort of incident as a catalyst, forcing his father to disown him and his mother to move out of the city and down to pallet town. This is why Giovanni runs the faceless vile corporation, and why he Berates Jesse, James, and Meowth as much as he does, and why they keep trying to please him. Another thing to notice is the difference in uniform, the rockets Wear Black and Red, where Team Rocket wears white... a symbol of their purity and naiveté. They're willing to please father despite his utter hatred of those parts of Ash.

Team Rocket are aspects of Ash's personality that he has deemed ‘bad’. James’ implied homosexuality and Jesse’s vanity. You'll remember that Meowth has the potential for rehabilitation, and doesn't want to be evil, so yet again this fits in with the conflicting personalities and demonized self theory. Team Rocket started cross-dressing because Ash had to come to terms with that part of himself. It was something he was able to allow his gay/vain side to experiment with (and by virtue of that himself) When he found that it wasn't something for him, his ‘free’ side stopped playing with it. Further, their methods of capture become more and more ludicrous (and physically impossible) because Ash is just a kid dreaming these things up. This is the reason Team Rocket's disguises are always believed. He knows it's them (on some level), but chooses to ignore it, so he can better himself, in a sense the Ash who wants to escape is sabotaging the Ash who wants to stay lost in his mind. So that there can be more conflict, and hopefully an eventual escape. The filler episodes that don't focus on Ash and the gang are his mind working through, and humanizing the parts of himself that he demonized. It's a way for him to deal with issues that Ash and crew wouldn't touch, because it involves treading ground he himself had sworn not to go near. As I said, Team Rocket and the episodes they occupy are Ash dealing with ground he feels uncomfortable with tackling on his own. Jessie is Ash's vanity and gullibility, she will trick Ash's submissive homosexuality into doing her bidding so she can please father. James' troubled childhood is his way of justifying his latent homosexuality. Now James is Ash's latent homosexuality, hence why he is constantly punished by Pokémon and attacked by random attractive girls. I believe the split between Ash's parents was caused by this part of Ash, maybe an incident at school, bringing shame on the family and forcing them to move to the small, country town of Pallet. Ash's motivations for his journey were to escape mounting pressure at home.

So in a way, Ash IS Team Rocket. The rest of the whole organization Including Butch and Cassidy is symbolic of his inability to escape his father's machinations.

Mr. Mime is actually a stand in for Ash's father, one that can't emotionally abuse him or his mom. He is a Pokémon, a peace loving creature that's oddly humanoid, but that can never hurt a human. Ash's was never really hurt by a Pokémon, so he sees them all as harmless; whereas, in the real world they may be quite feral or vicious (as seen in the early episodes). Again falling back to the theory that the only real Pokémon are the ones from the first season, and everything else is just further speculation coming from his mind on what new species would look like.

The new Teams (Magma, Aqua, and Galactic) are Ash attempting to work out the problems he has with his father. To do that he first needs a new ‘bad guy’ to feel good about beating, and if Giovanni isn't leading a criminal organization he can more easily relate to him.

If one recalls, there were real animals early in the show and references to animals in the game and show. For example, a clear case to point out is the aquarium of fish in the Cerulean City Gym or that by the Pokédex that Pikachu is a ‘rat-like’ Pokémon. But they don't matter to Ash's psyche so they don't come into play much. If Ash had loved puppies, everything would be about different breeds of dogs, and a dog fighting circuit. But, as the series goes on longer, we've been seeing less realistic animals and more Pokémon. This could be a sign of Ash’s mind deteriorating. As he's in this coma, he's losing concepts of some animals and machinery and replacing them with Pokémon. It could explain things like electric Pokémon working as power generators. A sign that his memory of the old world is slipping more and more as time goes by. The Pokémon realm will be idealized continuously the longer he has no stimulus from the real world. He may or may not be mentally deteriorating, but he is becoming more accustomed to his fake world's rules. The wild Pokémon are his rationalizations of the functioning of the world. It’s the ‘a wizard did it’ syndrome. If he doesn't know how it works, his mind says Pokémon. He justifies anything he can't explain with Pokémon, and real animals fall into the background because he has no real interest in them.

The Pokémon in Ash's team are his issues, for example Charmander represents his sex drive (not his sexuality like Brock) at first it's a cute easy to control thing, but eventually becomes a raging inferno of disobedience. Acquiring his team means getting at his issues, but as he trains them, he works said issues out. Other trainers are more direct forms of his issues, ones that he must either come to terms with or outright suppress. Gym leaders are more primary aspects of his personality with each Pokémon being stronger than the last, to display a level of skill he could be capable of if only he gave into it. In effect, he is doing battle with a part of him that he would rather not have in control. Bulbasaur was Ash's unwillingness to change, this is reflected when it declines to evolve and how it almost decided to stay behind unless he battled it. Squirtle was his willingness to follow the lead of others, as evidenced by the gang it ran with, even though he ran the gang, they were viewed as one group, and Ash's subconscious just gave him the strongest one. Butterfree was his crushing loneliness, which he dealt with when he released it to join a flock. His bird types are his recklessness, always willing to sacrifice something at a moment's notice for the win. When Ash is trading Pokémon, it's an attempt to push his own problems away on someone else; however, he realizes this and usually trades back fairly quickly. Originally Ash had the battles, which evolved into team battles and contests. The explanation for this is that his issues became more and more complicated, and the means of dealing with them needed to become more complex. The fact that he uses issues that he has already dominated to win these are signs that he's growing stronger.

Not only are Ash’s Pokémon are a manifestation of different parts of himself, so are Pokémon of other trainers as well. Koffing and Ekans were symbolic of Team Rocket's willingness to change; hence, their evolutions. Once his mind beat that roadblock down and allowed them to change once, it gives him the chance to truly change. Pupitar is a rationalization, a Pokémon that a rival caught before he met him. Even Ash would become suspicious if everyone he met had no carry-over from pervious places he had been to.

Ash releases his Pokémon because his mind is forcing him to let go of them. The second he raises an overpowered team, a tournament comes up, and after fighting his way through it he has to go to a new land for new challenges, but with an overpowered team, there won't be any challenges, and no way to motivate him further, part of Ash wants to stay in the coma, and keep journeying.
Ash's travelling also never really nets him any fame, no matter what he does, or where he goes, and the answer for that is simple. Ash just can't picture himself as famous, so he essentially adopts a new identity every few months.

The reason he never truly becomes a master is because that would mean he'd have nothing left to dream, and would wake up from his coma. Ash’s dual personality is one that wants to maintain his fantasy world and slowly sort his thoughts out carefully. The other part wants freedom, and to return to his real life, to finally become a real Pokémon master. However if he's allowed to keep his powerful team there's no reason to meet and tame new Pokémon(Issues), he'll lose interest, and the chance of becoming self-aware comes around again. So it's not that he gives them up, it's that he loses them, and unless he's desperate (such as with Charizard) he can't get them back. It’s basically his mind forcing him to deal with his issues. It would also be a good reason why Paul has shown up at this point, and Ash has been forced to work with him on at least one occasion: It's his mind's last ditch efforts to snap him out of this, to force Ash to actually come to terms that this perfect world is not the best option and he needs to wake up. Paul is Ash's dark side, one that wants to push on even harder and harder, and the part of him that will stop at nothing to escape this coma world.

Ash’s rivals and the Elite four are ultimately the strongest part of this cycle. Having Pokémon that are essentially godlike, they represent both what can be attained and what is unattainable. Gary Oak is what Ash wants to be. He is wish fulfillment. He succeeded, and settled down to a normal life. Ash needs someone to succeed in his world or he won't be able to validate it and will start questioning why he's where he is. It’s a subconscious trap to keep him from becoming too aware of his situation. His mind must have figured out that awareness of the coma would snap him out of it, but it would cause major brain damage, so it took something the boy already loved and built a way out for him with it. However Ash is too complacent to finally fight his way out of it, and cannot escape. This is why he keeps encountering Legendary Pokémon, they're his mind's way of showing him he can do great things if he tries, and it's a way to encourage him to push forwards. The Legendary Pokémon are Ash's mind telling him that he has greatness in him and thus, can escape his happy–go–lucky reality.

Ash's Rivals are all possible futures he envisions for himself (note that they are all older than him). This originated with Gary Oak, someone Ash knew from real life, and built up into a sort of god within his mind. Gary however progressed and changed to suit Ash's vision of himself and ultimate desire, eventually settling down into a professor after beating the Elite Four. With Gary in retirement his mind needed a new rival for him Thus the births of Richie (the Good aspect of his rivalry) and Paul (as the darker aspect, a cut-throat Ash, willing to do anything to escape the coma world).

Richie and his Pikachu were another success story for Ash, but he wanted one he could be closer with. One nearly identical to him. One that even used a similar roster to him. Paul and his Chimchar are the polar opposite of Richie, Paul wants nothing to do with any kind of weakness, and is almost aware of his situation. He's always pushing for something more.

The reason he discarded his original hat and the elements of Japanese culture so prevalent in the first season is simple. He wanted to travel and broaden his horizons, every time he reinvented himself to do so; he lost touch with his original self. If he ever does escape the coma he'll likely have achieved a sort of Zen state. Considering the amount of personal issues he deals with inside his head, it's entirely likely that he was the next Buddha of the Pokémon world, and that the lightning strike and subsequent coma are a way for him to realize his true self, and destiny.
Mewtwo was a new form of treatment, done with electric impulses and a machine to knock Ash out of it, taking down every last one of his mental guards (the original Pokémon in the movie). In Ash's mind, Mewtwo and his clones were the treatment for the mental safe guards that were protecting Ash and keeping him comatose; the Pokémon of his world. The clones were counters to Ash's mental safeties, and so each appeared to Ash as the exact copy of his defense, intended to take it down by Force. The clones didn't play by the rules of Ash's world, they didn't use any special Pokémon attacks or moves – they just beat down their counterpart by brute strength. The treatment was working, but there were side effects. The electric jolts were beginning to affect Ash's nervous system, and if the treatment continued, he would be paralyzed. His mind realized this and manifested it to Ash by petrifying him in his dream. Were it not for the end of the treatment by Ash's mother (knowing her son would never want to live in a world he couldn’t explore) Ash would have remained as stone in his dream. After this, Ash needed to recover from the damage of the electric therapy. Obviously it was greatly dangerous to him, and in order to reduce the danger Ash's consciousness felt from it, Ash's subconscious began downplaying the effects of electricity in Ash's world, which is why Pikachu’s electric attacks -once noted for their strength by Team Rocket – no longer have any effect on Ash, other than comic relief.

Even the world Ash lives in evidences this. The sprawling forests and eco friendly cities are all his childish innocence. He never travels on a bike despite the distance due to the accident having given him a phobia of them.

As one could see, it is very likely that Ash is trapped in his world. But like every dream, everything, there is a beginning and an end. What would happen if Ash could fully recover? What would happen if he never does? There are infinite branches of possibilities that spiral upwards and intertwine towards the top at a single point, both in his ‘world’ and the real world. In his hospital room, we see Delia, obviously distraught talking to a doctor with a grim look in his eye. He's saying that their insurance is up, and the boy has had no change in brain activity for seven years. That a shock like this may awaken him. She tearfully agrees.

Professor Oak is there to comfort her as they take Ash off life support.

In Ash’s ‘world’.

Ash has finally defeated the elite four, and one by one the people around him start disappearing. Eventually everything is black. Pikachu comes dashing towards him glowing brighter and brighter in the darkness. Eventually Pikachu reaches Ash and the two embrace one last time.
Back in his room, as his life signs fade, Ash mutters his genuine, final words.

I... want... to... be,
The... very... best.

The image of his gaunt, tube-fed, bed-ridden body on the bed. His head appears bulbous from atrophy. As he utters his last words, he barely opens his eyes, seeing a silhouette of the figure at the center of his turbulent emotions, his mother, her face obstructed by her hands wiping away tears. He makes contact with her eyes and lets out one last tear before losing all strength. She breaks down in hysterics.

The worst part of all this is that Ash will die, never having experienced actual love, imagine if you will, having lived in a world like his, completely shut off from all things but yourself, and your perception of yourself, with nothing but better yourself. No other people to interact with and issues to solve with no guiding hand.

The boy will die, never having known his dream, except as naught but a dream. The second he gets out into reality for that last moment, part of him knows it was all a lie, his faithful Pikachu? His friends? All his imagination, and maybe, he could have fought and clung to life, maybe even made a full recovery. But knowing that his efforts and ambitions had all been for naught, he just gave up and let the motion carry him away, just so he could be with Pikachu, in a place where his friends were waiting.

I would like to think that he'll realize that his mother loved him and was holding out hope that he'd recover all that time. On the flip side, though, when he sees her he knows that the hope she had is totally broken and she'd come to the crushing realization that the worst thing that can befall a parent has happened to her: outliving her only child. At once he knows he is loved and that it means that the one closest to him is utterly crushed.

Still, there are other possibilities. The fountain of time flows in mysterious ways. One could not go back, against the current such as Gatsby; but, one could never see what is waiting for him downstream. Ash finally defeats Lance, only to be confronted by not Gary Oak, but a mute, mirror image of himself.

The voice of the narrator speaks to him, telling him that now he can finally escape the prison of his own mind. One by one, his friends appear and melt away into more copies of him, all cheering him on. After a long tough battle against himself with the assistance of all of his Pokémon he had ever befriended, he jolts awake.

In his hospital room he sees his parents asleep; he finds himself unable to speak.

Ash pushes forward towards his recovery. Going through physical therapy, training harder and harder with rehabilitative Pokémon, until he can walk on his own again. This time, an older and wiser Ash sets out on a journey. Just like last time, he's late getting to Professor Oak's laboratory. And when there's only one Pokémon left....He suddenly recalls all his memories of his ‘life’ and realizes that all his friends are gone forever.

As he sets out with his new companion, he finds the world is darker than he imagined. More ‘real’, Pokémon and people die; he too has aged.

He vows to become the Master he dreamed he was. He vows to himself.

He vows to them

I will be the very best.

Unfortunately, I think I'm going to spend the rest of the holidays searching for symbolism in places where there is none.

i will marry this man

2009-12-09T23:28:00.000-08:00

His name is Josh Gray, and he is a male model. I don't have to say anything else - just look at his pictures.

i love games

2009-12-03T18:11:00.000-08:00

Alright, all you dicks. Look at what your beloved /b/ has to say about your dumbass game. Click to see in full view.

SEE?? Read it again.

It is over. It isn't not funny. Fuck off and find a new meme.

I generally don't give a shit up memes and whatnot until it stops being funny, like 'The Game'. Please move on.

Actually, 'The Game' has never been funny in the first palce! LOL.

i love him

2009-11-30T17:50:00.000-08:00

I love my dog. He's a fox terrier/jack russell cross, and if he were human, we would totally mate.

The end.

don't be surprised, boy

2009-11-25T00:11:00.000-08:00

Pro tip: acting like a queen will make people think that you are gay.

You're welcome.

you are not invited to my next party

2009-11-17T01:05:00.000-08:00

DISCLAIMER: I am not homophobic. I have gay/bi friends and all that jazz, I just hate it when people, particularly chicks, fake their bisexuality.

I also hate apparently ‘bisexual’ chicks that have this fucked up habit of changing their preference about 3 times per day. You can’t be bi and straight at the same time.

Ok, you indecisive bitch. I’ve had quite enough of this circus.

You can’t change your sexuality every day, depending on your mood and what’ll distract people more off your ugly, pimpled face.

Oh yeah, I said it.

A little foundation won’t hurt. It won’t eat your face, although nothing is capable of making that mug of yours any more attractive, but hey, at least you can say you tried.

Also, I am tired of hearing about your epic, lesbian kisses at every party you happen to grace. You, penis-lover, should be aware that if you make out with the school’s resident lesbian (every school has one), everyone is going to talk about it.

No, no, don’t act awkward. Don’t shrug your shoulders. Face the music, and do me a favour, and admit that you’re and pimply-faced, ugly, non-bisexual whore who will make out with others just like you so that the cool kids will talk about you and pay attention to you for a day or 2.

Frankly, every time I imagine your hot, lesbian kisses, I feel like throwing up. Not because you are (barely) chicks, but because I’m just imagining your acne glowing in the semi-dark, and you grabbing onto her flabs of fat, and…

I’m going to stop before I gag and vomit on my keyboard and cover my desktop with my organs.
Moving on.

Go read a book on basic psychology concerning the sexuality of teenagers, and then maybe I’ll consider talking to you about your outrageous, totally uncalled for, attention-seeking behaviour.

Your totally camp, ‘straight’ BFF is not helping. Hand him down some of your masculinity and make him gain some weight before I snap his toothpick legs in a fit of rage induced by your faux-bisexuality.

Don’t make me make your BFF suffer now, just stop now.

The most awful thing about this is that nobody seems to understand that you are feeding them bullshit except for me.

I’m watching you.

sniff me

2009-11-15T02:15:00.000-08:00

Yeah, ok; I smoked behind the rec centre at the Expo, and it was bi-yoo-ti-ful.

It was several years since I last smoked, and the moment just sort of called for it. ‘Chloe’ and I snuck out through the back door, ‘cause she wanted a smoke, and I asked her for a cig.

So we’re sitting against a wall, behind some local high school, and these 2 chicks from that high school walk past, and one goes, ‘Nice hiding, ey?’

We had half a smoke each, ‘cause we were paranoid that our teacher would catch us. I forgot that smoking is such a big deal in Australia. Considering practically every second person over 13 does it in Russia.

When we returned 2 hours later to the same spot, there were 3 giggling pre-teens who took our spot and were eating fast food from McDonalds or Hungry’s.

We growled at them, and went around the corner to the back entrance to find… Oh shit, mother-fucker! Our professor.

Naturally, we get attacked over what the fuck we were doing behind the rec centre, and why are we not inside taking notes about expos, and then he comes up to us, and starts to sniff me.

Since I had last smoked 2 hours ago, and then doused myself in half a can of spray, the smell of smoke was gone.

We both had a massive freak out about it inside the centre, though.

We decided to not tell my other buds, because, when it comes to ‘ruining a life’, i.e. smoking and drinking, they start to act like little, virginal girls, and sob about how smoking = no future.

This is bullshit.

censor my world

2009-11-13T00:34:00.000-08:00

I am so fucking tired of this censored little world everyone is trying to force onto me. I’m not falling for it – sorry. Shut up with your politically correct shit and stare into the jaws of reality without shying away and hiding in you teddy-bear studded room.

Time to grow up and stop having mummy and daddy changing your diaper everyone time you step out of the house and shit yourself.

Let me educate you.

If you are able to spend money on comics (excuse me, ‘manga’), half-assed animated cartoons (‘anime’, right), DVDs, Korean candy and a handful of other shit that you can live without and still afford paying $8,000 a year for college – you are rich.

If you receive good grades for crappy work produced at Grade 7 standards – you are receiving grades not based on your inexistent talent, but rather on your family/social situation. For example, your teacher being buds with your mother.

If you are of white, Australian (alt. American) decent – you are of white, Australian (alt. American) decent. You are not French. You are not Spanish. You are not German. You are not Eastern European. You are of British decent. You are boring, so shut up, I don’t want to hear about it.

Also, get it through your prehistoric skull that in the 21st century, a girl and a boy can be friends without having any interests in each other outside of, you know, friendship. Hence me being friends with males who are ugly fucks and gays who would rather soil their Burberry coat in public than sleep with me.

I know that the thought of me dating him/them makes you masturbate madly at night, but, get over it.

Your primitive thinking appears to be inbred in your family. Go fuck yourselves and stop making my relationships with any male awkward.

When I am 30, and the single-mother of 4 kids, I will know who to blame.

i admit it, you are fat

2009-11-09T02:06:00.000-08:00

If you are shorter than me and weigh more than me, then you are not anorexic. Do not even try. Also, saying, ‘I don’t eat anything!’ in the middle of class will not buy you attention. Real anorexics hide their ED, by the way.

Silly wanarexic, fuck off and go eat a bowl of cheesy macaroni.

Yum.

Think thin, and all that pro-ana shit you just adore and spend hours Googling in your lonely, holiday days.

Calling yourself fat (whether or not you actually are considered fat by medical terms) is a common teenage girl trait I noticed, and is a pathetic method of fishing for compliments from your friends, classmates, etc. who will be forced to leap to the defence of your body image/self esteem and repeatedly claim that you are ‘fine’, ‘normal, ‘skinny’ and so on and so forth.

I feel fat on occasion, although, theoretically, I know that I am fine, and my BMI of 19 is healthy, so I don’t complain about it. Ever. I don’t consider bitching about your weight stylish. Just a bit desperate.

If you talk about yourself being ‘fat’, (providing you aren’t actually, clinically fat) is a way to get shit from absolutely every person who isn’t tainted with this PC bullshit.

Fun fact, for your body to actually reach ‘starvation mode’, and for you reap any benefits from starving, you have to go 14 – 28 days without food, varying on your initial height, weight, fat percentage, etc.

Here’s a personal story.

At the start of the year, I was having a hard time maintaining relationships with friends, classmates and family. I was easily irritable (I still am), and took everything personally.

I wouldn’t call it depression, but it was close.

I lost 15 kilos (33 pounds). Jealous?

Starve yourself, bitches!!

number 5: i am not going to do my english homework

2009-11-06T01:26:00.000-08:00

5 reasons that I am going to avoid doing my English homework for as long as I can:

FIVE. My teacher is an old, anti-Russian hag and still thinks that communism is the hip thing in Russia. Ironically, I don’t actually know what the principle ideals of communism are.

FOUR. Nobody will care about whether I handed up my ‘I, Robot’ essay in 2 years, let alone 10.

THREE. I’m bored of getting Bs for every outstanding piece of work that I produce. You, Mrs. English Teacher, can find something wrong with basically anything. What the fuck is wrong with me saying that there are action sequences in ‘I, Robot’?

TWO. This is the third piece of work that I am doing on ‘I, Robot’ this year alone – this is annoying.

ONE. I haven’t done any homework in 3 months, so go shove your essays up your ass and get them out when I actually feel that doing English homework is more productive than playing Solitaire.

oh my fuck - it's a trap!

2009-10-29T00:06:00.000-07:00

Yeah, I've been gone for a while. School, etc. I have a life. I am busy. I don't have time to write shit up about people.

But that's not what I'm here to bitch about.

4chan, Encyclopedia Dramatica and all that shit - '/b/tards'.

Fuck, you're sick. I never had anything against all that shit until I came across 2 particular articles that kind of stuck in my mind for several days, and I just keep remembering that level of disrespect for a dead a person and a person who may be dead.

I didn't want to talk about it, or mention it at all, because this humour is sick. In fact, I wasn't even sure that I should leave links, although finding what I'm on about isn't too hard.

This and this is not tasteful. It's not funny.

I don't even know if the second one is dead, but considering he is still getting stalked, I'd say he's lying-low. Reasonable, considering a bunch of immature dickheads on 4chan keep insisting on giving him shit.

I'm sure if I met either of those 2 people, we would not get along. I'm sure we'd hate each other quite a bit, however, considering the way people are getting cheap laughs on their behalf, yeah, I'm going to bitch about it, and I damn fucking wish he/they were alive to fucking see it.

But that is not the case. My problem with this is that, frankly, this is sick. That's all. Just immature, disrespectful and kind of lame.

I wouldn't be surprised if the people who write these articles steal wheelchairs from disabled people.

So yeah, go fuck yourselves.

my opinion differs from the majority: 23 oct. 2009

2009-10-23T08:02:00.000-07:00

Today, I am going to write about porn.

Chances are, you've watched porn. Porn is part of our society, you really can't protest when there's places like 4chan promoting the idea and vision that women are just there to cook for men, pleasure men, and whatever else the man, the master, desires.

I mean, fuck, there's 13 year old boys with porn on their phones!

Frankly, porn is disgusting. I am not religious. I am not doing the whole 'sex is a sacred thing' bull shit. I just hated the idea of porn as soon as I found out that men with no life masturbate to videos of naked women and women getting fucked, and women fucking men (hm...).

I hated the idea that those whores get off easy, and instead of doing something, say, going to fucking college or uni or getting a normal job, say, working in a fucking cafe, they fuck for the camera, get a roll of money and go home feeling 'sexy'.

That's too easy. That's not how you live a life.

Porn is forced. Most of the time, the woman doesn't want to even be there. It is purely rape that the woman agrees to take part in because she is a lazy bitch who isn't trying hard enough to get her life to work the way she wants.

Can you justify rape? Honestly, yes. I believe that most rape cases are provoked by the woman herself.

So, by the way, your 80 GB porn folder is basically rape. Fuck, how does that make you feel? Wait, wait, horny, that's right.

Oh, and those 2, 3 lesbians you have a video of having an orgy or some equally fake, forced, paid (gay for pay!!) shit, right? I know this is going to probably break the hearts of all the hardcore girl-on-girl fans out there, but it's not real. Those naked ladies? They don't know each other. They liked penis and are trying to make money, because lesbianism sells.

Boo hoo. I think I butchered your distorted view on reality.

If you are interested in what really goes on and want to read concerning the real face porn, this is a good place to start. Fairly PG.

men in uniform

2009-10-20T00:13:00.000-07:00

I love guys in uniform. I love non-ugly guys in non-ugly uniforms.

Hello Gackt.

Maybe I’m into the whole historical-style uniforms.

So I’m kind of annoyed with the Russian government for being kinda lazy and not bothering to give the army 4 million dollars (2 years ago, mind you) to replace their old, Soviet uniforms with something a little more colourful.

Ugly faces have been removed because I want you to believe me when I say that the Russian army is sexy.

But what can I say, it’s still much, much better than what I see at home.

Police from where I’m from cannot be trusted to protect my safety:

They’re pretty dull. They just stand around and place speed cameras in awesome places – behind bushes and shit. It’s like a game, I swear.

These guys are from the Moscow police:

Wow, at least they’re actual doing something! Seriously, you should try Googling Moscow’s police, ‘cause instead of modelling their sexay uniforms, they are doing actual work, ie, arresting people for being dickheads and parading in front of tourists.

Oh my God, a police force that actually does their job!

In Adelaide (this is where I usually live) the only concern that the police force seems to have is road safety. Oh wait, right, that’s because Australians can’t drive for shit without slaughtering everyone on the road. Genius.

Looking at the registration requirements for the role of Police Officer in South Australia, I have lost even more faith in the Australian Police Forces. I am getting ‘protected’ by a bunch of sheep in uniform.

“As part of your computer competency assessment you will be required to use Microsoft Windows XP. You’ll also need to have a typing speed of at least 26 wpm with 96% accuracy.”

What utter moron in our modern society does not have the knowledge to use Microsoft Windows XP? Suspicions confirmed, Adelaide is a backwater town.

26 words per minute? Oh please.

I, the child of Russian immigrants who started school not knowing shit about computers and the English language, could type faster. 10 years ago.

air china has ruined my life

2009-10-19T02:30:00.000-07:00

Dear Air China and Flight Center Staff,

Fuck you.

You have wasted 5 hours of my life, and 3,600 rubles on a taxi to the airport, and then back, because you neglected to inform us that our flight has been cancelled.

Again, fuck you.

I called your Moscow office 2 days ago to confirm that our flight is continuing as written on my e-tickets. Your worker was probably kitten huffing, and therefore, neglected to let me know that I need to arrive at the airport 3 hours earlier than planned.

I want my 3,600 rubles back.

Also, great job on post-poning my return to Adelaide. I kind of need to get my life back on track, and to tedious tasks, such as getting a workplace to accept me for work experience by the end of the school year and whatnot, but that doesn't concern you. Also, I need to get to the Senior College for subject selection night without looking like complete shit in front of my future classmates and professors.

But wait, you don't care.

You can't even notify me with a quick email.

Qu ni de, bitches!

--Your customer.

PS, my eye in now twitching. If I scare any young children in your country with my violated grimace, I apologize.

no, you don't have a personality disorder

2009-10-17T07:22:00.000-07:00

There is a chick in my class, let's call her... Amy.

Ok, I know what your thinking, 'Katya, what the fuck, everyone has a chick in their class! Duh! Get to the point', but no, you're wrong, you're just not getting it.

Amy is special.

Amy has a group of supportive (albeit freaky goth) friends. Amy is from a white, middle-class family. She also claims to take meds and visit a psychologist 'cause that's the 'trendy' thing for all emotional and depressed teenagers with no real problems to do.

Wait, wait, whut? Emo you say? Fuck, mate, don't let her hear you say that, because this results in a rabid attack from the girl herself, formless black-chipped nails and all 70 kilos (154 fucking pounds) of her.

What am I getting at?

Last night I had a chat to my uncle concerning personality disorders and psychological problems. My uncle is a psychologist. He is a good psychologist, he has a lot of experience in these sorts of areas, and his opinion is respected by other psychologists all over the fucking world.

And in his opinion (and I adopted this view on the matter), is that personality disorders and psychological problems of that type, do not exist.

A personality disorder is not a problem with the patient at hand, but rather a collective group of the character traits the patient displays. These particular 'symptoms' are then labelled as a personality disorder by lazy psychologists who want to have the patient return for sessions in order to make money, etc.

So basically, a personality disorder is a actually stereotype against people with the character traits that are considered not-standard or unusual amongst the majority of the population.

Ironically, the people that I do know (cough, Emos) who claim to be diagnosed with a 1,000 personality disorders, chronic depression and whatever the fuck else, are incredibly vocal about their scorn for stereotypes.

They are trapped in a stereotype that they invented for themselves.

Nice job, losers.

my choice

2009-10-15T05:48:00.000-07:00

Borderline ~ deviantArt opal moon

I just feel like I have to write this, so excuse the emo-teenager-ness of this, please. I know that when I started this blog, I said that I will never complain and be boring and go on and one about how much my life sucks, and, boo hoo, I am a teenage girl full of insecurities, but fuck off.

This is my blog, and I will write whatever I damn well want, even if it concerns my BMI, or my future.

I am an ugly hag. Really. I have a mole ('beauty spot' my ass) on my cheek and about 20 freckles, which I will be lasering the fuck off my face. I am so going to think of a way to exploit the MediCare Australia system and get laser ('cosmetic', bitches) surgery on my face.

I do not believe that people who look at me don't notice it at first glance. It's not fine. It makes it worse.

And I am fat. Teenage girls say it all the fucking time, but shut up and watch me complain. No wonder this teacher at Russian weekend school made me a hippo in a play once. I now kind of want to develop an eating disorder so that I could blame him for it and make him play for sessions with my psychologist.

Want an insensitive fuck.

I am a perfectionist. It's generally a good quality, but I have, and I will, put myself through hell, sleep 4 hours a night, eat once very 3 days, stick my fingers down my throat, and pay for cosmetic surgery until I am satisfied with myself, and abosultely every aspect.

I want to die having achieved everything that I wanted.

Praise doesn't mean anything to me, I know that you are lying.

Criticism does.

And in the end, what I do, that is my choice. And no one has the right to interfere with my life. I can see what I am doing. I know that I'm wrong, I don't care, and I will keep doing whatever I want because that is my choice.

It is my life, no yours.

For all those sick religious types out there, judging by the fact that my parents don't care about me, no, I am not going to be grateful to them for giving me life, or whatever. It's not like they actually wanted to have me.

People always ask me what's wrong. Maybe that's inbred into society, I don't know, but they don't care, therefore they have no right to ask. Do you want to know what's wrong? Really? Do you? You won't understand.

Oh, I'm being judgemental now?

I am the daughter of Russian immigrants.

I have no relationship with my family.

I truly hate myself.

I am disgrace to every group of people that I somehow represent.

I do not feel like part of this world.

I don't trust people. At all.

I can't keep up relationships.

I have no motivation - to do anything.

Is that enough?

my opinion differs from the majority: 8 oct. 2009

2009-10-08T04:42:00.000-07:00

Today, I am going to write about falling in love with an idol.

Ok, so over the past 2 days, I have single-handedly found, not one, but two female, Jrock fans who claim to be in love with our beloved Ruki, dear vocalist of the GazettE (I added that capital 'E', because I'm scared of getting flamed by rabid fangirls claiming that I don't know shit about their 'super, kawaii hot, masculine-lol' band).

DISCLAIMER: I am not attacking fans/supporters. What I'm trying to do is open people's eyes, so there's no need to get butt-hurt about it. If you want to get butt-hurt and you're a Jrock fan, read this instead.

Anyway, the point of this is, I want to make a point to people who fall in love with someone, who, realistically, they can't have. I've done it, yes. At least I can admit it without being ashamed, because I think it's natural for a person to admire another person's abilities, looks and persona from afar and pass it off as a more serious type of feeling.

I just suffered a trauma. Argh. I hate to say it but for the first
time, I hate Ruki for being Matsumoto Takanori. I still admire him as a
musician, for his talents and his artistic views.But him being a lover, as a
man. I think I don't want to sink into that much. I made a right choice since I
never actually gave a thought of wanting to be his *coughs* lover, having dreams
of meeting him and trying to make him like me. Nah, that would be just TOO
suffocating. AHHHHHHHH.I don't know how long this trauma gonna last. The
last trauma I had was the photo shoot where he took with a girl.
--Ruki fangirl on her Ameblo page.

IWASANDSTILLAMREALLYREALLYREALLYATTACHEDTOYOUANDYOURDAMNPRESENCEANDYOURGODDAMNDIVINEAWESOMEBEAUTIFULVOICEANDEVERYTHINGBUTIWANTTOGETRIDOFITBECAUSEYOU...
YOU... YOU... I GODDAMN LOVE YOU, YOU AMERICAFREAK! YOU GODDAMN DIVINE
AMERICAFREAK! BUT DO I WANT TO LOVE YOU ANYMORE? DO I? DO I? DO I? Yes, your
voice and lyrics have kept me alive and feeling (above anything else that could
ever affect me) for years, and brought my bits of sanity back bit by bit, but I
just wish it would be about time to get over most of. Especially since you're
never, ever going to preform in Finland. I bet you actually dislike Finland, or
are just extremely indifferent about this small, forgotten little country. Well
who WOULDN'T be. But I still greatly appreciate you, your work, everything. I
love you.
--Another fangirl on her blog.

I've decided, that in order to not defame anyone (some of these people are high-profile in the Jrock online fandom) that I won't be mentioning names, although I personally sort of think they would have deserved it.

I just thought I'd be real witty and mature and do this:

I'm not here to sit around and giggle about some people's (sad) love lives starring Ruki/Shou/Reita/Kame/Jin/whoever. The point I am trying to make, is not that this is almost worse than yaoi fangirls, alright?

Falling in love with some idol or muscian is not as easy as these people like to think. It's not as romantic, it's not as beautiful, it's full of the same pain and suffering that normal lovers have. Just look at Reina Valentine.

The more time you spend, staring and sighing and drooling and making vulgar comments about the people carefully organized in folders in your 'My Pictures' folder - just remember, you are pushing yourself away from reality.

Shou is not going to look out across the auditory during Alice Nine's tour of the US, see a flouncing fangirl, and fall deeply in love with her.

You are not going to end up in Tokyo via some awesome university program and just happen to meet KAT-TUN's Kame in the Shibuya Starbucks.

Do you want me to tell you how you can meet someone of that status? Realistically? I can seriously share with you a secret that does not promise you the engagement to the love of your life, but what I can promise is that you will feel that you have done something in the field that could have bought your dreams closer to reality.

You will not, will not, complete this practice, purely, because you will change your mind long before you come even close to succeeding, but, you will try, and that is important, because at least you will have no regrets later.

If you live in America, know English (hopefully) and Japanese or Korean, well done, you are half way there. This makes it easier for you to get a position in an organization focusing on spreading Jrock/Jpop/Kpop whatever to the English-speaking community (as a side note, these organizations also exist in languages besides English, but for them, do your own damn research).

Some personal requirements? Of course. Your have to be a reasonable age, like, not a teenager. Good education. Literacy. Friendliness. Knowledge of the subject.

Some places you can try applying at are JaME, Music Japan+ and Jrock Revolution.

You submitted your application? They were ecstatic and, naturally, you got hired? Awesome! Now move up through the ranks until you get to interview the artists themselves.

And then you know the drill. You meet, love at first sight, fool around in the luxury San Francisco hotel room, you get preggers (shit!), he proposes, you get married and move to Tokyo and never have to work again, 'cause he is filthy rich, so basically, you live off his money.

Then he cheats on you with a series of younger women, etc., etc., you are miserable, etc., etc., you start drinking, etc., drugs, etc., you die.

But at least you got him to marry you, right?

Click it. Please

my brother is a camwhore and a total girl

2009-10-06T02:51:00.000-07:00

I went through all the photos on our shared camera, and found photos of my brother camwhoring. I kid you not - it can't be called anything else, and it is awful.

Proof that my brother is a girl, and a camwhore:

I rest my case.

Anyway, wait I'm really here to say, is that I cleaned out the camera, and decided to upload some stuff that I should have uploaded a while ago, but couldn't be bothered. But now it's here.

I miss Adelaide... I miss the seagulls and the drunk teenagers who rock up at the beaches after sunset...

Can't remember why I took pictures of my room... I miss having English set as the default language on my computer.

This is a shop. It is an expensive shop (for me). The clothes here cost more than tickets from Adelaide to Moscow. It was completely empty of actual shoppers, and the only people there were those annoying chicks who follow you around and try to 'help' piss you off and don't give you any personal space.

I also hate the arrogant security men there.

I was horrified when I saw these massive Chupa-Chups. Talk about too much of a good thing...

Flower display at the local florist's. I like that white dog.

Sun setting outside a subway station.

Stalin used to hang out here. Awesome.

We hung out with my mum's cousin yesterday. We just walked around this 'pedestrian' street, dodging cars and going to Starbucks. My mum's cousin lives in a town with a population of 250 people. He has never been to a normal, non-shitty cafe. And he kept defending communism. He didn't like Starbucks.

But he's not that important.

What matters is that I spent the entire day running around in these boots. They are pretty boots, but they managed to skin my feel and do something weird with my other foot.

The point of all this being, that I was limping on both feet.

My friend calls them 'sado-masochism boots.' She is right. Those boots hurt me.

I am the pained-looking one with the purple scarf.

Wall of graffiti. Fat chicks are adding some messages. They ran over as soon as I got out my camera in order to ruin my photo. Bitches.

We saw my grandma on the subway, so we went to sit with her. Woman on the right is my mum.

Returning home.

number 5: poem about school

2009-10-05T01:07:00.000-07:00

Term One - Rhymes well with 'nun',
But that's not what I'm trying to sell.
It is a tragic tale I am willing to tell.

I am not the biggest fan,
Of eating from a can.

School is wasting my time,
It should be a major crime.

And someone should tell my teachers,
(They often act like creatures)

'This is not how you earn 'respect'!
It's how you run a brain-washing sect!'

Term Two,
I feel like catching the flu.

I am on the brink
(But no one seems to think),

That it's time for an uproar.
Time to shake this building to the core.

And sit with someone you hate,
We all need to tempt fate.

Term Three,
I no longer want to see.

Go behind someone's back,
And try to learn to hack!

Give that 'A' to me.
I fucking deserve it, see?!

Don't you hear?
I should mutilate your ear.

But that'd be so van Gogh.
You're a stupid hoe.

I'm tired of competeing with my classmates,
And of trying to ignore what my report states.

I'm tired of pretending that I don't care,
Because, in reality, I know, this is not fair.

Biased - without apology,
It's like a form of sad scientology.

I struggled,
I fought,
And only look at what is has bought.

My Russian revolutionary blood -
Nothing.
It's all dissolved into the mud.

But I will keep afloat,
I still need to cut that bitch's throat.

---

Made it up... in the shower. It's where I get my best ideas. Strange.

It took 5 minutes.

Anyway, this is the end of a poem I wanted to write. There's supposed to be 3 more parts, one for each of the first 3 terms respectively. But... whatever.

I wrote this mainly for my English teacher, because that stupid bitch won't give me a fucking A, even though I deserve it. I will cut that bitch if I don't get an A when I get back home.

I will cut her.

EDIT: I've finished the other 3 verses, and put them into the poem above. I also added the last verse. I think it gives the poem a special touch, don't you think?

shut up, old man

2009-09-30T19:21:00.000-07:00

Last night, my grandpa, being the incredibly sensitive person he is (irony), said that I act like a man and my brother acts like a woman.

My grandpa is old, and comes from a village. He does not understand that my behaviour is not that of a man - it is that of a modern, kick-ass bitch-woman.

He also believes that when I get married, the money I make and the money my husband makes would be shared, and that, as his wife, I have no right to call the money I make at work my money, because it is shared.

Um, what?!

Fuck off. My money is my money.

And you're going to die soon.

number 5: i hate my multimedia teacher

2009-09-30T04:02:00.000-07:00

Pic not related.

Image courtesy of someone on cracked.com

ONE. He gave me a D, despite the fact that I finished all my work. Who cares that I didn't hand up one assignment. I finished it, it's on my computer. If you want it, just fucking ask me for it! You have a book with grades, etc. in it! Look at it, and ask me about my magazine cover!

TWO. He is cocky. Like, making-me-want-to-punch-face cocky.

THREE. He doesn't add anyone on Facebook. If you make a Facebook, and you are a teacher, you can count on being added by the little pigs who waste your time every Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. So his students add him, thinking in their little deceited minds that he's a 'cool' teacher, and will add him back. Little to they know that this will just result in him cackling over his 'laptop' and ignoring all your requests. Asshole.

FOUR. His laptop is pathetic. It looks more like a pamphlet.

FIVE. He updates his Twitter during our basic HTML exams, just to prove that he is 'cool'. My Neopet is cooler than him.

my opinion differs from the majority: 26 sept. 2009

2009-09-26T00:48:00.000-07:00

Today, I am going to write about Facebook.

I hate Facebook. I hate that I get e-mails every time one or another of my 'friends' (most of which I haven't ever met) do something. I hate that I get invited to groups supporting crap that I couldn't care any less about. And I hate that people that I do not know write crap like, 'Oooh, pretty girl...' on my wall.

Um, fuck off?

All your wonderful apps are useless. And if I get invited to one more animal-related game on Facebook, I will tear that poor bitch's eyes out with a spoon. What? What is so compelling that it makes grown, and apparently 'mature' people spend hours in front of a screen planting trees and playing games with their new pet in Pet Society?

I admit it, I fell victim to the Facebook lure for about, oh, 2-3 weeks, but I am a thinking, breathing human being, and I have better things to do than slowly kill my life making points to buy baby Soymilk new clothes.

And has anyone noticed how the layout looks like a dull, Twitter rip-off? People who make layouts like this deserve to be shot.

I understand that it's supposed to be simple and easy to understand, and blah, but just look at it, ok? It's not clever, it's not creative, it is ugly. They could have, at least, had the option of allowing users to customize their own page, to you know, sort of show their 4,000 friends what they are all about, but no. No. I am stuck with royal blue and white. Those were the colours of my first primary school uniform, and frankly, that is what I associate them with.

Well, that, and learning about dinosaurs or some other equally useless shit.

And somebody seems to have forgotten to invite me to this competition concerning how many friends you have added. The amount of people who have added you does not signal your popularity, merely how common your name is. Of all the people on your friend list, can you be honest, at least with yourself, and say how many people on there do you actually talk to (or simply even know!) in Real Life.

Real Life being that place you occassionally go to in between updating your status and playing with Lil' Buddy on Pet Society.

oh, my, little pony

2009-09-24T04:25:00.000-07:00

What happened to My Little Pony? What happened to the long, slender legs, and the almost-too-perfect, horse-like body?

What happened to my childhood?

I used to watch the My Little Pony Movie every day. I loved that movie, despite my initial annoyance with that stupid dragon, Spike, and that the Grundles from Grundleland sung stupid songs whenever they got the chance - which was generally every 5-10 minutes. Oh my God, I just realized that the My Little Pony Movie is sort of like the Labyrinth, only animated, and David Bowie is cooler and sings slightly better than the Grundles from Grundleland.

I just compared David Bowie to the Grundles. I just gave David Bowie a reason to hunt me down.

I remember what my first My Little Pony looked like. He (collectors are saying that he is a she, but they are lying. I am right. Stop ruining my childish dreams) was pale yellow, with a pink mane and tail, and with a butterfly print on his rump. He was sexy, and the card that came with his box said that his name was Sky Skimmer, and he was part of the Secret Surprise Friends range. How beautiful is his name? Huh? He was a Generation 2 My Little Pony. Generation 2 were the sexiest My Little Ponies, and you fucking know it.

In fact, I have every Pony in released in 1997 through to 1998, and even a couple from 1999.

Now look at this fat kid.

What the fuck, you ugly bitch, DIE.

Must I remind you that horses (and ponies, for that matter) generally aren't fat, so could someone please try and explain what the hell happened to the elegant Ponies I used to spend hours chilling with as a kid?

Sky Skimmer and I were going to get married.

I'm starting to think that it's about time 4chan make some hilarious meme using My Little Pony as inspiration. In fact, if they haven't already done so, I would be very grateful to any /b/tard, or whatever you want to call yourselves, who would come up with a My Little Pony meme. I mean, how fucking funny would that be? Maybe some sexual innuendo working the fact that they are 'little' would be a good idea to start on?

Anyway, just let me know if someone thinks of something hilarious to do with My Little Ponies. Why won't someone jsut go ahead and ruin yet another part of my childhood?

These Ponies, on the other hand, these are somewhat acceptable. At least the idea is kind of cute.

layout + url change

2009-09-22T10:36:00.000-07:00

So I needed a change, and now I kind of want the other layout back, but, what can you do?

And I am tired of a certain someone bitching that he can't comment on entries. You still can't comment on entries, by the way, but at least if I put in a tagboard, you can comment, and it won't make the entire layout look like shit.

That's basically it, for today.

Oh, and I'm thinking of starting a Twitter account. But that's under question, considering, um, why the hell would I want to make a Twitter account?

In other matters, I'm sick, and my stupid mother is ditching me again for the sake of reminiscing with her boring friend/s.

EDIT: I actually found the codes I needed to allow comments. So now comments are enabled. Knock yourself out.

Concert Tips for Idiots

2009-09-20T23:44:00.000-07:00

At the Concert ~ deviantArt EasternArcadia

Finally, I bring you my vital tips to not fucking-up the concert-going experience.

So shut up and take notes.

Don't be a dickhead. It's kind of like, you show respect to the people around you, and you don't do stuff like push your way through a group of people and act loud, obnoxious and cocky. Everyone's here to have some fun, so morons won't be tolerated well.

Drink water. Sure they sell alcohol, but wouldn't it be that much nicer to feel all joyful and refreshed rather than sloppy and tipsy? Though so. By the way, the plastic cup of beer makes you look like a try-hard. You are not cool. Anyone can drink beer - they just don't want to buy rip-off beer in a shady venue.

Go to the toliet. Wanting to piss yourself is not rock 'n roll, 'k? (As isn't stuff like head-banging your way through a group of people, and looking like a try-hard with your plastic cup of beer).

Buy merchandise before the concert. The crowd is more violent during the rush for drinks and tour shirts after the concert than during it. Consider yourself officially warned.

Support the artist. The artist says wave your arms in the air - you do it. The artist asks you to repeat something after him/her - you do it. The artist starts his/her MC - you shut the fuck up and let the people who understand what he/she is saying listen.

Dress casually. Who are you here to impress? It is dark. It is sweaty. No one can see you (and no one really wants to) - and that is a relief considering the state your eyeliner is in, OMG, oh I just did. Oh, and wear a short-sleeved shirt. You'll thank me later.

Noise is good - just don't scream in my ear. Self-explanatory. Don't scream in people's ears unless you want to put yourself at risk of getting a punch to the face.

You are not the artist, therefore, do not play dress-ups. This mainly relates to visual kei, but slicking on black eyeliner does not make you Amy Lee, just as standing around looking bored does not make you any more visual kei, mainly due to you not being a Japanese male.

Total cliche, but enjoy yourself. You paid money for entry, and so did everyone around you. Now bite your childish pride and enjoy yourself. If you come to a concert, something must've drawn you there, right? Like, 'Omg, I am seeing so-and-so on stage! SQUEAL.'

MYV neo tokyo samurai black world tour 2009

2009-09-20T01:24:00.000-07:00

Look at the title, repeat it, and when Miyavi says 'Say it to camera!' or whatever, you do it.

That's my tip for fans going to concerts in non-English speaking countries. Or whatever. You know what, if you go to a concert, you may as well find out what it's called. You know - it's common courtesy.

Anyway, last night, I went to my first live concert. I went moshing with my mum - oh my God. The entire hall was hazy due to cigarette smoke, and I think Miyavi may have touched himself on stage, um, on purpose.

But whatever we had fun. In a seperate entry, I am going to introduce 'Katya's Concert Tips for Idiots.' I think it's necessary to educate people in concert-going.

I always knew that Miyavi is a pretty amazing artist. And the way he held himself on stage, despite the language barrier (due to fans, not Miyavi himself), is definitely something that I admire in him as a person and musician.

Allow me to throw in an example of Russian fans failing at a concert. This is approximate, since I can't remember everything word for word.

Miyavi: Hey guys-
Fans: OMFG SCREAM SCREAM MIAYVI MIAYVI SCREAM
Miyavi: Right, right, could you wave your hands and say 'M-Y-V Neo Tokyo Samurai Black World Tour 2009' to the camera, please?
Fans: ... SCREAM SCREAM MIYAVI
Miyavi: Did you remember?
FANS: SCREAM
Miyavi: It's 'M-Y-V Neo Tokyo Samurai Black World Tour 2009.' Got it?
Fans: SCREAM SCREAM SCREAM
-this continues for 3 minutes-
Miyavi: Are you bored?
Fans: SCREAM SCREAM MIYAVI MIAYVI MIYAVI MIYAVI
Katya: OMFG 'M-Y-V Neo Tokyo Samurai Black World Tour 2009'!!
Fans: SCREM SCREAM MIYAVI SCREAM ENCORE ENCORE
Miyavi: Do you understand what I am saying?
Katya: Ye-
Fans: SCREAM
Miyavi: You don't fucking understand
Katya: I under-
Fans: SCREAM MIYAVI MIYAVI MIYAVI MIYAVI
Miyavi: ... Alright, next song

I got another example!

Miyavi: We are living in the same age-
Fans: SCREAM SCREAM SCREAM MIYAVI MIYAVI MIAYVI SCREAM
Miyavi: And we are living together
Fans: SCREAM MIYAVI SCREAM
Miyavi: To think about life, means to think about death-
Fans: SCREEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAM
Miyavi: New song-
Fans: MIYAVI MIYAVI MIYAVI SCREAM SCREAM
Miyavi: 'Death ??'

By the way, Miyavi played a new (?) song! It's called 'Death something.' I don't know what the 'something' is (hence the question marks), since people were screaming so loud when Miyavi was announcing it. It's a good song, I like that song, and I wish people would've shut up when he was performing it.

I remember mentioning that if any tall bitch stands in front of me, I will have one or another sook about it, and hey, I lucked out. No tall bitch stood in front of me, but there sure was a tall bastard and his girlfriend. In fact, he was so tall my entire back is in pain. This comes from stretching in an attempt to see the stage.

The lighting was... somewhat questionable? Epileptic fit, much? But, then again, it worked with Miyavi's performance, so maybe the technicians didn't purposely want to try and blind me.

In conclusion, I am so going to Miyavi's concert again, if I have the chance. The entire experience was so surreal, because this was really just one of my dreams coming true. It made me think - visual kei is beautiful.

Miyavi, thank you.

The audience. If I spend several hours looking, I might find myself. Photo courtesy of Miyavi and his MySpace.

i am a plastic bag

2009-09-20T00:05:00.000-07:00

As the weather is starting to become colder in Russia, I am sensing the start of sales of winter fashions in local shopping centers and plazas! Oh joy!

Coming from Australia, we don't really need winter clothes, so before the concert last night, was actually the first time I went into a shop with the intention of looking at clothes, buying clothes, wishing I could buy clothes (Moscow prices on clothing is going to drive me insane), and frankly what is considered 'fashionable' in a warm coat is horrifying.

I mean, I understand that that 'leather jacket' look is cool, but maybe what they're doing is taking it too far, because the result is something between a rubbish bag and a sumo wrestler suit.
This is a typical Russian winter jacket. All the cool kids wear them, I swear!

What makes this all considerably worse, is that my mum insisted that before I go to the concert, I put on a winter coat, and since I sort of didn't bring one, I was blackmailed ('you are not leaving the house unless you wear a coat!') into wearing her's.

That's about when I realized that I have a style dilemma, seeing as the 'cool' look is a rubbish bag, and I was wearing something a little more, how shall we say, plastic bag.

In fact, I had an entire matching ensemble! Shoes! Bag! Wallet! And the coat itself, of course!

By the way, I bought a Miyavi concert shirt. It's a pretty, sparkly shirt, and it actually looks good. Kudos to Miyavi, or the designer, or whomever.

i hate animals

2009-09-19T23:12:00.000-07:00

My dog tore his fucking ear. $700 - gone.

I hate my dog for being an idiot.

He tore his ear because he was digging a hole under the sheet of metal my neighbour calls a fence. I do not know how bad it really is. How bad can a torn ear be?

Apparently, pretty bad. If a vet didn't do an operation, he could've died.

I really hope that my dad was over-exaggerating. In fact, it wouldn't surprise me if he was, I just can't shake off the feeling that maybe it's my fault that my dog is in pain, because I left him in the care of an old, incompetent man. That is, my neighbour, not my dad.

At least, I know where he is, and I know that people are trying to make it better. It would've been much worse if he had run away, or something.

I miss my dog, and I want to go home.

My dog is an idiot - and I am his master.

fun on youtube!

2009-09-12T02:06:00.000-07:00

I'm sorry for updating this page, like, 3 times per day. I know that I should try and limit it, but sometimes, something just happens, and I have to share. Being such a kind-hearted, open person, it's in my nature to share, so deal with it.

Then again, I don't understand why I'm apologizing, seeing as it's my blog, and I can do whatever the hell I want with it, so there's no need for me to justify my actions. Let's see you do better, huh?

Before anyone watches this, please try to ignore the mannequin groping at the start. I mean, I understand that it's a form of fanservice, but, Gackt, really, what the fuck? But besides that little questionable activity, how amazing is the set-up as a whole? Every time I watch Gackt live, I become more and more mesmerized and totally amazed.

This was obviously not filmed in Russia. It was filmed in Prague. Dima Bilan is cool, so don't you dare insult the pride of my country.

The previously mentioned Maxim Galkin making fun of a popular Russian TV show. Audio's in Russian.

Maxim Galkin and his opera-singing friend, Nikolai Baskov, dressed up as young girls are paying each other out. Audio's in Russian.

As you can see, I am having a lot of fun, and it's not even past 2 yet!

it just hit me

2009-09-12T00:38:00.000-07:00

Since I arrived in Moscow, I haven't listened to music at all. My iPod needs charging, and I can't be bothered sorting out all the cords that I have to deal with in order to charge it with a European powerpoint.

For the first time, I found my USB flash drive, and started to listen to music. It's only a gig, but at least it's something.

It's like, when you busy doing something you really enjoy, the whole day can go past, and you won't even notice that you're hungry until you start eating.

That's how I feel with music at the moment.

I know I sound like a weeaboo and a complete loser, but, I don't really know how to phrase it without all the sobbiness and stupid emotion. Listening to some songs that I haven't heard in a while made me choke up with emotion, and that's all I'm trying to say, no matter how bad it comes out.

Just imagine living your life with complete silence around you for 2 weeks. Maybe then you'll start to understand.

all work and no play makes jack a dull boy

2009-09-11T10:21:00.000-07:00

We went to a foodstore. It was around before the Revolution, and it sells every food product imaginable. At a price, but it is still worth it. They even have scary security guards, but then again, I have issues with security guards in general, but I won't be getting into that now.

Shampoo with red wine extract? Horse milk? Cinnamon chocolate? Weird, chewy vegetable salads? Got it.

Now, I need to warn you. Do yourself a favour, and never, ever drink horse milk. It is seriously foul, and when you try to open the bottle, it tends to explode over your favourite shirt. I keep hoping that the horse milk was past it's use-by date because nothing that disgusting deserves to co-exist in this world.

I know I exaggerate about things like this, but trust me. Don't do it.

Through an alleyway, we could see the edge of the Red Square. It was blocked of that night because there was a concert of some sort going on, and the tickets were a rip-off.

If you look carefully, you can see the beams from spotlights going off.

This leads to the entrance to a shopping plaza. It's kinda dangerous, though, 'cause it's really easy to get wet when you go under the fountain.

And it's really easy to slip, especially when moron tourists stop in the middle of the slippery pathway and start taking moron tourist photos.

This is where all the coolest, richest Russian teenagers hang out. This is inside a store, ok? This store is something like 4 levels high, with 'trendy' clothes shops around every corner.

The problem? The price. I'm not gonna be cocky and fake and pretend that the prices didn't make me sob, 'cause there were designer brands on massive sales, and even with those sales, we still couldn't afford to buy them. Pretty sad, huh?

some things just shouldn't mix

2009-09-10T00:45:00.000-07:00

Fat man having a heart attack? Asagi in a cage? Yeah, you lost me there, guys.

the cat and the clown

2009-09-08T10:19:00.000-07:00

This cat...

And this man...

... saved my life. I've been trying to avoid this subject, because everytime I bring it up, I want to shove my head into a pillow and try to suffocate myself before realizing that if I die, I won't be able to watch 'Scrubs' on MTV. In Russian.

Anyway, you know when you sit around doing nothing for a couple of days, and then you forget the date and what day of the week it is? Sometimes it gets so bad, you even forget the month? If you follow me here, you will realize that 'a nice getaway from the city in the form of a wooden shack 3 hours away from Moscow and hot water' is probably not the best way for me to relax.

I'm also scared of insects.

The black and white TV showed 3 channels out of the possible 28, so you know, I was pretty pissed off.

Oh yeah, and did I mention that the toilet is a bucket?

And if you touch any given wall, you get, like, 4 splinters. I hate splinters and rust. Every piece of metal (with the exception of cutlery) was rusted. Every panel of wood was riddled with tiny, sharp pieces of wood just itching to lodge itself into my skin.

At least they had electricity, right?

So then my grandpa had this great idea of taking me to a nearby swamp to pick mushrooms and anything else that we think is cool enough to eat. If you've ever gone wild muschroom picking, you will know that those mushrooms are generally damn ugly. So after picking a massive basketful of mushrooms, the idea of actually eating them made me vomit in my mouth.

In the end, I ate them with fried potatos. See, Jared, in Russia, we don't eat plain potatos, we eat them with vile mushrooms.

Since I've decided to become an optimist, I guess I'll just side-step the distressing experience of slopping through a rather filthy swamp at mid-day (this matters, because it was frickin' hot), with flies and mosquitos flying into my eyes, and nose and mouth.

I reckon I must've snorted at least 20 of those little bitches.

Anyway, I got to pick blueberries. I picked about half a kilo of blueberries (1 pound). When I brought them back to the wooden shack, my dear family ate all the good ones without me.

Gawd, why do I even bother?

Oh right, the cat and that random.

The first day that my aunt drove my brother, my mum and my gran down to that shack, we decided to leave my gran in her garden and went walking around the district. Some weird woman yelled at us from her garden, and when we walked over, she picked up a cat and asked us if we knew who her owner was.

Since we thought the cat was kinda cute, we decided to take her around the district and ask randoms if they wanted to keep her.

That was the coolest cat, like, ever. She followed us like a puppy, and it was really sweet. Although she reminded me of the days when I used to read the 'Warriors' series like an idiot, and that made me want to go and shove my face into a pillow.

For the first however-many days (approx. 3) the cat lived with us, she went without a name (we called her 'Кошка', lit. 'Cat'), until we started feeling kinda bad for her and had a vote about what we were gonna call her.

After some tears on the behalf of my brother, we decided that 'Милка', a name basically meaning, 'dear', suited her quite well.

I then realized that to write her name in English would be 'Milka', and that's a type of Swedish chocolate. That's also the name of my pencil-case that's shaped like a cow. It's really cool, it's a purple pencil-case, that's shaped like a cow, and came with Swedish chocolate.

And the man is Maxim Galkin. He's a Russian comedian, who likes to make jokes at Ukranian politicians, American cats, Australian penguins, Russian opera singers and Madonna. I mean, he laughed at his friend when his suitcase with money was stolen.

He is hilarious. I want to be friends with him.

link love

2009-09-08T05:05:00.000-07:00

I don't have faith in young people any more. I don't waste time trying to
communicate with them. - Vivienne Westwood

I just can't stop laughing at some people here. I keep wondering if I should sympathize with them or something, but why bother.

Since I'm going to be seeing him live soon (!!), I decided to look up Miyavi on Uncyclopedia.org. It was definitely worth it, and made me realize that Uncyclopedia.org tends to be fairly accurate in its information. Sort of.

Watched 'Harry Potter and the Half-Blooded Prince'? In which Dumbledore is a total queen?

Have you ever wondered about the most amusing articles on Wikipedia? This should help.

And just when I start to lose faith in humanity, I find something that makes me think, from the bottom of my heart, 'Humans are superior!'

I'm not big on the whole online games-thing, but how can someone not want to play a game as the sexy drag queen, Kissma?

Having recently mentioned second hand embarrassment, I think this is perfectly in order.

Since as far back as I can remember, I've always had a habit of giggling stupidly at the majority of fashions shown on runways. I could never put my finger on it, but there was always something suss about the fashion industry. Now I know what it is.

It's like YouTube, only in Russian and better!

it's gonna be live!

2009-09-07T23:07:00.000-07:00

If I could go to any live, it would be Miyavi's. Miyavi is bright and tries very hard to please the audience and to interact with them. He's not up-himself, and respects his fans. Although he is cocky, but it suits his image, so I'll let it slide.

Three months ago, I found out about Miyavi's 2009 world tour, and I cursed him a thousand times for going to Moscow precisely at the time when I won't be there. I was also surprised that a musician I like actually wants to go to Moscow, let alone a J-rock one. And still, the fact remains that there will be a Miyavi concert in Moscow.

By coincidence, we decided to go to Moscow from late August to mid October. And it just so happened that I bugged my mum about the concert. I tried blackmail, and reasoning with her about it, and yesterday, my uncle presented me with these.

However, (I'm just going to throw this warning out there), if any tall bitch decides to stand in my way, blocking the stage with her obese body my eye will twitch, and I hate it when that happens 'cause it feels weird and uncomfortable, and it won't stop for a couple of hours.
So don't do it, m'kay?

why are you doing this?

2009-09-07T01:04:00.000-07:00

I like to break people into groups. Not 'labels', exactly, but strictly speaking - yeah, I label people. I make assumptions, but hey, at least I can admit it and not act like a hypocrite about it because I am some sad loser who thinks that she is so original.

After clicking the links leading off my profile by interests, I was faced with thousands of people and blogs, sorted by random. I went into the profiles of about 50 people, also at random, and every blog, every list of interests was similar, if not almost identical. I just don't get it. It's like every person who likes some sort of visual kei is either Finnish, plasters their blog with pink, has interests only related to Japan or obssesses over stupid, amateur anime. On your behalf, I am embarrassed. Has anyone else noticed that, in our society, there is more and more reason to be overwhelmed by second hand embarrassment? Just look at people's blogs! It makes me sad. These are the people who place photos of members of visual kei bands as their user picture.

Camera, click, upload. Done.

It's not that hard to take a photo of yourself and use it.

Hell, if you fit into any of the categories that I listed in one or another paragraph, but are able to use a photo of yourself for your personal blog, I have some respect for you. Well done for not being a complete loser.

I hate anime. I hate manga. I hate sushi. I hate Lolita. I hate Japanese dramas. I hate Japanese pop. I hate Pocky. I don't do the azn pose thing in every photo. I don't pretend to know Japanese by squealing 'kawaii'. My dream is not to go to Japan. But I love visual kei.

Does that make me any less of a supporter? Am I still a weeaboo as far Encyclopedia Dramatica is concerned? Read that article, and then tell me how that makes you feel.

Well done for ruining visual kei, kids.

in this city

2009-09-01T07:12:00.000-07:00

Today we went to ВДНХ. This is a massive park, or something like that, in near central Moscow. There's always things going on - exhibitions, plays, festivals and other various events. It's a lot of fun when the weather isn't too hot and if you're young, with rich parents who buy you every sweet you look at, because they had it all. Fairy floss, popcorn, sweet almonds - it was like some sort of generic carnival.

We first went to the panorama cinema, or something along those lines. My mum keeps saying that this is the only panorama cinema in the world. Something is telling me that she's either being naive or overly patriotic for no reason. They were showing some 20 minute long film about geological findings in Siberia (not to be confused with Serbia). I zoned out after they started showing signs of bad creativity by randomly flashing pictures of 'rare' or 'special' stones across one or another screen.

There were five people in the entire cinema. Three of them were my mother, my little brother and I. The only panorama cinema in the world is also incredibly popular.

Impressive, huh?

After suffering through 20 minutes of me not getting what the hell is going on 360 degrees around me, we could finally leave. My mum then decided that she wants to drink tea at some place right outside the cinema's door. It was called Чаиный дом (lit. Tea House), showing the true colours of creativity that flows through the peoples' blood.

It was pretty cool, and be I a 20-something intellectual in my final year of uni, I would have been fascinated by the hundreds of sorts of tea available. But since all I could do was feign interest (honestly, all teas taste the same to me, although I prefer Earl Grey to regular black), I agreed to whatever pot of tea mum ordered. I think it was some sort of milk-flavoured black tea, and no matter how odd that sounds, it actually tasted pretty good, and I would have bought a take-home pack, had it not cost approximately $15 AUD per 100 grams.

Further along ВДНХ, near some really majestic and weird buildings and a massive round-about with the most murderous drivers I have ever seen, there was this plane. It was an ancient Aerofloat monstrosity, and thinking of flying anywhere in it made my skin crawl. Entry cost 100 roubles. It's a reasonable price, and you'll understand if you go on xe.com and look it up.

When I paid our hard earned cash to the rude, smug guy and walked onto the plane, I wasn't actually aware that this was some sort of weird exhibition. All these prints were hanging off the walls of the plane. It was an unexpected move that pissed me off, because it made taking photos a complicated process. I don't think that using flash was allowed, but I done it anyway. Still looks like crap, though.

These prints made me fall in love with graphic design.

Typically known as the highlights of ВДНХ, the (no longer working) fountains and structures could only have been photographed from boring angles, so I opted for the easier option of boycotting photographing anything that inconvineinces me. That roughly means about half the park.

These lamp-posts were designed to look like wheat. If you squint, you can sort of see the abstract traces of a resemblance.

After leaving the park, quite a challenge considering all the street merchants targeting unsuspecting tourists with their useless wares, we decided that it's time for lunch. It was 3 pm. Perfect.

I was reading a book (book was in English, 'Deja Vu' - John Larkin) on the subway. The English letters caught the attention of two uni students, who were amazed at how fast I read a 'foreign' language. It was flattering.

Anyway, this leads to the most traumatic part of my day. Shortly after we alighted the metro at a fairly up-scale part of the city with the intention of going to a home-style cafe called 'Му Му' (lit. 'Moo Moo'), I got attacked by some old and obviously insane woman. I need you to note, that in Grade 7 when we were studying phobias, the only phobia that I could think of that I could possibly have was Maniaphobia - the fear of insane people.

This woman was below shoulder height to me (I am 164 cm, or about 5'3") and couldn't speak, however she made this show of making all these hand signs at me. Something about not being allowed to eat. Or not eating, I don't know. And I freaked out. It should have been easy to walk away, but I was frozen in place. Even after my mum dragged me away, I lost my appetite and wanted to throw up.

The atmosphere of the cafe really helped me calm down. Probably one of the most people-friendly places in Moscow. All the kids were walking around with the spotted balloons the cafe offers every child under the age of 5, it was sweet.

I had a cup of морс, which is like a sweet drink made out of various berries, a small chicken salad and a julienne. My dad makes the best julienne.

Over my many visits to Moscow in the past, I have grown to know that an empty subway car means that we are almost home.

This means that I can watch MTV in peace.

walking into another world

2009-08-31T09:50:00.000-07:00

urban decay

2009-08-31T04:50:00.000-07:00

If weeds can be flowers, can't this be beautiful?

so it's been a while

2009-08-30T02:20:00.000-07:00

I was going to write something witty and clever about how much plane flights suck, but then everytime I think about it, my brain starts to bleed, so how about we just avoid the topic before I go and kill a puppy, or something.

So this is my third day in Moscow. The buildings and the sky used to depress me, but it's ok - I'm going to stop acting like a melodramatic emo kid and just get on with my life instead of wallowing in my own misery about how the buildings look dead, and how I do not understand why it's normal to see twelve year old girls clad in fake Dolce & Gabbana smoking outside my 'подъезд' at 10 pm on Friday night.

I went to see this epic movie several days ago. 'Каникулы строгого режима' is basically a Russian movie about these two guys who run away from prison and have to work in some summer camp with a bunch of little brats. It sounds generic and dull, but it's pretty good.

In two days it will be September the 1st, that is the day all the happy (smoking) children of Russia resume their studies at school. They have this thing called 'леньейка', which is basically when all the kids line up outside the school and the principal has a nice chat to them about behaviour for this school year, new rules, uniform regulations, etc.

There is a school right outside our apartment building, and I am planning to go down there in the morning and take pictures of all the kids and the cigarette packets in their bags. If I go down there, I might make some friends and then they could offer me a smoke. But this won't go without the tedious task of answering stupid foreigner questions regarding koalas, kangaroos, walking around upside down and Aboriginal people.

Talk about stereotypes.

Maybe I should ask them if they eat potatos for every meal and wash it down with a shot of vodka?

basically, this is a blog.

2009-08-22T23:22:00.000-07:00

I hate the word 'blog', though. Repeat it 20 times and you'll see why. It's an ugly word.

'Bulge' and 'gargle' are ugly, too.

Seeing as everyone seems to have this distorted view on blogs, I figured that I should try and fix that, but being me (i.e. lazy), I don’t think I should. I seriously won’t even bother.

What do you think of when you think ‘blog’? I think teenagers whining about breaking up about ‘the love of their life’. I also think of teenagers talking about shredding their wrists, and sticking their fingers down their throats. Since none of these three things concern me, I am can guarantee that my blog won’t mention any of them.

What got me thinking was the first entry for ‘blog’ on the Urban Dictionary:

n. Short for weblog. A meandering, blatantly uninteresting online diary that
gives the author the illusion that people are interested in their stupid,
pathetic life. Consists of such riveting entries as "homework sucks" and "I
slept until noon today."

Pfft. Whatever.