You know how there’s always that person on American Idol who is convinced that she is the best singer ever? Or that person who thinks he can draw better than anyone else? Or those thousands of folks on the Internet who think others are actually interested in viewing photos upon photos of them standing in front of a mirror with duckfaced expressions?!
This explains, to some degree, why such things happen.
Every time I use the word “I,” in speech or in text, I cringe a bit.
It makes me feel as though I’m acting like a self-centered, spoiled brat of an only child.
I sometimes tell myself I’m overexaggerating and that plenty of people use the word “I” with such frequency or more, but that doesn’t work.
Then I remember that I’m living a far more privileged life than the majority of humans on earth, plus I’m an only child who gets to travel, so I’m quite spoiled.
So I feel like even more of a self-centered, spoiled brat of an only child.
Half of the things I can even bring myself to write, no matter how long I spent typing them out, are either set as private or just deleted afterwards for this very reason. Even this confession was terribly hard to type out.
I apologize for my previous lengthy post, as well as this post.
Zoology/ethology/ecology, photography, or graphic novel-ing?
I could always become an ethologist or wildlife ecologist and do art on the side. I lovelovelove animal biology, especially the ecological and behavioral aspects of Kingdom Animalia. Plus, I might be able to engage in some photography during field studies. However, I would leave less time to work on non-photographical art, especially if I would have to travel, camp, and/or be away from a home computer or studio for extended periods of time.
Photography would give me an excuse to do that whole “travel the world” thing and be among wild critters, but unless I market it well or write articles regarding the photographs, there is little profit in that field. I need some amount of profit, since my dreams contain no kids or husbandy-folk, but a big dog, an axolotl, and a guinea pig. You can’t keep a big dog, an axolotl, and a guinea pig in an itty-bitty apartment.
I would really, really make to write graphic novels, seeing as my greatest fear is to die without telling the stories I’ve made up, many of which are very visual or wouldn’t work in a text-only format. That being said, the field is extremely competitive and from what I know, I would have little time to study, photograph, and/or poke real animals in far away lands due to the deadlines and amount of work required.
On top of that, I would feel a bit sad to not take biology courses in college. I’ve always wanted to be a natural scientist of some sort, and going to an art-only college would drive me insane in that aspect.
Then again, it seems as though many art students look down upon the “self-taught artists who think they can make it in the industry without going to art school.”
And my mom keeps saying that I’m not doing enough extracurricular whatnot to get into a good college. Whenever an opportunity passes, she tells me I should have taken it; she made something of a deal about how I didn’t shave my head for St. Baldrick’s and get into the newspaper last year.
Never mind that my photo was published in the same newspaper earlier, or that my photos are used by zoos, brochures, and wildlife parks, or that someone in the UK may be wearing a T-shirt that I designed this very moment. I’m not in enough clubs, I haven’t taken enough art courses, and I didn’t participate in St. Baldrick’s or save AIDS babies in third world countries. Plus, I don’t have a job other than watering the neighbors’ flowers and selling prints online, meaning that I pretty much don’t have a job.
At the moment, it stands that I have no idea what to do with my future.
Except that I will own a big dog, an axolotl, and a guinea pig.
Or at least a big dog.
I really want a dog.
If I can’t afford to go to college, I’ll just get a dog and try my best with art. There’s a solid plan right there!
My mom got three bottles of Crayola’s “washable colored bubbles” as gifts for my sister’s two kids (our mom’s grandkids, haha) for when we visited them earlier this week. They were pretty cool, but after playing with the bubbles a bit, my dad and I decided that we shouldn’t use them much seeing that they were quite messy and got all over the kiddies. So that was that.
Today, my sister’s younger son drank some of the bubbles and spilled the rest on the floor. And they don’t seem as washable as advertised, according to her Facebook status.
While my parents and I were in Texas, my sister, brother-in-law, and two nephews went over to Brazos Bend State Park to see the cute widdle alligators.
We decided that my sister and her husband deserved a break from the kids, so the 4-year-old and 3-year-old (Kai and Jaiden, respectively) sat in the back of my parents’ rental car, and their parents took their “aoi kuruma” (as Jaiden likes to call it)
On the way to gator-land, Kai asks me a little trivia question, “Sophie! Do you know where Jesus was born?”
Now, my sister and her husband met as Mormon missionaries in Chile, say grace before every meal at the dining table, and go to church every Sunday. They’re good practicing Mormons, them. And anyone who pokes fun at the Mormon religion ought to look at their own beliefs and realize that all religions seem insane from outside, but that’s a digression. Point is, Kai’s parents weren’t in the same vehicle at the time.
So I say, “Mexico!”
I expect to receive an interesting phone call in the future.
I was going to upload a few alligator photos (and possibly one of my nephew with a massive, mutant strawberry) but the computer feels like being a jerk and won’t let me upload anything to the interwebs.
And don’t say it’s because I’m using a Windows; the iPad is far more annoying.
But the trip, itself, was fun. Now, where’d that AP Calc homework go…?
I have to wonder what my teachers think of it. The 8-10 page paper I’m working on now (at least 3 pages left to go! 0_o) is based completely on characters’ views of religion and Christianity.
I’m a goody-two-shoes. And sometimes, worryingly, I’m among the first to catch a biblical reference.
Ironically, I don’t believe in the vast majority of the Bible, (that being nearly all but 8 or 9 of the Ten Commandmants) was never really taught any of it, and certainly don’t care for much of it. I’ve probably been inside a church less than ten times in my life, (funerals, weddings, and when my friend invited me) and have yet to set foot in a synagogue. Heck, I’ve probably visited more Buddhist temples than churches.
My teachers might think I’m Christian, or otherwise religious. That would be interesting.
Hekinan will probably be okay. It’s not exactly a coastal city, and it’s pretty far from the wreckage. My grandparents are probably eating breakfast and watching the news right now. Fish, rice, potatoes, and pickled greens, perhaps. With tea and instant coffee, of course.
That being said, there are still burning houses floating around Japan and over 1000 deaths, (someone said nearly 7000) not to mention the nuclear plant. New Zealand and Hawaii were also hit; things aren’t going too well in the Pacific.
“I then asked Queequeg whether he himself was ever troubled with dyspepsia…he said no; only upon one memorable occasion. It was after a great feast given by his father the king, on the gaining of a great battle wherein fifty of the enemy had been killed by about two o’clock in the afternoon, and all cooked and eaten that very evening.”—Herman Melville, Moby-Dick
For a guy living in a country without too many guns, Shaun does a pretty good job against the zombies. He and his team use a cricket bat, a tetherball pole, a plastic lawn chair, vinyl records, a shovel, a fire extinguisher, and even an ashtray before resorting to gunfire. They’re quite dangerous.
Diane gets extra points for using David’s leg as a weapon.
Tallahassee’s cool, but not “You’ve got red on you” cool. Plus, Simon tweeted the link.
According to Herman Melville and as proven by the Mythbusters, bullets cannot travel through water at fatal velocities. However, Melville says that shooting from the crow’s nest, as opposed to the ship’s deck, allows the bullets move fast enough to kill narwhals.
Of course, this is coming from a dead person who believed whales are fish, but it could be interesting to test.