Friday, June 28, 2002
it's 3am and i have work tomorrow - er - this morning.
but i have something to say.
some of you reading this may have known me for a relatively long time. others of you not for so long. you may know this already. you may not. you may find it horribly offensive. but i feel the need to say it anyway.
i am a Christian. there, i've said it. of course, it sounds almost . . i don't know - some sort of -ist that i don't have a name for. religionist, maybe? it's not that i'm ashamed of it. it's just that it sounds so intolerant, and i have an abhorrence of all things intolerant. but tolerance can quickly become intolerant, if it is carried to extremes. and organized religion can so quickly head for extremes - bad ones. but it's not meant to. (i'm babbling, aren't i?) er . . .my point is, that, well, i know this much is true: the universe and all that exists was created. by created i mean made to exist, i have no clue what process was used and to me it doesn't matter. this creative process/processes was set in motion/carried out by a creator. now here comes the big jump - this creator loves people. i don't understand this part. at all. but i guess it's like a mother's love. or maybe a scientist that's made things. or having something to do with the way i loved my science projects. i'm not quite sure. but i know this to be true. i'm not sure how, exactly, you might as well ask me how i know i love matthew. the knowledge just sort of exists. i wish i could explain it. *sigh* i'm not very good at this. okay, here's the crazy part. i . . .er . . .talk to this creator. okay, that sounds really crazy. even to me. but i do. it's like an invisible friend, only real. and really powerful. and really nice. but still invisible.
now comes the parts i'm not sure about. i don't know that this is the only way to be happy - this belief, i mean - but for me it is. i think as long as you're sure you're listening and following whatever God tells you, then you should do that. but crazy people think God tells them to do crazy things. i don't know what to say about that. i don't understand. so we have now reached the limit of things i feel qualified to say i know are true. well, except that i know this doesn't just hold true for me, but for everyone. there. that's all i know.
this is a really long post. i didn't mean for it to be. i just needed to say it all. i haven't been happy lately because i wasn't listening to God and was in fact actively pushing away for him. and now, things are better. lots better.
i didn't mean for this to sound so preachy, but i just wanted to share it, you know? like i try to push harry potter on everyone i know and like. that same sort of goodness spreading. of course, the only people that i know that read this are kevin and matthew, and both of them already know all this. but i still wanted to type it all out. and it's my blog, so i can. :)
posted by Kecia 3:30 AM
Thursday, June 27, 2002
my essay for the fellowship application i turned in today (i found it humorous, anyway):
Due to the shockingly high cost of living in the Washington DC area, I fear that I will not be able to support myself on the stipend provided for that purpose by the university. And, while I am as fond of ramen noodles as any student that has supported themselves on their own cooking for the past four years, I am prevented from acquiring a job to better my financial situation by the university and the amount of time I must spend teaching and conducting research. A scholarship, in addition to the stipend I have already acquired, would better my living situation considerably, and enable me to rent an apartment not already occupied by various vermin.
Despite whatever financial situation I find myself in, however, I intend to pursue my degree with all that is within me. It is my opinion that everyone was put on this planet to be of some use to his or her fellow humans, and this degree will empower me, above all else, to be useful. Modern medicine has made great advances, but the more we discover, the more we find we do not know. I intend to use my degree, once earned, to put me in a position to conduct medical research. I selected the University of Maryland because of their affiliation with the National Institutes of Health, and I hope to conduct my graduate research there. Beyond my desire to help people, I find science fun. As disturbing as that may sound, it is true, and I can think of no better plan than to spend my life doing work I enjoy. My misadventures in my undergraduate education have taught me that I have the strength and determination to succeed in this; my faith supports me. The determination that has brought me this far, I expect to carry me even further, as I draw ever closer to the goals I have set for myself.
posted by Kecia 11:26 PM
Monday, June 24, 2002
i wrote this a long time ago, and found it again recently:
so how could you possibly like me because i don't because the pink
elephants don't because they grew up in asia of course since they all grow
up there and i'm tired of it all but i don't want to die, no i want to live
and live and live with him in a nice sunny house on a hill and maybe one
day babies too but that's before the blue monster comes to take away us all
and i fall down the mountain that was a hill but grew and i'm tired now and
so the black valley swallows me and i try to keep you out of it but it
doesn't work and it swallows you too and it's all my fault and then a car
runs over me but i'm too tired to care and so i just sit crying on the edge
of the black muck until a duck comes over and eats my foot and says yummy
and then goes to find stalin singing a grave tune or maybe a toon because
who knows these days after science gets a hold on them all and it all
becomes a pursuit no holding still no resting no breathing just pushing and
pushing and pink and black and brownie child elephants eating your foot
posted by Kecia 10:21 PM
"The way I see things, life is both sad and funny. I can’t imagine a comical situation that isn’t at the same time also painful. I used to ask myself: What is a humorous situation? Now I ask: What is a sad situation and how can I tell it humorously?"-- Neil Simon
posted by Kecia 10:13 PM
Saturday, June 22, 2002
if you're coming here from GryffindorTower, the story is down a few entries. i've settled on posting the top of the two versions.
posted by Kecia 5:38 PM
I made this post over on GT and thought it was interesting enough to warrant posting here. We were supposed to post our ten favorite and least favorite characters from, of course, HP. So here's mine; I wonder what it says about my psyche . . .
Favorite
(in order, roughly)
1) Hermione
2) Ron
3) Remus
4) Percy and Victor tie
5) Snape
6) Lily
7) Petunia (okay, so this isn't really a like. i like all the others in this list. but i'm really interested in her - i mean, what could turn her against her sister so strongly? she's one of the more interesting figures in canon, and i hope we get to see more of her. just not tormenting Harry.)
8) Penelope Clearwater
9) Arthur Weasley and Cedric tie
10) a tie between Daedalus Diggle and Dumbledore's brother, whose name I can't remember. and that guy at the Quidditch World Cup that liked a 'healthy breeze' round his privates :)
Okay, so that's more than ten. I tried. *blushes* The wild Ford Anglia belongs up there somewhere too. And Fang.
Notice how neither Harry nor Dumbledore made that list. Harry - well, I can see Snape's point about him. He *is* given everything. Sure he's had a lot of tragedy, and I don't think Snape's behaviour to him is at all justified, but still, he doesn't make my top ten list. Maybe - say, fourteen or sixteen or something. And Ginny too . . . while I sympathize with her, she's around 12ish on my list. And don't get me started on my issues with Dumbledore.
~~~
Least Favorite:
er . . . I don'thave an order for these, but:
Pansy, Myrtle, Dobby, Trelawney, Peter, Piers, Mrs. Barty Crouch, Ludo Bagman, young Tom Riddle
Hufflepuff house just sort of generally annoys me. But individually, they all seem to be pretty good kids. *shrugs*
posted by Kecia 1:12 PM
Yay, online quizzles. Too much fun for the average Saturday.
posted by Kecia 12:43 PM
Ha! Obviously, since an online quiz has told me so, I must immediately dump Matthew . . . though, who knows, he might like to watch . . .
(it's a good thing no one reads this)
posted by Kecia 12:37 PM
blogblogblogblog.
blog is a fun word. this is my conclusion.
my computer is apparently not fully fixed, so i'm unreachable on im for a while still. and while icq works for me, apparently no one can see the messages i send. :( and ff.net. is still down. of course.
on the positive side, i didn't have to work today - yay me! and my commentses are fixed! (though they're not nearly as cool as Presto's now are . . .)
now. i must do work. really. i've been sitting on my butt all day. and yet, still i sit . . .
posted by Kecia 12:24 PM
Friday, June 21, 2002
gah. :-( loads of problems tonight. i typed up a lovely blog entry, detailing my reasons for putting up ginnylite and ginnydark in my blog, but then it got erased. no matter. and since these ficlets (one ficlet, two ways) aren't finished, i'll stick the disclaimer here: if i were jk rowling, i'd be working on OotP right now, and not on silly fanfic. and really, if i were jkr, it wouldn't be fanfic at all, now would it? so i'm not. these toys (the HP universe) are hers, and i'm not making any money off of them or even claiming them as my own. so there.
These are two versions of a companion piece to Parchment.
Version one:
*****
Dear Harry,
I’m afraid.
I’ve been afraid plenty of times in my life. Growing up with Fred and George tends to make you fear even your stuffed animals. But never like now – never with that sickening drop of the stomach that never seems to stop falling away. Never without the assurance that someone would come running to make it all okay again.
If that makes me still a child, then so be it. All my life, I’ve depended on others to fix the things I couldn’t, and it’s always been done. Oh, I can take care of myself, I know that. But it’s nice to know that if I ever can’t, someone will. Most of my life Mum fixed things for me. She’d send Fred and George scampering, and dry my tears, and fix me some hot cocoa. Then, when I got to Hogwarts, she wasn’t there. You were, though. And though you didn’t come with a steaming cup of cocoa, you still made everything better. I noticed, later, that you hadn’t even told on me. I had almost gotten you killed, and you still protected me.
Now, though, there is no assurance of a happy ending. No one can give me one, and I cannot make one. I am more helpless now that I was even my first year here, and it frightens me. I don’t know what made you feel this way about me. If these were different times, I’d be coquettish and shy, maybe even aloof – just to make you suffer a bit for only just noticing me now. I’d leave you unsure of my feelings, and carry on the dance that every fool in love has danced since the beginning of time. We’d have fun, you and I, tormenting each other, tormenting Ron and Hermione, plotting grand plots and dreaming grand dreams. But these are not dreaming times, and so you have left to do what must be done.
I am afraid. Afraid that I can’t carry on without someone here to catch me if I fall. Afraid that I can and that life will keep going even if the worst happens. Afraid of all the things left unsaid. Afraid of what tomorrow will bring. A Gryffindor’s defining trait is supposed to be courage. Right now, all I feel is fear.
As I look over the snow-stilled grounds, however, I know that my fear will pass. I am strong. Whatever happens, I promise you that I will keep the promises you asked of me. I will live the life you are giving to me. I promise.
But still, I am afraid. Afraid that this scrap of parchment will not reach you in time, that I will not have the chance to say what has been gradually building for what seems my entire life.
I am afraid that you will never know that I love you. Because, Harry, I do. I love you. And though the words seem strange to write, I know that they are true. And I want you to know that. I need you to know that. I need you to know that as I sit here, terrified and chilled by the dawning day, I think of your love, and I am warmed. I think of your kindness, and I feel like giving. I think of your courage, and I am emboldened. I think of you, and I feel like living. Thank you for all that you’ve given me. I can only give you in return my love, and in that, all that I am.
Love,
Ginny
Ginny flew downstairs and out into the snow. It was deep, and hard to walk through, but she barely noticed. She quickly swung open the heavy door to the owlery and fell inside to its relative warmth. “Hedwig!” A rush of snowy feathers came out of the loft. “Please, take this to Harry. I don’t know where he is, but I think you can find him. Please, Hedwig.” The owl stuck out her leg, and Ginny tied on the message with trembling fingers. “Please hurry, Hedwig.” The owl ruffled her feathers and was gone, disappearing eastward into the rising sun. Ginny watched her go. She had not stopped moving since Hedwig had landed on her arm that morning at five. The bewilderment of the appearance of Harry’s owl in her bed at such an ungodly hour – any hour, really – was enough to shake her fully awake. Besides, Hedwig had been quite insistent – hopping about in a manner the dignified animal usually reserved for Pig. “Pyrrhus Rex,” Ginny said. The Fat Lady looked at her with concerned eyes but said nothing as she swung open. Ginny sank into her favorite chair – the one Harry had mentioned in the letter. The letter . . . Ginny took in deep, steadying breaths. The letter that had contained all she had dreamed about – but she had never dreamed it like this. The tears that had been held back in the rush to get her own letter off began to trickle down her face. Ginny angrily swiped at them and brought out Harry’s letter once more. It was no use. She couldn’t even read it for the tears that blocked her vision. Curled up in her chair, she gave in to the sobs that threatened to tear her apart.
“Ginny.” Gentle hands were shaking her. She didn’t want to wake up. She was at a ball, and Harry was there, and holding her . . . his eyes spoke so much . . . “Ginny.”
“What?” snapped Ginny, sitting bolt upright. “Oh, hi, Hermione.”
“Ginny, have you been asleep down here all night?” Without waiting for an answer, Hermione rushed on. “Have you seen Harry? Ron woke up this morning and he was gone, and now we can’t find him anywhere.”
Harry. Harry was gone. Memory flooded back in a rush, and Ginny collapsed back into the seat. “He . . . he left, Hermione. To go face Voldemort.”
“Oh. Oh no. Why didn’t he tell us?”
Ginny shrugged. She didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t want to think about him being gone. Didn’t want to think about the letter, about loving him. Love. He said he loved her. But she didn’t want to think about that. Thinking would do no good right now. He was in danger and there was nothing she could do about it. Love. He said he loved her. No, she wouldn’t think about how he said she had his love. She wouldn’t think about his bravery or his selflessness or the way he loved her or the chance he might not come back or his eyes or . . .
Ginny vaguely noticed Hermione leave to find Ron. She had to get out of this cycle. There was no good in trying to not think about something unless you were in fact going to not think about it. The sick feeling of dread in her stomach wasn’t going away by sitting there. She stood up. The house elves had been preparing a feast for the victims of the war that were being cared for at Hogwarts. She’d go see if she could help.
She turned from the window, but just as she turned, a flash of red caught her eye. A single rose was peeking from the snow outside. It was battered and frost-bitten, but it was the most brilliant red she had ever seen.
******
Version two:
******
Empty. No, that wasn’t quite the word. In her stomach was a hollowed-out feeling, as if she’d just had the wind knocked out of her. A tumble from a broom, maybe, or one of Fred and George’s tricks.
Except that no cup of hot cocoa could fix this one.
He’d made her cocoa, once. She couldn’t sleep that night; she’d been dreaming again, about her first year. So she’d come down to the kitchen to fix herself a cup of tea: her one cooking skill. But he’d been down there, staring into a cooling mug of cocoa. She’d been about to leave – he didn’t need her to disturb him, she had thought. But then –
“Wait,” he’d said. “Er . . . I think I made all the cocoa that was left . . . but . . . “
And then he’d pulled another mug out of the cupboard, and poured half of his cocoa into it. He had pushed it toward her, and she, fearful that her knees would buckle any moment, had sunk into a seat across from him. They had drunk their cocoa in silence, neither feeling the need for words as the velvety warmth filled them up, chasing away the dreams.
But that was over now, and where the warmth had been was only . . . nothing. And over it, deceptively peaceful in her hands, lay a scrap of parchment.
She had always been a light sleeper. One would think that with six brothers she’d be able to sleep through anything, but that wasn’t the case. And so the scratching at the window had woken her, early this morning. Surprised to see an owl at the window – unless it was very urgent, they came only to the great hall at breakfast – she had stared sleepily at it for a few seconds, until, with a gasp, she recognized it, and her world slid into sharp focus.
Her eyes had fallen on the signature first: “Love, Harry.” Her heart had leaped, and she had laughed, and danced, and skipped around the room. For a moment all her dreams had come true, rainbow-bright. Finally, breathless, she had sat down to read.
Hermione, eyes red-rimmed from her own tears, had come to check on her, once. Apparently she and Ron were waiting in the common room for word of Harry. No other Gryffindors had stayed over the holiday, and eventually her absence had been noted. Ginny didn’t know what she’d said to her, but it must have been enough to satisfy Hermione. She’d gone back down to the common room, to Ron, leaving Ginny sitting in her letter-reading chair. She always came up here to read her letters. It was her favorite chair, identical to the one in front of the picture-window in the common room, but with the added benefit of privacy. She’d sat here all day, as the full import of Harry’s letter sank in, and her feeling of emptiness grew. Nothing could fix this, nothing. She’d never felt so helpless before . . . but then, she realized, she had. Her first year. Harry had saved her.
He couldn’t save her from this. Ginny tried to be positive, tried to hope for the best, but each glimmer of hope was swallowed by the mocking voice
Of course, Harry couldn’t save her from this. He had tried, but Ginny knew that as the light outside faded, so did hope for his return.
Ginny sat, and waited, and watched the sun slowly slip behind the trees. Shadows lengthened across the shimmering blanket of snow that covered the grounds. It all looked so peaceful, so pale. It was the Christmas holiday, so the snow still lay mostly unmarked. Most of the students had gone home, eager to see families; fearful that they might not again have that chance. The castle looked cold, frozen, something out of a fairy tale. Fairy tales, Ginny knew, always had a happy ending. The knight would come charging out of the forest, sweeping the ice princess out of her tower and onto his white horse.
It was dark outside, and Ginny wept.**********
well, there you have it. unfinished, unedited, in all its sappy angsty glory.
and yet, i'm still not sleepy. gah.
posted by Kecia 1:28 AM
Thursday, June 20, 2002
whee! my computer's back! yay for fixed computers! and i've had roses thrown for me, and found roses on my computer, and generally been really happy.
well, until this second. when i realized exactly how long i've spent on the computer today. oops.
ahem.
*runs off to do useful work*
posted by Kecia 9:25 PM
meep! meep! *dances around in circles* my computer's fixed! wheeeeee! *falls asleep with head on keyboard* ascdxzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
posted by Kecia 12:34 AM
Wednesday, June 05, 2002
23
I act like I'm 23.
This test was brought to you by David - Part of the David and James phenomenon. Take it here.
and now you know :) this is me, being in a better mood. a much better one. it could have something to do with the veryveryvery expensive piece of parchment that arrived today . . . *dances around with her diploma*
posted by Kecia 7:10 PM
Monday, June 03, 2002
so.
my computer is still broken. matthew has given his respected opinion that it is either my motherboard or my processor, and that i should buy both anyway. (something about their sizes, or something) as i don't have any money at the moment, i'm still using my parents' computer. which is really not the problem - sure, it's little and slow and most importantly not mine - but I could deal with that. the problem is the dial-up service they're using is unreliable at best and homicidal-rage inducing at worst. bah.
still two months before the move. many things need to happen in that time. i need to get a job. (i'm working on it. honest.) i need to save two months rent, my half of the deposit, my half of the four hundred freaking dollar uhaul rental fee, and enough to live on for two months. (see previous statement) i need to stem the tide of disappointment in me living at home has brought to my parents. i need to stem the tide of extreme frustration living at home has brought to me. (i am grateful, really i am. but that makes me no less frustrated.) i need to stem the tide of extreme frustration my living at home and dumping all my issues with in matthew's lap has brought to matthew.
speaking of which, i'm really worried. we're renting an apartment together, you know, in the fall, and i'm worried about all kinds of things. especially money. money has always been a touchy issue with me, maybe because my dad was always giving it away. i used to be worse - i used to be the biggest tightwad ever. i'm still pretty bad - i let people spend and spend on me, and then feel guilty when i don't on them. and it's the one subject that can make me cry faster than anything else. well, so dealing with it with matthew worries me. i'm not sure why - i guess i'm worried that i'll be too selfish with 'mine' and we'll end up living off his and he'll have no money. which would suck. but i'm not sure how to prevent myself from doing that. speaking of which - i have so many faults he just has no clue about, or at least has been able to close his eyes to because we haven't been living together. admittedly, we won't be around each other any more time wise - probably less, even, but living together is a whole new experience, rife with opportunities for me to point out exactly what a selfish, manipulative, bitchy person i am. that worries me a lot.
oh, it doesn't worry me that we'll break up, or anything. (well, except at 3am on the occasional white night) love is a choice, and one that we've both made. *mounts soapbox* and let me tell you, love is not that gushy feeling you first get and so many people mistakenly believe that's all there is. and it's not the comfortable feeling that being with someone that knows you inside out provides, though that come along with it. love is a choice. it is a statement that this is a person that i have decided to love. to love. a verb. love is a verb. all this stuff about 'we just fell out of love' and all that is hogwash. sure, it may be 'destined' or whatever for you to be attracted to or compatible with a person, but when it comes right down to it love is a choice. one that you have to keep making, sometimes, until it becomes so much of a habit that suddenly you're fussing over your grandchildren and he's behaving like a five-year-old again and you don't even have to remind yourself that you put up with this behaviour because you've chosen to love this man, you just do. *slowly descends from soapbox* er, where was i? oh, right. matthew and i when we move in together. i don't know, i guess what i'm worried about is that i'll run roughshod over him and his feelings - i have a strong tendency to do that - and he'll never complain, because that's the kind of guy he is, but he'll be unhappy. and i'll sense that, but have no idea why, because i'm clueless like that, and be unhappy. and it'll just spiral downward from there. trust me. we've done it before. only now it has the potential to be much, much worse.
*sigh*
it'll work out, i'm sure. whether we like it or not, the world keeps turning, and nothing stays the same. so this problem will pass. just like my problems with the comments on this stupid page. i'm not sure what's wrong with them, but they're broken. again. maybe kevin can work his magic on them again. :)
sigh. i'm going job-hunting tommorrow. again. it seems i've been everywhere in town, and no one's hiring - partly because two plants closed within the past month and everyone's looking for work, partly because i refuse to work as a waitress, and partly because i look like i'm 12. (no, i'm 21. not 12. and i have a college degree. no, not high school. college. sheesh.) so tommorrow i'm headed to newnan to see what i can find there.
sent off an email to UMD today. i haven't heard from them in a while and was getting a little worried. they still want me, right? if not i'll go crawling to NC State. i'd rather go there anyway, i think. unless i were actually going there, in which case i'd be convinced UMD was the one for me. silly me.
two weeks until emily's wedding. for some reason, i'm really stressed about this. it doesn't matter what these people think of me, it really doesn't. but apparently to me it does. it doesn't help that i've gained forty-five pounds since my senior year, either. ugh. if *i* don't even like myself, how can anyone else? (look at me, the poster child for insecurities, food disorders, and extreme social dysfunction borne of low self esteem)
it's beautiful outside tonight. well, except for the occaisonal burst of gunfire. i think my neighbors are target practicing. i can't tell from which side of our property it's coming from, though, so i don't know if they're practicing for deer hunting or for militia. yay for crazy neighbors. but, as i was saying, it's a beautiful night out tonight. the crickets and the frogs have reached the crazy loudness pitch that requires earplugs to sleep from now 'til september. ok, so not really. but the summer i had my bed in the bay window it did. crazy loud creatures. it's pretty, though.
well, this was a longish entry. and probably entirely uninteresting to anyone but myself. i feel better now though, and that's good enough for me. what else are blogs for?
posted by Kecia 9:28 PM
