The gun that my mother used to carry in her purse is the same one that the Navy Seals used in the Deadliest Warrior season finale for the mid-range weapon
Poetry can be cool sometimes
Han Solo is a sexy man
I don’t like watching TV because it makes me feel so idle. I think, oh, I’ll watch this movie or this TV show so I can be hip — then I feel bad for “just sitting” for half an hour plus. Which is weird because I play video games for a long time, which is “just sitting.” I guess I just feel like I’ve actually done something after a video game.
Catching up on years of fantasy and science fiction literature is not a good idea
I finished the Song of Ice and Fire series the other day. That is, I’ve read all the books that are currently out. Now I get to wait with all the other long-time fans for A Dance With Dragons.
But these books were just incredible. It’s going to be hard to go back to The Wheel of Time Series (seven books to go!) after reading such brutal medieval fantasy where main characters drop like flies. Even though some of the characters I liked died, it made everything seem more realistic versus standard books where said characters are invulnerable to everything (besides emotional stress). I’ve never read a series that was so fueled by the characters. They drive the plot, not the other way around. There’s no quest to save the world, where several heroes are stuck together out of happenstance. Everyone has their own agenda, and while they might seem cliche’d on the surface, there’s a lot more to them.
My favorite characters would have to be Jaime Lannister, Arya Stark, and Daenerys. I always seem to like the arrogant, asshole-ish characters in media. That’s how Jaime’s portrayed at first. He’s still a bit of a dick sometimes, but surprisingly misunderstood. He’s been dubbed “Kingslayer” for killing the king he swore an oath to protect. Catelyn Stark says he has “shit for honor,” which is the general populace’s consensus as well. But as the story goes on, you discover that the king he killed was actually a total prick who shouldn’t have even had that much power due to how batshit insane he was (oh, inbreeding). Jaime likely did the whole world a favor, but no one really knows or cares. And, as you can imagine, no one takes his word on anything anymore.
Also, he pushed a little kid out a window in the first book, like twenty pages in. +50 jerkass points. But I didn’t like Bran anyway, so it’s alright.
Arya Stark. What a badass. (I wonder if this is where Paolini got the name for Eragon?) This little girl goes through so much shit, it’s not even funny. She kills a guy at, what, eight years old or something? Her best friend gets run down by the prince’s bodyguard, she watches her father be executed, and when she almost reaches her mother and older brother after three books, they get killed too and she’s on her own again. Oh, and she got caught once by Westoros’ most brutal knight and watched people get tortured by him and his lackeys. Then she got sent to work at a giant castle and was abused by the guy she did work for.
I’ve heard some people say Arya turns psychotic. I disagree. She’s killed people, yes, and has seen more than an eleven year old should. Her “prayers” each night consist of a list of people that she wants to kill, but they’re all people who seriously deserve it. She also doesn’t actively go after any of these people, either. I think it’s a sort of coping mechanism, promising herself that someday, she’ll get her revenge on these people. But she’s not a psycho assassin or anything. Not yet.
Next up, Daenerys. Incredible character development. She starts out as a scared little 13-year-old girl, abused by her bipolar and rather crazy brother. She’s forced into a marriage with a Dothraki khal, similar to a Mongol lord(?). She comes to love this man, and you see her become stronger and more confident as the story goes on. She and her brother are all that’s left of the Targaryen line, the former rulers of Westoros who were overthrown before the beginning of the series. Her brother is convinced that the Iron Throne belongs to them, but he can’t do anything about it. (That’s why he married her off to the khal — for his army) Their whole lives, the two have been on the run with the brother certain that they are being trailed by the Usurper’s (current king of Westoros) knives. He’s driven incredibly paranoid, and seems to take it all out on poor Dany. He dies eventually, and Daenerys recognizes him for what he truly was — weak and pitiful. The khal she married dies as well, and, going against Dothraki tradition, she takes up his host and begins to gather an army to retake “her” kingdom. She becomes a strong, confident, and wise queen, much better than the current queen of Westoros.
Also, she has dragons. Ballin’.
Of course, there were characters I hated as well. At first I sort of liked Cersei, Jaime’s twin sister. She has a strong will, and is furious about getting the short end of the stick in the world just because she’s a woman. Being the twin of a famous knight only rubbed salt in the wound; She’s grown up seeing the stark difference between a girl and boy in Westoros. But by the end of the latest book, she’s become incredibly paranoid and makes the stupidest decisions that hurt the entire kingdom. She’s spoiled and power-hungry, but doesn’t even know what to do with said power because she’s been chasing after it her whole life, never thinking about the responsibilities she has to carry as well.
I was so happy when Catelyn died. Good God. Her chapters were just full of, “My husband’s dead. My sons are dead. My daughter is dead. My other daughter is a hostage. My dad is dying. No one takes me seriously. I want to die now. Food doesn’t even have taste anymore. I’m sad. No, eldest-son-who-is-leading-a-war-host, forget all of this fighting nonsense and just stop so you won’t die too. Oh, you won’t listen to me. Damn.” The same sort of thing happened with Bran, too. Yeah, getting pushed out a window sucks, but I got sick of him whining about how he wanted to be a real knight, and not a crippled little kid. Compare him to Arya, or Sansa, who’s been abused by her sadistic, 13-year-old king/betrothed. They’ve been going through hell, but neither of them sigh and moan about it all day.
I can’t fucking wait for the TV show.
Sorry I probably took up everyone’s dashboard. I’m done now.
“Never forget what you are, for surely the world will not. Make it your strength. Then it can never be your weakness. Armor yourself in it, and it will never be used to hurt you.”—Tyrion Lannister from the Song of Ice and Fire series by George R. R. Martin
So, today I went to my Filipino stick-fighting class. (how’s that for an intro)
I love these classes, because I feel like I actually learn practical things. I did a few years of Tae Kwon Do, learned how to kick high and flashy, got flexible and in shape and all that, but I still prefer Arnis over it. We learn how to use weapons — which, honestly, in a real fight, you’re going to want at least a stick or something instead of just hands and feet. We learn disarms and take downs, as well as how to use the same techniques we do with weapons empty-handed. I always walk away feeling like I’ve learned something important. Something I can use.
Martial arts have always been a part of my life. I was never into team sports, so that’s what I had instead. I wonder if it makes me aggressive, or maybe less aggressive seeing as martial arts can help you vent? (Like, you know, kicking the shit out something) The same thing applies to video games. I’m usually pretty mellow — if I get mad, it’s for something pretty serious and shit gets real. Otherwise, I’m a laid back kind of gal. I thought this might be due to virtually shooting stuff in the face a lot, or because I get to hit people with sticks every Saturday morning. But don’t those psycho moms swear that this kind of stuff makes their kids go berserk?
My point is, I’ve always wanted to get into an actual fight so I can use all this stuff. I want to kick somebody’s ass.
For a justifiable reason, of course.
Funny thing is, I’ve been having these recurring dreams that I am in a fight. It’s someone who’s pulled a major dick move against me or a friend, which makes dream-Catherine really angry. I never know who it is. There’s a face on this person, but not one I recognize (it’s always a guy for some reason). And I’m usually surrounded by people, too. There’s a bunch of pressure where this person has pulled said douchebag move in front of everyone, so if I don’t retaliate, I’ll be labeled as a wuss and a total failure forever. So then I try and punch this person. Just, you know, a punch. But it never works. My arm is slow and weak, and this crazy knock-out move I was trying to pull feels like a love tap. I try again, and again, but I’m just embarrassing myself further. (It’s okay though, because then I wake up )
There’s so many things I can pull from that dream. I could say that it’s my inner conscious worrying about whether I’m strong or not, worrying that this thing I’ve worked at my whole life is just a waste of time because I’m weak — it could be a gender thing too, I guess, seeing as how that jackass is always a guy. I love being a girl, but martial arts (as well as life in general — I’m not stupid) has shown me that we females need to work harder at self-defense than men do. Besides those insane bodybuilders, we’re weaker than they are. It’s just the truth. We get caught in a dark alley at night? Yeah. Fucked. More or less literally. But these dreams aren’t things that I wake up from scared or feeling helpless, etc. I usually wake up frustrated, or relieved that I actually can throw a punch. This post isn’t about me getting my worst fears out there, though. I usually never worry about that kind of stuff, except apparently in dreams. Some food for thought, though. Which is good for a blog.
I used to have dreams about zombies and aliens and robots and zombie dinosaurs. Honest to God. Can I have more of those, please?
In the game Fallout 3 (more specifically — Miner’s Rest in the Point Lookout DLC), you come across a small boy, Kenny, in an abandoned mine. By the time you actually meet him, you’ve traveled through this spooky underground area with traps and flashing lights and strange voices. I’m a bit of a wuss, so I hate going through it.
He tells you a little bit about himself. He wasn’t born with “the marks,” so his parents tried to keep him hidden in the basement lest the other swampfolk see him. He was pretty much trapped down there his whole life, but eventually ran away and made Miner’s Rest his new home. He says he’s good at fixing things (what do you think he did, stuck in a basement every day?) — which explains all the traps — and is just fine living by himself. I asked him what he did for food. He said that he could “bag a crabman” any time he was hungry, which is definitely more than I could say. The “crabmen” that he talks about are Mirelurks, a common enemy in the game. They’re pretty much giant, bipedal crabs.
But they have the scariest faces ever.
I can kill the feral ghouls in the dark, half-destroyed metro tunnels of DC, no problem. Witches from Left 4 Dead? Cake. Raving splicers from Bioshock? No sweat. But for some reason, Mirelurks scare the crap out of me. It’s their creepy ass faces, and the fact that they charge you and make weird clicking sounds doesn’t help.
But I digress. I’m talking about Kenny here, not the creepy crab faces. Once he’s convinced you’re not going to shoot him up, you can talk to him a little. One of the questions available (d’aawwwww moment) was, “What do you want to be when you grow up, Kenny?” It seems like a silly question, considering the fact that the whole world has been nuked. There aren’t very many choices. (“Hey Kenny, there’s a bright future waiting for you in post-apocalyptic America! What’ll it be — scavenger? Mercenary? Neither of those live long, though. Maybe you could try to join the Brotherhood of Steel? Elder Lyons is a pretty nice guy, but I’m not sure if they trust walk-ins. If only you had access to some education, you’d be able to join the scientists over at Rivet City. Oh, well. Looks like the only careers left are with the raiders, slavers, or merchants.”)
Here’s the whole point of this blog. We’ve all been asked “What do you want to be when you grow up?” But Kenny’s answer was pretty unique — “Look lady, I’m already the only thing I can be. Me!”
Cute, huh? Right now, we’re all so focused on the future. Whether we want to be doctors, professional sports players, musicians, artists, lawyers, whatever, we can’t lose sight of ourselves and our character in the process. (I’m talking to you, you sneaky aspiring lawyers) I guess I could touch on something like the Japanese education system, where kids are just going crazy with their studies and not developing socially, or how it’s better to be happy than rich, but I won’t.
NYLF ended yesterday. But before the speeches and teary goodbyes, I had to drag a suitase about half my weight down the stairs — from the ninth floor to the second.
Stupid thing to do, I know. But there was a big group of us in the dorms waiting for the elevator, and waiting for one would have taken way too long. My roommate and I waited about 20-30 minutes. One girl had been waiting for 40. So I bit the bullet and went off to the stairs, feeling guilty for each step. It wasn’t even my suitcase, it was my parents’. And I was too weak to simply carry it down.
Once we got to the third floor, I thought, Oh good, one more flight to go. I hope I haven’t totally destroyed this suitcase. Then this girl comes up the stairs. I was about to move out of her way and give some sheepish apology when she told me, “No, don’t do that — you’re going to ruin your suitcase!” Then she picks up the damn thing and hauls it down the next flight of stairs for me!
I thanked her, still kind of shocked. Then she went to help the next group of girls pulling all their luggage down the stairs, telling them something similar. What the hell, right? Why was this girl being so nice? I’d like to think that if I had that kind of beastly upper body strength I’d have done the same, but that’s not likely. There was a half hour left to check out and I was way too concerned about getting there on time to help others.
Sorry, Machiavelli. Maybe Anne Frank was right, after all — believing that people really good at heart, despite it all. I’ve always tried to be independent, to carry my own weight (no pun intended) through everything. But this person — whoever she was — really made me stop and think.
Like Penny from Dr. Horrible said—
Just when you feel you’ve almost drowned/You find yourself on solid ground.
“Anyone tells you you can’t be a doctor?Take that piece of hate and put it somewhere in your heart. Use it for fuel. And then ask em what their name is, y’know, for when you come back from medical school and kinda drop your MD badge for them to see.”—James MacKenzie, DO