Saturday, December 31, 2011
You're all looking forward to the happiness of Rainstorms-posts that will flood your Google Readers and Blogger Dashboards soon, right?
In other news, tomorrow also happens to be the first day of a new year.
2012 is the year of the dragon. My uncle is a dragon. His name is Dragan. I think that is so cool.
2012 marks the beginning of a year in which I want to change a lot. By that, I mean a lot. (More on that later.)
2012 is where the Mesoamerican Long Count calendar ends. Ohnowilltheworldend? We'll have to wait and see. I'd like to graduate, though, so I hope 2013 comes along.
2012 looks pretty. 2012 2012 2012 2012
And uh, yeah! Happy New Year everyone!
Friday, December 30, 2011
- I have a document entitled "musings" that is completely empty. What happened there? o.0
- I shared my 2009 NaNoWriMo novel, Raedan's Heart, with NINE other people. O the shame. That was such a terrible piece of writing. All 33,000 words of it.
- "AP Euro Midterm Study Guide," last modified in April, is still marked unread.
- There is a spreadsheet called "the lees" that contains all our ideas for what my brothers should name their children. (Ginger Lee, Actual Lee, Incredib Lee, Pai Shen Lee, etc.)
- HOW MANY STORIES HAVE I STARTED AND NOT FINISHED!? D:
- I have about four "Untitled document"s in my list. They're all different and really should warrant titles. I guess I'm just too lazy.
- My longest title is "River blindness is most common in Afr..." Inside that document is a lovely short paragraph or two about the parasite on a parasite on a blood-sucking fly that causes river blindness.
- "fairy tale 2," a collaborative effort between me and my brother to write a fairytale, was sadly abandoned more than a year ago. There were some pretty awesome similes in there.
"They would often take much joy in riding through the villages of the land and slicing through the people as one cuts through fruit in an angry orchard."
"Suddenly, like a penguin slipping into the frigid waters of the North Sea, a massive dust cloud appeared upon the horizon."
"Within the cloud rode a dark mass of horsemen. With flags and shields they rode, like a raging iguana that frantically scampers across twigs and leaves to dine upon a colony of ants."
"As he reached the fifty stones' throw mark with a pace like that of a terrified ant that hysterically rushes away from a raging iguana, Xeliyn looked behind him and beheld the multitude of Raiders quickly overtaking him."
- The oldest document in my list is "The Epic Conversation." This was called epic rightly. Not in the way that epic seems to be used most commonly nowadays ("That was an epic dive-catch!") but in the older way. As in, really, really, really long.
It was born of a chat between my good friend Ellie and myself some two years ago, where we each impersonated a character and um, roleplayed? for hours. And that chat, I think, was born of our excitement over how OK is a stick-man when you turn your head to the left. We created two of the OK men, named them, and made them talk to each other.
A choice snippet:
Tom walks a few steps away from Billy after smelling him
Billy: Hey! Whadidya sniff me for??!!
Tom: I didn't 'sniff' you.I simply took notice of your...er...odor...I suggest a nice warm bath...
Tom plugs his nose and gets out his man-perfume
Tom starts squirting it everywhere
Conclusion: Um, I don't really...have one.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
MOM: Boar is a bore.
NATHAN & JEREMY: Hahaha!
ME: Has missed the joke. What? What just happened?
NATHAN: You didn't hear it 'cause you were trying to hog the conversation.
NATHAN & JEREMY: Hahaha!
ME: Hey, snort funny!
MOM: Yeah, stop pigging on your sister.
NATHAN: I ham dying of laughter.
JEREMY: Man, keeping up with you guys is such a hard tusk.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
MOM: Throwing down the bread and whining. Don't say that! You're so mean! Pouts like small child.
"What are you doing?"
"Listening to the wall," she replies, as if it's a perfectly normal thing to do.
She looks up, surprised. "Don't you know? The walls see everything, remember everything."
I lean against the railing and stare at her, wondering what could have possessed the master to think we should let the prisoner roam free through the house. What’s up with our having a prisoner, anyway? No one will tell me.
"And what are the walls saying?"
"They’ve watched for many years," she says seriously, almost wistfully. "When this house was first built, there was happiness here, and lots of people. Then one by one they went out and never came back. I don’t know what happened, but it was terrible. The walls absorbed the sorrow of those few left behind here." The prisoner stands up, running her hand over the wall. She wanders over next to me and places her elbows on the railing with a sigh. "If the house wasn't so big, it wouldn't be so hard to erase the sorrow, replace it with laughter again."
I wonder how she found out. Did the walls really tell her all that?
I've only looked away for a second, but when I glance back she's gone.
Her head pops back up over the railing for a moment. I forgot, she likes to climb around on the stairs, though I can never figure out why.
"There's so much sadness here," she says, "Take care it doesn't swallow you whole."
Monday, December 26, 2011
Because these notes are not just copying down whatever's on the PowerPoint. No, these are notes with annotated illustrations.
I'm sorry, that sounded really pretentious. It's really not that impressive, and I don't annotate everything. I only illustrate the concepts that strike my imagination.
Here are a few examples:
|Archaea: prokaryotes that can live in extremely cold, salty, or hot habitats|
|Lysosomes destroy nonfunctioning organelles by digesting them|
|Stoma: leaf-pores | Stroma: the fluid-filled space between grana in chloroplasts|
|In Photosystem II, the carotenoid pigments pass excited electrons to the main pigment, chlorophyll a.|
|Energy transfers from sunlight to glucose through photosynthesis, which is ingested by other organisms like us, where our cells convert it to ATP through cellular respiration, which is then available to facilitate cell work. And so we live.|
|Apoptosis: programmed cell death when something goes wrong. The cell pulls itself apart, and the fragments are digested by little...thingies.|
Saturday, December 24, 2011
like no other month.
I stand and watch,
and I hear so many voices calling--
buy this, or maybe ask for that,
and after all the shopping,
we can frolic in the snow.
If you're well-behaved,
then Santa brings you things,
unless you don't think he exists.
Then other people give you things,
and you give them things too,
and everyone is positively bursting
with all the holiday spirit--
And this is what we call
I stand and listen,
and I hear a soft voice speak,
telling me a story I've heard before.
Years ago, on another bustling night,
where quiet was all but impossible to find--
innkeepers busy with new guests,
shopkeepers with new customers,
as people traveled near and far--
the angels were singing in the fields.
Peace, they said.
Glory to God and
because Immanuel has come.
So while the world is hurrying and worrying,
I will look upon a Savior,
One who came unnoticed
in the midst of a season more like this
than often we might think.
I find my peace
because a child was born to die
This is what I will know as
Christ the Lord is here.
Friday, December 23, 2011
Contains: ...um...Ireland stereotypes in the extreme? Also sugar.
Mommy doesn't buy Lucky Charms for us very often, but we happen to have a box in the pantry at the moment. I never paid attention to the shapes until this morning, whereupon looking into my bowl I became greatly confused while trying to ascertain what the distorted marshmallow things were supposed to be. So I went to the two most easily accessible sources of information: the Internet and my brother Nathan.
This is what the Internet gave me:
I was less than satisfied.
I liked Nathan's answer a lot more. Even though he didn't get to all of them, because you're lucky (:D) to get what you get in your bowl.
"You see," he said, beginning to pick out the various shapes, "They all have significance.
"This is a Christmas tree...this is a cross...this is a Christian fish...and this is a fat Christmas tree...
"This is the star of Bethlehem...
"This is Noah's rainbow...
"This is the hat that Saint Patrick wore when he drove all the demon snakes out of Ireland...
"This, uh, this is a 'u'...
"And this is one of the magical red balloons that will make your life magical if you get 100 of them in one bowl!"
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Two sit together, staring blankly at the stone wall opposite them. Shriveled bones lie unmoving where before strong hands would stir to weave or spin. One begins to cry.
"Shh," says the other, turning. "Do not give him more tears to take."
A whisper. "How long have we been here?"
"Too long," echoes a third occupant of the room from where she curls in the corner. She has seen her companions only once.
A bowed figure, chained and shackled, pulls madly against his heavy bonds. He screams, a deep rasping cry of despair.
Nobody listens. Nothing comes undone. He screams again.
He never thought he’d long for light, but the darkness has been too much, too long.
A woman, achingly beautiful, sleeps silently, almost peacefully. Three frozen crystals, no more, have dropped from her closed eyes beneath the deep layer of ice that covers her body.
She has been waiting to wake for too long.
A child, playing among the rocks, suddenly stops and gazes into the distance.
"What is it," say her playfellows, "What are you looking at?"
She cannot tell them that the winds have changed, that a storm is coming. She has learned this only from many, many years of experience.
I am much older than all of you, she sometimes remarks to the other children, but always it is soundless.
It has been too long since her voice was heard.
1) Why is the sky green?
2) Why does everyone tell me the sky isn't green?
3) Who first thought of squeezing cow udders and drinking the white stuff?
4) What makes things "cute" and why do people want to "eat" said objects?
5) Why is pink now a girly color when it used to be associated with boys?
6) Who decided that there are 360 degrees in a circle? (Was it the Mayans? Why do we take everything they say so seriously?)
7) Is that squishy-looking blob on my ceiling dead or alive?
8) How is catchy music catchy?
9) why doesnt time go slower whenn I want it too goshhhh
10) What's actually awkward and what's not?
11) Should the thought of growing up be terrifying or exciting?
12) Is it okay for it to be both?
13) Were those last two questions genuine or rhetorical? HMMM.
14) Why does the red-throated loon have such a creepy call?
15) Will I end on an even or an odd number?
16) Is that even a legitimate question to ask?
17) Does anyone care what number I end on?
18) Do I count as "anyone" for that last question?
19) Nineteen or twenty, which sounds prettier?
20) Or should I go by which looks prettier?
OH WHATEVER. Twenty's good enough.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Now you may read on.
I have always been frustrated by awkward conversations with people I have just met, where we must delicately dance around topics in search of a common interest, sometimes without any success at all. In lieu of such potentially agonizing social interactions, I propose that new acquaintances ask each other the following three questions, after which each may walk away with a basic knowledge of the other's disposition.
1) If you could only keep one of your senses, which would it be, and why?
This question serves to provide a sense (heh) of what is important to the recipient. For example, a person who values their sense of hearing the most might be musical, or at least have some sort of interesting story as to why they like it best.
b) Cute tiny animals (like hamsters and baby bunnies), loyal ones (like dogs and horses), or wild free ones (like eagles and tigers)? Why?
This sounds like some sort of test of personality, as in, whatever he/she chooses reflects his/her temperament, but I think it doesn't actually work that way. That would be way too easy. But animals are always a good topic of conversation.
iii) What's the weirdest thing you've ever inhaled?
= Fodder for funny stories. (Laughter helps to bring people together.)
I must give credit where it is due. I shamelessly
Oh, and, I should have mentioned this before: everything here is purely philosophical and lacks field evidence, as I've not had the opportunity to try this myself. You are free to test it out, but keep in mind that it might not work at all. If you happen to do that, please notify me with the results.
Maybe it was some sort of virus brewing since my first signs of a cough on Saturday. Maybe I overexerted myself doing something.
(In retrospect, maybe going iceskating wasn't such a good idea? Oh well, it was such a good time that I don't regret it.)
Whatever it was, I couldn't breathe last night without my lungs hurting like I'd stuck them in a freezer, where they were burning with the cold. It's one of the worst kinds of pains ever, because if you hold your breath, it hurts too in a different way, and you'll probably die. So you're in anguish every few seconds, either way.
It kept me up until roughly five in the morning. The most annoying part of not being able to sleep was that "Come Home" by OneRepublic was stuck in my head. The same song, all night. And my breathing didn't match with the rhythm. Gah.
I was only able to fall asleep when I deliberately pushed the song out of my head and replaced it with another. Or perhaps it wasn't exactly me who replaced it. I had been praying for much of the night--ranging from friends and family to babblings about my life, but by that time it had turned into a desperate repeating of God, I just want to stop hurting, stop the hurting, stop the hurting.
And it was this song that popped into my head:
My heart is filled with a thousand songsI had to stop and think about that. With every breath? Is this perfect for my situation or what?
Proclaiming the glories of Calvary
With every breath, Lord how I long
To sing of Jesus who died for me
Lord take me deeper into the glories of Calvary
But...do I really long to sing of Jesus who died for me? When was the last time I longed to sing about this wonderful gift? When did I cease to be constantly amazed that the very Son of God would die for me?
My greatest problem has already been taken care of, when my sins were nailed to the cross with Him and were thus atoned for.
Sinners find eternal joy in the triumph of your woundsWhat a miracle that I can even speak to God now, that He is my Father and listens to me.
By our Savior's crimson flow, holy wrath has been removed
I lay there thinking about the glories of Calvary, and though the pain in my lungs was still there, I didn't mind it as much. I finally slept with those thoughts on my heart.
I am mostly okay now. My breathing is good and doesn't hurt too much anymore. I don't, however, want to leave the sharp, clear view of the gospel that came with the pain.
A thousand songs I would sing.
And I really did want to sing, but I've lost my voice D:
Saturday, December 17, 2011
That's right, you got it: ME!
Has your Internet experience been missing a little Davina? Is your life incomplete without Davina's blog? Have you been pining for some Davina humor?
Well, never fear, because Davina is here! And that rhymed!
But seriously though...sorry for the eight-month disappearance from the face of the blogosphere. I had almost completely forgotten about the existence of this blog, but I've decided that henceforth it shall be home to short stories and the occasional poem in addition to regular posts. This is to keep me posting even when I think I don't have anything to post.
I will post. Really, I will. Especially because it's Christmas break right now, so you're guaranteed at least two weeks of Davina-spending-time-to-post. Woohoo. I know you're all looking forward to it.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
When I listen to a complete album, I have to listen to it in its proper order every time.
And I end up memorizing this order. The ending of each song flows naturally into the beginning of the next. Most tracks have a few seconds of silence at the end; in this silence, my brain already begins to anticipate the opening sequence of the next song.
It makes me highly agitated when people put albums that I’m familiar with on shuffle. Track 6 coming after Track 9?
It’s perfectly fine, though, if the songs are scattered through a larger playlist.
This album-oriented tendency of mine has the added effect of causing my brain to connect every song with its track number. Which means that if I hear the song even out of its album context, it will still have its number.
Here are some examples of songs that are 5 (these are all from memory):
* “When You Believe” - Songs From the Heart, Celtic Woman
* “Bo Peep Bo Peep” - Breaking Heart, T-ara
* “웃자! (Be Happy)” - Oh!, SNSD
* “Your Name Alone Can Save” - Risen, Sovereign Grace Music
* “Hear The Call of The Kingdom” - In Christ Alone, Keith and Kristyn Getty
* “Something Bad” - Wicked Soundtrack, Original Broadway Cast
* “Hold On” - Heaven and Earth, Phil Wickham
* “Beat Of Your Heart” - Pure, Hayley Westenra
* “Carolina Rua” - Take Me With You, Lynn Hilary
* “One World” - Celtic Woman, Celtic Woman
The last one is a special case. My brain also connects Track 6 (“Ave Maria”) from that album with the number 5. This is because the album has a prologue/intro. When albums have a prologue or intro, all the other tracks will have two numbers--one for their track number without the prologue, and one for their track number with the prologue. Thus, “Isle of Inisfree” from that same album is both 2 and 3; “Danny Boy” is both 3 and 4; “One World” is both 4 and 5; “Ave Maria” is both 5 and 6; and so on.
A similar case occurs in the album Incarnation: Irish Hymns 3, which has a Prologue: “Glorious Light”, the song right after the Prologue, is both 1 and 2.
When I fall asleep listening to an album, I can usually figure out the next morning which song I fell asleep on because it’ll be the last one I remember consciously hearing.
The funny thing is, after more than a decade of living in the same house as my older brother, we only found out recently that we both do this instinctively. Pretty much exactly the same way, too.
THIS HAS BEEN A GLIMPSE INTO THE MIND OF DEL.
STAY TUNED FOR MORE.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
This is Alix. She is my friend, like Emmie.
Alix is possibly the most awesome of us all.
(Well, in my opinion, she is.)
The first thing that makes Alix awesome is her name. It sounds just like the common name Alex, but it is spelled with an ‘i’. You might think that okay, it’s a variant of “Alex”, but it’s not.
It’s actually the French form of “Alice”. How cool is that?
Don’t try the “genius” trick with Alix, either. You’ll be telling the truth again.
Alix knows everything.
Sometimes I think that I should get annoyed at her for acting like a know-it-all, but then I realize that she actually does know it all. Or most of it, at least.
Alix says the most amazing things out of nowhere.
One time she was telling me about when she went hunting and suddenly said, “Seriously, the wind chill was lower than the IQ of an intoxicated banana.”
I would never be able to draw such a creative metaphor in the course of regular conversation.
Alix owns everything.
Alix comes up with the coolest costumes.
Alix has mad dance skills.
Alix is really good at art.
Alix is ridiculously smart, especially in areas pertaining to math.
Alix is a masterful writer.
Alix also has a likable personality.
The world is not fair.
...Oh well, who cares?
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
But I'm still sick enough to have stayed in bed for half the day with an awful headache which may or may not have gone away.
I can feel it lurking, like a gleeful monster that's simply waiting to spring forth again and grab the innards of my head and smash them against an invisible wall, all the while letting out spurts of maniacal laughter which further irritates my eyebrows.
I really don't like it when my eyebrows hurt.
Though, this particular illness (whatever it is) comes with the added bonus of throat problems, such as I've never had before.
When I talk, my voice literally cracks every ten words or so. Sometimes less than that. It also goes into an unexpected whisper at the most interesting times: "Mom, can I drink up the orange juice?" As if "orange juice" was a forbidden thing to say.
To such an immature person as me, it is highly amusing. I end up laughing every time I talk.
Why do I always get sick over school breaks?
*sigh* Well, here's to hoping I get better tomorrow...