-wide eyes-

I have been consumed with a new manga obsession. Blame Kate. It's called Death Note and it PWNs all. Bwahaha! Waah. It's too totally PWNful to explain, especially if you're not into manga. Suffice it to say that I will be spending much of my allowance on new volumes, existing ones if I don't get to read the copies Kate has when she leaves for UNC. -shudder- Wow. I am overwhelmed by its coolness.

Nuthin' much...

Nothing much to report here, one of the reasons I haven't said much lately. One thing that'll keep me busy are a) the annotated bibliography for my Civics project due next Monday and b) the Spanish project due Monday. It's really not that much once you get past the panic. 20 sources for the bibliography, some primary. (which is hard to do considering my topic is Pompeii and the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius...) The Spanish thing I can write out the content now and comandeer Mom's laptop to actually type it up, and voi la! Pardon spelling...

We got Radar back! Squeeeeeee! It was one of those don't-dare-to-move-lest-I-break-the-spell moments. We tried calling him inside first, which didn't work. Then we resorted to bribery with food, which was almost foolproof since the poor little bugger hadn't eaten properly since he got out. We scattered treats all around inside the door, and managed to lure him far enough inside to shut the door. We all breathed a big sigh of relief.

Fe.

Sorry I haven't been on, not really much happened. A recap of the time since I last posted and now is: I hate Macs, and storms are frustrating. Not much new, eh?

The Mac story. I typed a paper for Algebra II on the Mac. I made the necesarry adjustments, and decided to print it out on the new scanner-printer-copier we got a while back. Well, Mom and I tinkered around, and found out that we needed the driver disk in order to use the new printer with the Mac, so Mom dug it out and put it in. Guess what? The whatchamacallit on the Mac is too old, so the new printer can't talk to the Mac. I'll remember what the whatchamacallit is eventually. We'd tried to save the document to Mom's jumpdrive and transfer it to her laptop, but that didn't work because Macs are too different from whatever the laptop is. So, we called Dad, the local computer guru. After a lot of frustrated growling and under-the-breath profanity, we managed to burn the document onto a disk so that the laptop could read it, and I got it printed.

Storms. Last night we recieved an official tornado watch, at about 8:30 I think. Supposedly a tornado-strength storm was heading our way. Mom and I went about our buisness as per usual, content with the fact that this house survived Hugo, so we felt safe. At about 11 or so, the storm hit. It was mainly wind, and I know we just got brushed with the tip 'cause when I saw lightning flash, it took a while for the thunder to reach us. I surely hope Radar was all right outside... I'll explain that in a sec. It turns out that Kate's flight was delayed because of that storm system as it moved north, so her flight will come in at about 9 am tomorrow, which means Mom and I won't be able to get her. I'm considering seeing if Ms. Davis will forgive me for missing the game so we can have a family dinner tomorrow night.

Okay, so Radar, our youngest cat and the most recent addition to our zoo, got out sometime between Saturday and Sunday of the week before last. Poor little bugger's been outside ever since, I got a little worried when the wind was howling last night. Anyhow, we know he's outside, or we did. I hope he stuck around. We're waiting on Kate to get back, and when she starts work back up at Claws and Paws, if she does, we'll see of the inn will lend us a cat trpa so we can snag the little booger. Radar is ferel, and will be for the rest of his life, so it's impossible to catch him in the open, poor thing.

-sigh-

Not much today, really. I wore my new earcuff, despite occassionally getting a sore ear. I didn't mention the earcuff last entry, did I? It's kinda like an earring around the cartilage for those who don't have or want a piercing, which makes if perfect for me. It looks like a toering, really. Mine's kinda gold-ish with a gark grey bead, it's simple but pretty. Some of the more ornate ones have intricate frills that can go around the inside of the ear. Mom got one that had a chain connecting the cuff to a stud for actual piercings, it's cool-looking but must be annoying when it falls off.
School looks like this: boring civics, slightly confusing Spanish, boring-when-I-get-it-and-my-classmates-don't algebra II, and semi-interesting English X. We currently have some kind of project going for each class, and one for IB which is like, I'm told, an AP personal project. I've got a head start on this over many of my classmates, since I've already started writing mine. I've stripped everything but the plot away from Shakespear's Romeo and Juliet and re-written it in my own style.
I also have a head start on the English porject, having turned the first stage of the project in already, though it's not due 'til the eigth. The others, heh, I'll get to work on those eventually. Yes, I'm a noted proctastinator, as those who know me personally are well aware of.

Ren Fest!

Whoot, today was the Ren Fest trip! Iwas fun, we went with a long-time friend of mine Kelsey and Jocelyn, her Mom. We got there around half-past ten and left at about five-ish. We meandered our way around the sprawling complex, enjoying ourselves emmensely and blowing cash. I got a cool cap and a few feathers to stick in it once I figured out how, and a pretty rose. I also managed to wheedle my dear, sweet mother into buying me a wooden scimitar-type sword. That was probably the worst mistake she's made this week. The main attraction of the day was the jousting. It was a three-part plot that entailed some fake blood, lots of crashing and banging, and an annoyingly arrogant French character. It started out as a simple tournament to declare a chamion among champions, which was tied at the first show, and ended in a challenge for a duel to the death at the second, ending predictably with the hometown champ winning out in the third show. I finally fixed my cap so the feathers will stay in, though I've had a dull headache since halfway through the ride home.

I dislike cleaning cat cages with a passion.

It never fails, every time I go to Petsmart, I end up cleaning the cat cages. The store has a small side room with glass to let people see inside, which is where Tri County leaves some of their cats for people to gawp at. I end up cleaning these cages out, usually, because I'm one of the few who is willing to do so. Several of the cats dislike being moved, so I end up having to wrap them on a towel or blanket before taking them out. If all the cages are taken up, I pull down a carrier from the shelf-like space created by the top row of cages to stuff the cats in. It's annoying, especially with stubborn, big, or wriggly cats. It is smelly, and stuffy, since there's no ventelation and I keep the door closed to keep any cats that escape from running out the door. I have to scoop all the feces from the litter boxes, refill food and water bowls, clean them out if necessary, and brush litter and other grit from the padded floors if the cats spread it all over the place, which they almost always do. Once I'm done I smell to high heaven and am usually scratched up from irate cats, but I do get the chance to play with some of my favorite cats. My favorite that's here now is a young adult, probably just over a year old, named Sammy Lee. He hates other cats, and isn't overly fond of dogs, but he adores people. He meaws and complains when I don't pay attention to him, but as soon and I unlock and reach into his cage he starts purring like a car motor. He'll sit in my arms for as long as I'll hold him, and often resorts to playing with my hair is he gets bored. I can't resist cuddling him, he's just too sweet to ignore. Kawaii. My latest battle-scar is a doozy that a pair of kittens gave me when I was trying to move them from a top cage to the one below so I could clean it out. I tucked them both under my arms, but one wriggled out backwards and the other forwards, so I had one by the back paw and the other by the shoulder. They started to yowl and flail, so I had to drop them before they hurt themselves. Before they could gather their wits I grabbed both their neckscruffs and plunked them in the temporary cage. (Before you comment about the neckscruff thing, it doesn't hurt them a bit. That's how female cats pick up their young, you know. It makes their bodies relax so they don't flail around and injure themselves, and sends some soothing endorphins through their their systems, so it actually helps.) Anyhow, when those little boogers were struggling, the one in my left arm managed to give me a good scratching on my forearm, drawing a good amount of blood I might add. Hmm, quite the novel I'm writing in the blog as the days progress. Soon enough I could print this out and post a five-volume autobiography. I do hope you realize that I was joking.

-foams at the mouth-

Graargh! I am going to personally strangle the varsity quarterback the first time I get a chance!! -snort snort- We lost, 28-14. About a minute or so until the end of the game, the band started filing out. We knew they wouldn't be able to recover the 14 point gap in that amount of time. -sigh- So much for keeping the bell blue, now it'll be painted green. Yurgh. The loss itself wouldn't be so bad if this wasn't the Battle for the Bell. Kate, if you read this, no commenting. I don't need this rubbed in my face. I might rub my fist into a varsity football player's face, given half a chance, despite the fact that most of them are at least three times my size. -pant- Well, there's my rant. It's pretty mild, so you can expect worse from me. Dum dum duummm! Anyhow, I'm gonna go blow off some steam now. Later peoples.

More about Desert

More stuff about me. I forgot to add it 'cause my brain wasn't in the 'remember things' setting. As one will find in my full profile, I am a short bookworm/computer- and band-geek person, and damn proud!
One can usually find me at home blobbed out in front of the T.V, computer, or on the couch with a book. During marching season I'm at practice on Tuesdays and Thursdays, with games most every Friday and competitions several Saturdays. When I get a respite from competitions, I prefer to spend my Saturdays volunteering with a local animal shelter who takes some of their animals to Petsmart.

Before I go on, I have a few warnings and a side note. -clears throat- Be warned that I am liable to ramble on about something and have it turn into something completely different. If you find that I've done this, don't be alarmed. This is normal, my mind tends to wander over hill and dale when I'm not looking. Also, if I'm in a particularly foul mood, I might begin ranting. I'll try to warn you when this occurs so you can skip over it if you like and not have to trudge through my complaints. Another thing; I am a bad typist and prone to typos. I type fast, but not in the proper style, so you're bound to find a multitude of errors. I'll try to go back over my entries and sort them out, any comments pointing them out would be lovely. Just one more, and I'm done, I swear. I might not post here for several days on end, don't be alarmed. Chances are I'm alive and well, I just forgot about my blog. My brain is like that. Go figure.
To the side note. My beloved seester has a blog on this very site, I'll post a link to it as soon as I figure out how. She is in the last few weeks of a study-abroad trip to Dunedin, New Zealand for UNC Chapel Hill. At the moment she'll be studying and taking final exams so I don't expect that she'll update her blog very often, but you can read up on her experience anyhow.

So, more about mah life. This week is the fabled Battle for the Bell, Huss v.s Trashbrook. Forgive me seester if you read this, I have to use the common Huskie term for Ashbrook. -grin- Anyhow, Since I'm in the band, I will be going. So far, our team is 7-3, whoopee for us, and Trashbrook, to my knowledge, is 1-9. My source is one of my friends who attends Ashbrook and calls a lot. The poor kid seems to have nothing better to do. (Here's where you notice what I meant about rambling.) If Huss looses the bell, at least half the band will ambush and pummel the varsity team mercilessly, myself included. I'm confident we can win. -knocks on wooden desktop-
This Sunday, we are going to Ren Fest! Squee! -is happy- I rarely get to go, but when I do I always have a blast. -grins maniacally-

On to current events!
This week my Algebra II teacher is away, but she arranged a few weeks in advance for groups of students to teach the lessons, and today it was my group's turn. The lesson was pretty open-and-shut, roots of real numbers. I was the one who looked through the lesson when we got the assignment and put together some notes to give and what homework to assign, but I only ended up teaching a small part of the lesson. There are sone students that, despite being bright, have no algebraic (pardon spelling) skill whatsoever. I taught something, and when a few people didn't understand, I handed it over to the rest of my group. When I intergected to correct an error in their method, of which they had several, having obviously not read over the lesson until the night before or even that morning, or not at all, they snapped at me that I'd done my share and to let someone else do something. So, I decided to let them make a mess of things, work it out, and un-confuse the rest of the class, who got even more perplexed listening to my erstwile groupmates making a mess. I just sat in a corner and read my book, content to offer help to hopeless cases who couldn't made head nor tail of the others' methods.
Well, that's my story for today. By the by, did you know what today is la Día de los Muertos? Yes, in Spanish we discovered that today in some Spanish-speaking countries, it is the Day of the Dead, when they honor their dead loved ones by leaving offerings of food at the graves and have a howling good time. Well, I'm all typed out for today, more later.

Nov. 1 '06

Yo peoples. I be Ann. Nickname's Desert. Long story, don't ask. Please call me Desert, that's my preferred online name. I'm a sophmore in high school, calling Hunter Huss my school, an' proud of it! I'm in the band, and enjoying the hell out of it as well. I play flute. Phear me. More later.