Overachieving of the Technological Sort.

Okay, so I'm still learning about this whole blogging deal.
There is a lot that I still don't know, and even more that I can not figure out.
But something excitingly new that I have learned recently?

There is a handy little graph that shows how many visitors you have had.
On a daily and ultimate basis.

151 views?! Exciting! And I thought absolutely no one looked at this.
Happy sighs.

But then? I notice a smallish link near the bottom of the graph, that says "don't track your own page views."

Which means that if you have never before clicked that little link? Every time that you have looked at your own blog, even for a second, that graph has tracked it as a view.

People? Do you have any idea how many times I have looked at my own blog?

I say that about 149 of those views have been my own.

Sigh.

Expect the Unexpected.

So.

As of today, school is officially out.

And let me tell you, I am so glad that Tuesday is over and done with! (That was the day that my three projects were due.) Monday night was one of the most stressful nights of my entire life, -- not even kidding. (**Note: You should probably read my previous entry before this one, because this is an update regaurding that particular entry. Hence, the reason I'm about to link a whole lot of words to that page.)
I was up until 1:30AM running a one-man circus in my bedroom, by which I mean that I had an insane, yet somewhat productive process going to get things done. I slaved over creating the different scenes of my animation video, and while each scene was rendering, I would run over to my bed and work on my self-portrait, and then run back once the scene had saved and could start a new one. (Which allowed me between 1 and 6 minutes of drawing time between scenes.)

Now just because I was up until 1:30AM does not mean that I finished both of these projects at this time.
I actually finished neither before passing out from exhaustion. And as you may have guessed, I strongly regretted my ambitious decisions.
To make a long story short, I "finished" my self-portrait a minute before I had to leave and drive to school.

My computer animation project? Was completed 10 minutes before class, which caused me to be 10 minutes late.
I nearly finished it that night, but still needed to do two more short scenes and add in the sound effects. Since I was so exhausted I just decided that I would complete it during my 2 1/2 hour break before class the next day (The day it was due). So during this break, I got all of the scenes done, but then realised that there were SO many mistakes in the animation. Things were disappearing and reappearing in the background, and the eyelashes and eyebrows on my little robots would vanish from time to time. Not only that, I didn't have enough time to put in the cute little sound effects that I had taken so much time to find and download. So what I desperately did instead, was just extend the first of the 2 songs that I had originally intended for just the beginning and the end of the story, throughout the whole animation. --Which I must mention that this particular song I had never heard before, but upon typing in "Greatest Love songs" In Google, this one was in the top five and the title was appealing, so I used it only after hearing just a short clip of the beginning.
So after putting this mess together, without even watching the finish product, I headed off to class.
---Which meant that I would see my project for the first time along with my fellow peers. Very comforting, indeed.
& for the next hour and a half, while my professor was going through the animations, I was contemplating what excuses I could use while he beats me down about my animation.
Finally after he has gone through everyone else's final project, he asks the dreaded question, "Are there any more projects left that we haven't seen?"

I sheepishly raise my hand, "Mine."
And he clicks on my animation.
My palms are sweaty, my mind is racing, and could swear that my pounding heart could be heard by the guy sitting in the back corner of the room.

Now what happened next I couldn't believe.

During my animation there was laughter and enjoyment being expressed, and an overwhelming vocalizing of manly "Ohhhhhhhhh!'s" at a certain scene that I had created, then at the end? Applause.
And my professor? Happily exclaims "This is fantastic!"

What the heck?


Am I missing something?
Not that I am ungrateful, but seriously?
Isn't this guy supposed to be some sort of animation professional?


I guess my strategy worked much better than I thought, and my genius can now be determined as more than just a mere hypothesis.

My storyline was so great that it surpassed and distracted from my awful animating skills.
I am telling you, pure genius, my friends, pure genius!

Oh, and I must note the equally intriguing results regaurding my Basic Drawing class and final project that I had mentioned earlier. Upon my late night drawing escapade I came across the written assignment that was tucked away in my art box, never to be looked at. So I decided to look it over and make sure that I included all that was expected of me with this drawing.

And my discovery?

We were to use only the mediums that we had used in class this semester, which were: Charcoal, graphite, this crayon type pencil, or ink. -- so pretty much it was to be black and white.

-Gulp-

My whole portrait was done in colored pencils.

If I were ever the head-banging-on-the-wall type of person?
This would call for some serious self-inflicted pain of the head sort.

So the next day I go to class and dread hanging up my drawing on the Critique wall, but I pin it up anyway, and it stands out in it's colorful glory amongst all of the black and white portraits. When I first arrived to class I spoke with my professor and let him know that I failed miserably at following the requirements, and surprisingly, he told me that it is okay and not to worry. However, when I nervously went up to the wall to point out my portrait, he said, "You broke the rules."

Um, excuse me?

Did I just hear what I thought I heard?
I believe you just told me that it was okay?

Thankfully, he continued, "But it's okay. I had wanted you guys to use what you had learned throughout the semester, but it's not that big of a deal."

Major sigh of relief.

Now, as for the winner of this unsaid drawing contest?

Not the girl to the right, and not the girl to the left...

And most certainly not me.

"So who?!" You ask?

It seems as though there was an unanticipated contender in this competition.

But the victor was actually the girl across the classroom.

Yes.

I was flabbergasted.

Her self-portrait was utterly AMAZING.
My professor even commented that he was not even as good her age.

-Sigh-

Why do I even try?

Days like these make me think I am going mad.

Hello you!

Long time no update! :)

Currently I am posted at my computer in my sweat pants and a sweatshirt, hair in a messy pony-tail, no make up, coffee in one hand, and pop tart occasionally in the other while I am typing up this blog. Definitely a sight for sore eyes, if you know what I mean. & If you happen to be wondering why I am not at work on a Monday morning? The joke's on you, because I am.

And it's just been one of those days.

Things have been going fairly well lately, if you count being stressed, exhausted, and not being ready for finals as things going well. Which--I do. School is supposed produce this sort of atmosphere. Right? I say, yes.
However, the light at the tunnel? Four more days. Yes, just four more lovely days my friend.
Then it's all over. Done. Fin.

Until January, that is.

At this present point in time I have my photography final project completed, and two other projects remain. One: my overindulgent self portrait for my basic drawing class. Which I cringe at drawing, because it makes me feel so narcissistic. Although, I think I was a little too ambitious with this one, hence, the reason that I am stressing. However, there is an unsaid presence of drawing competition in my classroom, the whole "elephant-in-the-room" concept, regarding who draws the best between three particular girls. Myself, the girl that sits to the right of me, and the girl that sits to the left of me. Ironically we are all clumped together in a not-so-basic-drawing trio, suggesting that maybe great minds do think alike. (Although I do know better than that, because there is a story behind how I unwillingly got that seat. But this is a story for another day.)

I digress.

I, my friends, am determined to win.

& Because of this, I shall continue the ambitious drawing. Even if by the time it is turned in, it looks nothing like me because my hair has been torn out and my eyes are bloodshot from lack of sleep. Ha ha!
Victory in the making.

(Also, I don't think I did so hot in my sketchbook entries this time, so I need to make up for some points lost.)

I even have this little beauty sitting right behind me as I contemplate working on it. The main reason for the contemplating being that I am uncomfortable with busting out a gigantic glorified drawing of myself. I cannot ruin my good standing with my co-workers and have them think that I am some vain person! Although, maybe the sweats will balance it all out.
My other final project that is due (on the same day, double whammy) is for my computer class. Our task is to create a storyline using a creature that we created, and animate it along with inserting sound effects and music. Sounds fun, right? Wrong.
And because I hate this class, this computer program, and this project, I have chosen to do the simplest things possible while creating a storyline that avoids as many animation issues as possible. By which I know that I am genius because my professor, upon discussing my idea for my project, loves it, and seems not to have detected my higher-level-animation-avoiding, strategies. I do hope that this element of distraction carries on over to finals day once he actually sees my animation.
Just like watching a movie with horrible actors, yet has a great plot: halfway through the movie you forget how awful the acting really is and start enjoying it because the story is good.
This is my hope.
So far I have three scenes done. I don't even know how many more I have to go, because I am just making this up as I go along. -- Which may attribute to my finals-centered stress. This I am sure.
But if I have learned anything over the years, I have learned that if you are determined enough, you can get everything done.
The question now is, am I determined enough?
I say, yes!

Sincerely,
Yours Truly

P.S. If you're wondering why I sound so insane in this particular entry? The answer is that at this current moment, I feel insane. And humorous. So this is why. And if you are not wondering? Than please disregard this post script. And yes, P.S. stands for post script. I know this because I just looked it up.

Thanksgiving is More Than Just a Holiday.

Hm... It's been a little while since I've posted. Not that anyone really reads this, but still. Ha.

I've had several things that I've been dying to update about, but at this present moment in time?
I can't remember a single one of them.

So in substitution of these ideas I have decided to share a revelation I had yesterday while driving to work.
At first it was perceived as pure misfortune on my end, but today I thought back on it in a different, brighter light.

Okay, to set the stage:
(dramatic lighting, please!)

So I'm driving to work, and I'm almost running late. My heart is beating and mind is racing with the hopes of finding a close parking spot and making it in on time, because I feel that my reputation is at stake. (Which it probably was not, but I have this desire to remain in good standing with my employers.) Anyway, so I'm driving, and I arrive at the stoplight right before the parking lot, which often decides whether I will be late or not because sometimes it decides that it likes red a lot better than it likes green... and it is.... green! Yes!
Now, I hope with all of my heart that there will be a space open for me on the street against the school so I could have a quick one minute walk from my car into the office and be right on time, verses having to park across the street and be about 3 minutes late.
Suddenly, my heart leaps. There is a space open in my desired parking area! It is the absolute last one in the row, still being somewhat far from the office, but it was much better than parking in the lot.
But wait! Low and behold, I spot another open space that is much closer to my building, so I ditch the first one and continue on driving with my heart leaping with joy.
But then...

A Motorcycle.

As I am happily turning into my close-to-the-office parking space, I see the little joy that deceptively occupies it. Making it no longer free.

Oh how I despise these motorized creations.

So now, seeing that I cannot reverse and go back into the original space because of traffic behind me, I am now forced to park in the dreaded parking lot, filled with far-ness and lateness because of students with a lack of parking skills who like to put their cars in such a way that makes it quite difficult for other students to park their vehicles next to them. (But I will not get into this because apparently I'm not such a skilled parker myself.)
I look at the clock: 7:58am, and I need to open the center up at 8am.
I currently have two more minutes to park, cross the traffic ridden street, go down the stairs and down the hall to the office.
Did I make it?
Barely.
Once I parked I made a mad dash through the obstacles described above and into the office at 8:01am.
Not too bad, I suppose.
Anyhow:

I bet you are wondering where my little revelation fits in?
Well, I'll tell you.

When you apply this whole parking situation to life, it actually brings about a very interesting point.

Sometimes God gives us opportunities or gifts to either take or reject, and sometimes these opportunities are good, but aren't exactly what we want them to be. Maybe they don't exactly reach our goals in the ways that we'd like them to, or are somewhat far from them, or maybe they just aren't our ideal desires.
& Because of this, we may be unsatisfied and go in search of something better than what was given to us.
If we find it, we ditch the first opportunity and go for the second one, fantasizing about how much better it will be and happier it will make us. Yet, we soon discover that we were blind to the things that were hidden from us, and realize that this opportunity wasn't as great as we expected... Or even good at all.

And now?

We are left with nothing.

Nothing but tantalizing regret and the simple wish that we were thankful for what we had in the first place.

It is important to be thankful.
For the things that we have, and the people that we have.
& I'm saying this more to myself than to anyone else, because I know I have a lot of thanking to do.
God has blessed me in many, many ways.
More ways than I even deserved.
And for this, I am ever so thankful.



Wow, I just realised that this idea and post is in perfect timing for the Thanksgiving Holiday! Just goes to show that God is always right on time!
:)

So be thankful people!

Sincerely, Yours Truly

Death Isn't the End, but Only the Beginning.

On Monday I found out that my great grandmother passed away.

This particular grandmother was my mother's grandmother, and although I didn't know her all that well, I still knew her.

Knew her enough to feel The Sad.

The Sad is the same kind of sorrow that I feel whenever someone I love passes, no matter the relationship. Sometimes it's stronger than others, but the general feeling is always the same.

It's that gripping feeling in your stomach, and that instantaneous drop of the heart when your mind finally processes what you've just been told, and time seems to freeze for a beat or two.

This person is no longer on this Earth, and you'll never see them again as long as you live.

It can best be described as a feeling of disbelief.

A concept that takes days, months, sometimes even years to grasp.
Gone?

Gone.

Her death brought about memories of when my great grandmother on my father's side passed away about a year ago, a memory that is still so fresh. A woman that I had been close to most of my life, who I even counted as my best friend in my younger years. She was my favorite playmate and had imagination as vivid as a child's. Luckily for me, she lived around the corner from our house, and mom took me there nearly every day to play.

Grandma walked with a waddle, spoke with a thick Hawaiian accent, and had a God given gift to make people laugh no matter the situation. However, she also had the feistiest temper I've ever seen.
She was one of those people that you hoped with all of your heart to be like when you were in your elder ages.

Every night, even as a little girl, I asked God to keep her alive long enough to at least see me graduate high school and make it into College. I wanted to make Grandma proud.
Although uneducated, in her time, it was an accomplishment to make it into middle school. Which she did, and often bragged that she made it "all the way to the sixth grade." But her dream for me was to go to college, and graduate with a Bachelor's degree like my great aunt did.

Into my high school years Grandma started getting sick, and then began having slight heart attacks. Then it turned into mild strokes, and later, signs of Alzheimer's Disease.
It got to the point where an ambulance came to get her at least once a week.

This was a scary time.

Eventually, we had to no choice but to move her to an elderly home where she could be monitored daily.

A place she could be safe.

Years passed, and her memory of us faded more and more.
She faded more and more.
When we would visit, she wouldn't remember my parents, but whenever she saw myself or my brother, her eyes lit up and a cascading smile spread across her face. Although she could no longer talk because of the damage done by one of her strokes, she would still express herself with that bright smile and the squeezing of our hands and cheeks.

Then one particular day, one that I don't think I'll ever forget, my dad and I visited one last time.

When we entered into her room, there was grandma, lieing on her bed.
No recognition ignited her eyes, no bright smile across her face.
Just, emptiness.
Her once bright blue eyes were now cold and deep, almost like you could see into her very soul.

A soul that was tired.

But these eyes never left mine. They looked at me with such a compassionate desire to remember, but not enough energy to try.
I remember not being able to look away, yet a fear gripped me, a peril that took my breath away.
This wasn't my grandmother, I didn't know who this was.

Her straight, gray hair was scattered around her head on the pillow beneath her, and the lively face that I always remembered was now sunken in; almost skeleton like.
I felt like I was staring back into the eyes of the deceased.

This is when I knew. I knew it would be soon.

On April 12, 2009, Easter morning, I had a dream that I went into my great aunt's backyard and saw my great uncle, who actually had passed away six months earlier, smiling and cleaning the figure-eight-shaped pool. On the other side of the pool was a big screen TV that was playing supposed memories from my past, involving that particular uncle and my great grandmother. On the other side of the pool, sitting in a lawn chair and watching the TV was my great grandmother, and she was laughing at the various memories that were playing on the screen. I walked over to grandma and sat down next to her.
She looked at me and told me that she had go.
I remember feeling upset, and begging her to stay and watch more memories with me.
But she didn't. She needed to leave.

I was awaken by my mom getting into bed next to me. When I opened my eyes, She looked at me, eyes hesitant. Eventually she spoke, "Grandma passed away this morning."

Silence.

The Sad crept in.

"She did?"
"Yes, the nurses went in to check on her and she just wasn't breathing anymore."

I remembered my last visit with grandma, and also of the dream that I had had that night.
I told her about it, and she was stunned.
To this day we both think that God had used the dream to prepare me for the news that I would be receiving that morning.

I'd like to think so. That seems like such a sweet, gentle gesture.

My grandma Eva... Born on July 4th, 1915, and going home on April 12, 2009, Easter morning.
I think that just goes to show how special she was.

As for mom's grandma, reality still hasn't fully hit me yet.
At the moment, I don't feel anything regaurding her death.
I'm still living amongst those numbing frozen moments in time.

I speculate that realization will strike once we attend her funeral, when it emotionally becomes final. Official. Truth.

Then? Then I will feel.

Sincerely, Yours Truly

P.S. As for my prayer? Grandma Eva passed away during my sophomore year of college. She got to see me graduate, and even make it through two years of higher education.

& She was exceedingly proud of her great granddaughter.





Thank you Lord for allowing me that special, special wish.

A fresh start, a new beginning.

I was browsing through some of my old Myspace blog posts that I had written long before I graduated into blogger land, and I found this simple paragraph that I had originally wrote for my "about me," but then saved it as a blog. I remember writing this when I was about 17, and in an all time high in my life.
Well anyway, here it is:

The truth is, I live in a fairytale land. A place full of imagination and wonder, where the world is perfect and everything is possible. It is as equally captivating as it is beautiful. The aspect of me that houses my inner child. This is the place where I draw my inspiration from, the place that keeps me sane in this dreadful world. It is the same place that we all knew of as children, but slowly forgot about as we grew older. Sort of the whole "Neverland" Concept. Only, I never forgot how to fly.

After reading this tonight, I've realized something.

In the last few years? I have forgotten how to fly.
It's like slowly over time this knowledge fades ever so gently to the back of your mind, so far back that you just can't seem to retrieve it. And it happens so slowly that you don't even notice until it's gone.
Since I've gotten older and gone into college, I suppose I've grown up and forgotten about the Neverland.
The Neverland that was so dreamy and possible. It's hard to even remember what it looked like.

Now? My world is composed of nothing more than work, school, church and balancing personal relationships.

And I can't help but notice that I've gotten so negative over the years. Others have noticed, too.

It's quite a contrast from someone who used to be so care free and lovely.


Now I'm not saying that I regret that my priorities have changed.
I'm thrilled that I finally have my head out of the clouds when it comes to certain matters.
I just miss the imagination that was in my life.

The constant inspiration and excitement of... Well? Thinking.
Thinking about the unthought of. The deeper part of life.
Getting excited about the little things.
This is what I used to thrive on.

I miss that.

I've become so flat and superficial lately. So boring. So... Old.

And I'm too young to be old.

So.....
My new personal project, starting tonight, is to revive that old part of me, and bring her back into existance.

No more negativity, no more impossibles.

More imagination, more inspiration, more dedication, more appreciation.

This is a fresh start, a new beginning.

Sincerely, Yours Truly

All Sorts of Dead.

So it's Day 2 of P90X.

I don't think I've ever been so tired in my entire life.

I was going to update on the first day to let you all know how it went, but I didn't have enough time to sit down and do it. But anyway, the first day wasn't so bad. Well, it was, but not like I thought it would be.
We worked on our arms, chest and back, and did something called the "Ab Ripper" (Doesn't that sound enticing?)

My arms and abs were exhausted, but not like today.

Today, everything is exhausted.

Ever heard of Plyometrics? For some reason I continue to call it Pyrometrics, which is completely wrong, because Pyro means fire. But wouldn't that be something? "Exercise with Fire!" Now that would be one serious workout... One that I don't think even the P90x would attempt.
I'd like to tell them that to bring their ego down a few notches.

Anyway, I digress.

I've never heard Plyometrics until yesterday... & We've gotten to know each other very well. Plyomentrics? Not sympathetic. Not easy-going. Not fun.

& Just in case you're wondering exactly what this is, here's a good definition:

'Plyometrics (also known as "plyos") is a type of exercise training designed to produce fast, powerful movements, and improve the functions of the nervous system, generally for the purpose of improving performance in sports. Plyometric movements, in which a muscle is loaded and then contracted in rapid sequence, use the strength, elasticity and innervation of muscle and surrounding tissues to jump higher, run faster, throw farther, or hit harder, depending on the desired training goal. Plyometrics is used to increase the speed or force of muscular contractions, providing explosiveness for a variety of sport-specific activities.' (Wikipedia)

So in other words, there is a whole lot of constant jumping, squatting, kicking, lunging, and various other uncomfortable movements.

At the end of our hour session we were so sweaty that all 6 of us looked like we had just run through the backyard sprinklers.

Although, I do have to say that I was having a very grumpy day yesterday and really didn't want to do the work out, but doing it actually made me feel better. Mostly because I always laugh when I work out with other people, which might sound strange, but some of the things we do just look so silly. & It doesn't help that the instructor on the DVD that we're following has a very cheesy sense of humor, and feels the need to constantly remind us that "this workout isn't any workout, it's the P90X! And X stands for Extreme!"

Snort!

So anyway, today, I'm all sorts of dead.
Not dead, dead, but exhausted dead. The "don't want to move,"  kind of dead. Well more like, "can't move," kind of dead.
& Today, we get to do it all over again. Yay! (Tomorrow I might really be dead.)
Not fun, but necessary.

"Because this is the P90x!"

Well, I better get off here and find something more productive to do.
Not sure what that will be just yet, but I'm a good finder.
I hope your day is filled with sweets and fun!

Sincerely,
  Yours Truly

P.S. Mr/Ms. Not Help Him comes into the Center today at 3.
Too bad I get off at 12. :( So close!