Character quote, continuation of the gravi thing, and more of the SFP
So far, so good. :)
On with the entry!
--
"Let me get this straight," Madison said, her expression one of disbelief. "You mean to tell me, tell us, that Melissa Cronkhite, the Melissa Cronkhite, the author of Scientific Expressions and Unicorn's Way . . . is your mom."
"Yes," Jo replied, nodding her head. She had to refrain from laughing. Her friends' shock was a bit on the amusing side. Mel and Aimee were staring at her, their eyes wide and their jaws hanging open slightly.
Their reactions were to be expected, however. Not very many people could say they went to school with the child of his, or her, favourite artist or writer.
'Well, some people probably could,' Jo quickly amended to herself. Her family lived in Philadelphia, and many famous people, like M. Night Shyamalan, lived there just as they did in other places, like New York City and Los Angeles. Not all children were like Jo, and she understood that as well. There were some children out there who liked to brag about who their parents were so it was entirely possible for quite a few people to say to they knew or grew up with the child of a celebrity.
Jo had been taught to be modest, however, and she had learned when she was little just how manipulating some people could be. There had been many children who had wanted to be her friends when they'd learned she was the daughter of a famous person. The friendships had never lasted long, which had suited Jo fine for the most part. After all, she wanted people to like her for her, not her family's celebrity status. The three girls before her Jo knew she could trust to not treat her any differently, and so far they had not really disappointed her, either.
Madison shook her head. While Mel and Aimee had been stunned into silence, Madison had not. She'd begun asking questions the moment Jo had told her and Aimee what she'd confessed on the transit train to Mel. Melissa Cronkhite was, in fact, Jo's mother. Some of the questions were repetitious, but Jo knew people tended to that when faced with a shocking situation or revelation.
"But your last name is O'Connell," Madison pointed out. "Melissa's last name is Cronkhite. Did she go straight or something somewhere along her career?"
Now Jo couldn't help but laugh. It was no secret that famous science fiction author Melissa Cronkhite was a lesbian, and she and her life partner had been together for nearly twenty-five years. It was common knowledge, really.
"No," Jo stated, leaning against her room's heater. "Cronkhite is her professional name. Her real name is Melissa Daphne O'Connell. The Cronkhite actually comes from my grandma. It was her maiden name before she married my grandpa."
"Then that makes Torie Cronkhite your grandmother . . . and Ryan O'Connell your grandfather?"
"Yeah," she answered, smiling. The memories of the last few days danced along the edges of her mind. "Ryan O'Connell is my grandfather and Torie Cronkhite is my grandmother, and my grandma's one the craziest yet most loving people I've ever known. My mom's the same way, too. It's awesome."
Jo sat back up and gazed at her friends.
"I know you're probably thinking I'm just saying all of these things to impress you. After all, we have so many things in common, and we all love my mom's and grandma's works. My grandpa, he's still a damned good artist, even after all these years. It's an association any enthusiast would love to brag about. But think about this." Jo paused for a moment to catch her breath. It was one way she was like her grandmother. Talking quickly had a tendency to leave her and her grandmother quite breathless. Her grandfather had to constantly remind her grandmother to just relax when trying to explain things. Then Jo continued with what she wanted to say. "If I'd wanted to impress you, or anyone else, I would have made it known when I first came to the university about who my mom and grandparents are."
"We didn't think you were making this up or saying things like this to impress us," Madison said, finally allowing herself to smile in light of Jo's revelations. "It's just a little shocking to hear, you know? I never would have thought in a million years you were related to either Melissa or Torie or even Ryan. It isn't something one expects to hear."
"I know, and I can believe it," Jo replied with a nod of her head. She knew she'd be just as shocked as they were if someone had told her he, or she, were the child and grandchild of her favourite author. Then again, her absolute favourite authors were her mom and her grandmother, and her absolute favourite artists were her grandfather and her uncle Daisuke. All other novelists and painters were simply icing on the cake for Jo.
"Do they expect you to follow in their footsteps?" Mel inquired, ending her silence. She sounded a little concerned, in Jo's opinion, and she could understand why. A lot of people did expect the children of famous people to be just like their famous parent.
"No. They don't, actually."
"They don't?" Mel sounded surprised and possibly even relieved. Jo's smile grew a little warmer.
"No." Jo shook her head as she spoke. "I mean, I think they'd like it if I did, but they don't expect it of me. As I said, my grandma is one of the craziest people I know. If I was happy bussing tables and living off of minimum wage, she'd be happy for me. She and my mom want me to follow my dreams and do what it is that keep me balanced in life."
"That is so cool!" Aimee murmured, her tone one of awe and admiration. "Your mom and grandma sound like so much fun! You're so lucky, you know that?"
"Actually, I do!" Jo exclaimed with a laugh. She reached for a can of Coke. She'd grown up drinking the stuff, thanks to her grandma and mom. "I love them both a lot. Grandpa, too!"
"Ryan O'Connell," Madison said.
"Yeah."
"I didn't want to say this before, but, um, he's kind of scary looking," Madison murmured. "I've seen photos of him with Torie Cronkhite. He never smiles. It's kind of creepy."
"It just depends on what he's looking at," Jo replied, her tone soft. "Or who. He and Grandma have been together for forty-three years, and he always smiles when he looks at her. He says he loves her just as much now as he did when they first got together. Maybe even more. He can't say for certain. But he does love her, and it shows every time I see them together. They are truly awesome."
"He still looks scary," Madison said, shivering a little. Jo caught it from the corner of her eye. "But he's still cool. I simply love how he paints dragons and wizards and unicorns. I especially love his unicorns. They're so realistic, like they're right there when he's painting them onto his canvas, and his work is just so . . . so . . . wow! I'd almost swear they were real!"
Their discussion quickly generated into talk about Ryan O'Connell's artwork, and his possible influences for everything he had accomplished so far. Jo had never asked her grandfather where he found his inspiration so she couldn't tell her friends anything concrete. She suspected, though, her grandmother had a great impact on everything her grandfather did. They affected each other in every other way, why not their work as well? Over all, it didn't really matter. They were having fun on a Sunday night, until their classes resumed the next day, and it was just the way Jo liked it.
--
“My idea of torment? Why, making men blush, of course! I’m not as good at it as Torie but I am learning!” -- Sheena Hernandez, The Strange Things Women Talk About
I like that quote. ^_^
--
Now to get into the book reviews . . . there will be some spoilers. Just so people are forewarned. ^_^
First of all, I must confess, I do not have this particular book handy. My brother came home for Thanksgiving and I loaned it to him so he could read it. I'm sure you can find an excerpt or something at Amazon.com or at Borders. Even your local library might have something on this book.
Anyway, to start this off, I must comment on the authors. As indicated by the last name, it is a husband and wife team. Some of you may recognize David Eddings' name from other pieces, such as The Diamond Throne, The Ruby Knight, and The Guardians of the West. David Eddings has been almost as prolific as Stephen King has been, and, to me, is one of the best science fiction and fantasy authors around. (The first book I read by Eddings was The Diamond Throne.) It really is fascinating to see husband and wife collaborating on piece, and they do work quite well together. Their writing styles seemed to be quite the same. In other words, you really can't tell who wrote what as you're reading this piece.
The Redemption of Althalas is the story of a thief who thinks his luck has run out on him. He receives an offer to retrieve a book from The House at the End of World, and ends up on a strange adventure in which he meets a Goddess by the name of Dweaia. Over the course of the book, Althalas finds himself in the middle of a struggle between Dweaia and her younger brother. As is typical in stories like this, the fate of the world depends on Dweaia, Althalas, and four other people needed to combat the forces of "evil."
Dweaia, Althalas, and their four companions come together within the first ten chapters. The rest of the book is about how each of them has to deal with a particular kind of enemy, the battles fought in between, and how the most unlikely of people come together to become a strangely knit family.
The pace of the story, at first, might seem like it's a little fast. To me, it started out slow but then picked up as the chapters continued on. It's also quite humourous how the Goddess Dweaia (in the guise of a black cat named Emerald) is trying to break Althalas of his thieving ways but isn't entirely successful. Althalas is a thief at heart, and ends up passing on some of his skills to the youngest of the "family."
This book is quite long, in paperback form. I believe it's around 792 pages. On a scale of 1 to 10, 10 being excellent, I'd have to give this book an 8.5. While I like David Eddings, the fact I had to start this book three times to finally finish it is weighing in. It started out slow, as I said, but then picked up. There are many enjoyable moments to make up for the slow pace.
Do I recommend this book? Yes. I do. If I didn't, I wouldn't have loaned it to my brother so he can read it. ;)
--
And I think I'll toss in a game review as well. ;) I'm in a science fiction/fantasy mood. lol
I've spoken of this game before and how it was a bit of a disappointment for me to play. I'd started to play it, when I thought there wasn't much left for me to do in Dragon Quest VIII: Journey of the Cursed King, which I'm back to playing.
Graphically speaking, this game is good. There are sequences that run on their own, and play like you're watching a cartoon or an anime. Even the plotline behind it is good, and it's quite challenging to play. It also isn't a turn-based game, a plus for those who don't like turn-based games.
However, I don't care for the voices they found for Max, the hero of the game, or how they had him play out at times. I like my heros strong and not complaining. And not realizing their true heroes at their core. Max, if he gets hit by an enemy, cries out, "No way!" at times, and that's aggravating. Heroes fight. Villains fight. That's how a game should be played. I had to shut off the voices for most of the game, I couldn't stand them.
I also don't care for not having control over the secondary characters in the battles. I ended up dead far too many times because Maribelle, or whatever her name is, squeezed out strong characters to head into battle and used the wrong spells on an enemy (i.e., using fire-based attacks on fire-based enemies).
Overall, I do recommend this game. The battles are very realistic, and it's interesting to see the different weapons Max can wield. The downside: You can only arm Max. Everyone else has what he or she needs, and you can't improve anything they carry. On a scale of 1 to 10, I give it a 6. If you can find it, give it a whirl and make up your own mind. :)
--
And continuing from the drabble piece yesterday . . .
"Facing a bitter truth?" Eiri echoed, raising an eyebrow at his former lover. A frown touched his features, and he rose to his feet. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means," Shuichi said with a sigh, "that I'm waking up, I guess, to everything around me. I don't know. I can't explain it."
Eiri held out his arms to Shuichi. Though they were no longer lovers, every now and then they needed someone to hold, someone to comfort them and to say the things they needed to hear. Whether they wanted to hold or be held, or to hear harsh words was another story entirely, but theirs had always been an odd relationship. He waited.
Reluctantly, Shuichi crossed the room, tears forming in his eyes and streaming down his cheeks. He didn't run to Eiri anymore or fling himself at the author. Those days were over, and had been for several months now. Eiri had no regrets. Rather, he didn't have many regrets about the end of his and Shuichi's relationship. It had had to come to end, after all. There were no such things as happy endings in real life. Every now and then, he'd wonder what life would be like if they hadn't agreed to go separate ways. Then he'd scoff at himself and firmly scold the side that missed Shuichi to forget about it. The road not taken did not apply to them, and hadn't for a long time now.
Once Shuichi was in his arms, Eiri wrapped them tightly around the younger man and closed his eyes. The lithe form pressed next to him trembled slightly, and sobs started to pour forth at a slow rate.
As his former lover cried himself out, Eiri steered them to the closest wall. These situations never happened frequently, but the two had found it a lot easier just to stay in one room and lean against a while, Shuichi nestled comfortably in Eiri's arms. It was how they ended up when the feelings of loneliness and self-loathing hit them, and this time was no different.
Sure enough, half an hour later, Eiri's back rested against the wall. Shuichi's head lay against his chest, the vocalist finally shedding the last of his tears. Now that the waterworks were over, discussions could begin in earnest.
"What's going on, Shuichi?"
"Nothing, anymore."
"Anymore?" Eiri raised an eyebrow at that.
"Yeah . . ." Shuichi let out a sigh and adjusted himself, sitting up a little straighter than before. Amethyst eyes gazed up at him. "I've made some decisions, Eiri. Some big ones, and a lot of people are going to hate me for what I'm about to do."
"Is that what's bothering you?"
"In a way, yes," came the reply. Shuichi lowered his gaze. "Things are just getting to be so crazy anymore. I feel like I can't even breathe even though I know I am. I can feel my chest move each time I take a breath, but it doesn't feel like I'm getting enough air. I don't understand it."
"How long?"
Shuichi paused then drew a deep breath.
"Three months now."
"And it never occurred to you you might be having a panic attack?" Eiri inquired.
"It did."
"Then why . . ."
"Because they're not panic attacks. I've already talked to someone about this. I'm not having panic attacks. My chest never hurts when the feeling of not being able to breathe hits. I just can't breathe."
"So what's been going on to cause this?"
Shuichi drew a deep breath . . .
~tbc~
--
And I'm reaching back in time here by talking about this song. :)
The Longest Time is one of the best acapella-style love ballads I've ever heard. I'm sure there are more out there but this one is on the top of my favourites. For good reason, too. The only instrument you hear on this piece is the bass guitar (I love bass guitars), and the lyrics are moving in their simplistic nature.
"If you said goodbye to me tonight/ there would still be music left to write/ what else could I do?/ I'm so inspired by you./ That hasn't happened for the longest time."
I'm not sure if Billy Joel was writing about Christie Brinkley at the time when he recorded this song, but then I don't think it matters much. Any guy could play this for someone he really likes, and it'll still mean the same thing.
It is always possible to be happy and find your inspiration somewhere.
I also like how it can fit in with some of my favourite fandoms, like Gravitation. -smirk- It reminds me of Tohma Seguchi.
Strange, huh?
--
And for something a little different and something I wouldn't normally do . . . I'm going to tell everyone a little bit about myself. Run while you still can. ;)
The basics: I was born on a Saturday. October 1, 1977, to be exact. My place of birth was General Hospital in Marquette, Michigan. (The hospital exists in a different manner now. From what I understand, it's no longer called General Hospital.) I will not give out the names of my parents. That information, dear friends, is classified and known only to those I'm extremely close to.
I am the second born child to my parents, but I'm also the oldest child. My sister passed away within minutes of her birth (she was born prematurely). I have one brother through my mom and dad in addition to a deceased older sister, one stepbrother (through my stepdad), an adopted sister (mom and stepdad), and an adopted brother (dad and stepmother).
For ten years, I was the only granddaughter on my dad's side of the family, and I am a somewhat spoiled child because of it. I was my one grandfather's birthday present (his birthday is/was October 1 as well). For his anniversary, he got to see me (my mom and dad left Marquette to visit family a week after I was born), though I slept the entire time. (And I wouldn't wake up for anything, either. Not even when they changed my diaper did I wake up. Super sleeper to the end.)
I come from a relatively large family, on both sides. My mom has nine brothers and sisters. My dad has four sisters and one brother. It'll be interesting when the two have to come together for weddings . . . if it ever happens.
More basics: I have blond hair (naturally) and brown eyes, and I stand around five foot three. (Yes. I'm short. Big deal. ;))
And that's all I'll say for right now. Tomorrow is another day.
--
And that's it for today!
Up for tomorrow:
Chapter Eight of The Science Fiction Project
more of the gravi drabble thing, which is no longer a drabble
Book Review: Dragons of Autumn Twilight by Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman
Game Review: Dark Cloud
Song Review: Dybbuk by Gackt
Movie Review: The AllNighter
Anime Review: Gravitation
more about me (likes and dislikes)
On with the entry!
--
"Let me get this straight," Madison said, her expression one of disbelief. "You mean to tell me, tell us, that Melissa Cronkhite, the Melissa Cronkhite, the author of Scientific Expressions and Unicorn's Way . . . is your mom."
"Yes," Jo replied, nodding her head. She had to refrain from laughing. Her friends' shock was a bit on the amusing side. Mel and Aimee were staring at her, their eyes wide and their jaws hanging open slightly.
Their reactions were to be expected, however. Not very many people could say they went to school with the child of his, or her, favourite artist or writer.
'Well, some people probably could,' Jo quickly amended to herself. Her family lived in Philadelphia, and many famous people, like M. Night Shyamalan, lived there just as they did in other places, like New York City and Los Angeles. Not all children were like Jo, and she understood that as well. There were some children out there who liked to brag about who their parents were so it was entirely possible for quite a few people to say to they knew or grew up with the child of a celebrity.
Jo had been taught to be modest, however, and she had learned when she was little just how manipulating some people could be. There had been many children who had wanted to be her friends when they'd learned she was the daughter of a famous person. The friendships had never lasted long, which had suited Jo fine for the most part. After all, she wanted people to like her for her, not her family's celebrity status. The three girls before her Jo knew she could trust to not treat her any differently, and so far they had not really disappointed her, either.
Madison shook her head. While Mel and Aimee had been stunned into silence, Madison had not. She'd begun asking questions the moment Jo had told her and Aimee what she'd confessed on the transit train to Mel. Melissa Cronkhite was, in fact, Jo's mother. Some of the questions were repetitious, but Jo knew people tended to that when faced with a shocking situation or revelation.
"But your last name is O'Connell," Madison pointed out. "Melissa's last name is Cronkhite. Did she go straight or something somewhere along her career?"
Now Jo couldn't help but laugh. It was no secret that famous science fiction author Melissa Cronkhite was a lesbian, and she and her life partner had been together for nearly twenty-five years. It was common knowledge, really.
"No," Jo stated, leaning against her room's heater. "Cronkhite is her professional name. Her real name is Melissa Daphne O'Connell. The Cronkhite actually comes from my grandma. It was her maiden name before she married my grandpa."
"Then that makes Torie Cronkhite your grandmother . . . and Ryan O'Connell your grandfather?"
"Yeah," she answered, smiling. The memories of the last few days danced along the edges of her mind. "Ryan O'Connell is my grandfather and Torie Cronkhite is my grandmother, and my grandma's one the craziest yet most loving people I've ever known. My mom's the same way, too. It's awesome."
Jo sat back up and gazed at her friends.
"I know you're probably thinking I'm just saying all of these things to impress you. After all, we have so many things in common, and we all love my mom's and grandma's works. My grandpa, he's still a damned good artist, even after all these years. It's an association any enthusiast would love to brag about. But think about this." Jo paused for a moment to catch her breath. It was one way she was like her grandmother. Talking quickly had a tendency to leave her and her grandmother quite breathless. Her grandfather had to constantly remind her grandmother to just relax when trying to explain things. Then Jo continued with what she wanted to say. "If I'd wanted to impress you, or anyone else, I would have made it known when I first came to the university about who my mom and grandparents are."
"We didn't think you were making this up or saying things like this to impress us," Madison said, finally allowing herself to smile in light of Jo's revelations. "It's just a little shocking to hear, you know? I never would have thought in a million years you were related to either Melissa or Torie or even Ryan. It isn't something one expects to hear."
"I know, and I can believe it," Jo replied with a nod of her head. She knew she'd be just as shocked as they were if someone had told her he, or she, were the child and grandchild of her favourite author. Then again, her absolute favourite authors were her mom and her grandmother, and her absolute favourite artists were her grandfather and her uncle Daisuke. All other novelists and painters were simply icing on the cake for Jo.
"Do they expect you to follow in their footsteps?" Mel inquired, ending her silence. She sounded a little concerned, in Jo's opinion, and she could understand why. A lot of people did expect the children of famous people to be just like their famous parent.
"No. They don't, actually."
"They don't?" Mel sounded surprised and possibly even relieved. Jo's smile grew a little warmer.
"No." Jo shook her head as she spoke. "I mean, I think they'd like it if I did, but they don't expect it of me. As I said, my grandma is one of the craziest people I know. If I was happy bussing tables and living off of minimum wage, she'd be happy for me. She and my mom want me to follow my dreams and do what it is that keep me balanced in life."
"That is so cool!" Aimee murmured, her tone one of awe and admiration. "Your mom and grandma sound like so much fun! You're so lucky, you know that?"
"Actually, I do!" Jo exclaimed with a laugh. She reached for a can of Coke. She'd grown up drinking the stuff, thanks to her grandma and mom. "I love them both a lot. Grandpa, too!"
"Ryan O'Connell," Madison said.
"Yeah."
"I didn't want to say this before, but, um, he's kind of scary looking," Madison murmured. "I've seen photos of him with Torie Cronkhite. He never smiles. It's kind of creepy."
"It just depends on what he's looking at," Jo replied, her tone soft. "Or who. He and Grandma have been together for forty-three years, and he always smiles when he looks at her. He says he loves her just as much now as he did when they first got together. Maybe even more. He can't say for certain. But he does love her, and it shows every time I see them together. They are truly awesome."
"He still looks scary," Madison said, shivering a little. Jo caught it from the corner of her eye. "But he's still cool. I simply love how he paints dragons and wizards and unicorns. I especially love his unicorns. They're so realistic, like they're right there when he's painting them onto his canvas, and his work is just so . . . so . . . wow! I'd almost swear they were real!"
Their discussion quickly generated into talk about Ryan O'Connell's artwork, and his possible influences for everything he had accomplished so far. Jo had never asked her grandfather where he found his inspiration so she couldn't tell her friends anything concrete. She suspected, though, her grandmother had a great impact on everything her grandfather did. They affected each other in every other way, why not their work as well? Over all, it didn't really matter. They were having fun on a Sunday night, until their classes resumed the next day, and it was just the way Jo liked it.
--
“My idea of torment? Why, making men blush, of course! I’m not as good at it as Torie but I am learning!” -- Sheena Hernandez, The Strange Things Women Talk About
I like that quote. ^_^
--
Now to get into the book reviews . . . there will be some spoilers. Just so people are forewarned. ^_^
First of all, I must confess, I do not have this particular book handy. My brother came home for Thanksgiving and I loaned it to him so he could read it. I'm sure you can find an excerpt or something at Amazon.com or at Borders. Even your local library might have something on this book.
Anyway, to start this off, I must comment on the authors. As indicated by the last name, it is a husband and wife team. Some of you may recognize David Eddings' name from other pieces, such as The Diamond Throne, The Ruby Knight, and The Guardians of the West. David Eddings has been almost as prolific as Stephen King has been, and, to me, is one of the best science fiction and fantasy authors around. (The first book I read by Eddings was The Diamond Throne.) It really is fascinating to see husband and wife collaborating on piece, and they do work quite well together. Their writing styles seemed to be quite the same. In other words, you really can't tell who wrote what as you're reading this piece.
The Redemption of Althalas is the story of a thief who thinks his luck has run out on him. He receives an offer to retrieve a book from The House at the End of World, and ends up on a strange adventure in which he meets a Goddess by the name of Dweaia. Over the course of the book, Althalas finds himself in the middle of a struggle between Dweaia and her younger brother. As is typical in stories like this, the fate of the world depends on Dweaia, Althalas, and four other people needed to combat the forces of "evil."
Dweaia, Althalas, and their four companions come together within the first ten chapters. The rest of the book is about how each of them has to deal with a particular kind of enemy, the battles fought in between, and how the most unlikely of people come together to become a strangely knit family.
The pace of the story, at first, might seem like it's a little fast. To me, it started out slow but then picked up as the chapters continued on. It's also quite humourous how the Goddess Dweaia (in the guise of a black cat named Emerald) is trying to break Althalas of his thieving ways but isn't entirely successful. Althalas is a thief at heart, and ends up passing on some of his skills to the youngest of the "family."
This book is quite long, in paperback form. I believe it's around 792 pages. On a scale of 1 to 10, 10 being excellent, I'd have to give this book an 8.5. While I like David Eddings, the fact I had to start this book three times to finally finish it is weighing in. It started out slow, as I said, but then picked up. There are many enjoyable moments to make up for the slow pace.
Do I recommend this book? Yes. I do. If I didn't, I wouldn't have loaned it to my brother so he can read it. ;)
--
And I think I'll toss in a game review as well. ;) I'm in a science fiction/fantasy mood. lol
I've spoken of this game before and how it was a bit of a disappointment for me to play. I'd started to play it, when I thought there wasn't much left for me to do in Dragon Quest VIII: Journey of the Cursed King, which I'm back to playing.
Graphically speaking, this game is good. There are sequences that run on their own, and play like you're watching a cartoon or an anime. Even the plotline behind it is good, and it's quite challenging to play. It also isn't a turn-based game, a plus for those who don't like turn-based games.
However, I don't care for the voices they found for Max, the hero of the game, or how they had him play out at times. I like my heros strong and not complaining. And not realizing their true heroes at their core. Max, if he gets hit by an enemy, cries out, "No way!" at times, and that's aggravating. Heroes fight. Villains fight. That's how a game should be played. I had to shut off the voices for most of the game, I couldn't stand them.
I also don't care for not having control over the secondary characters in the battles. I ended up dead far too many times because Maribelle, or whatever her name is, squeezed out strong characters to head into battle and used the wrong spells on an enemy (i.e., using fire-based attacks on fire-based enemies).
Overall, I do recommend this game. The battles are very realistic, and it's interesting to see the different weapons Max can wield. The downside: You can only arm Max. Everyone else has what he or she needs, and you can't improve anything they carry. On a scale of 1 to 10, I give it a 6. If you can find it, give it a whirl and make up your own mind. :)
--
And continuing from the drabble piece yesterday . . .
"Facing a bitter truth?" Eiri echoed, raising an eyebrow at his former lover. A frown touched his features, and he rose to his feet. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means," Shuichi said with a sigh, "that I'm waking up, I guess, to everything around me. I don't know. I can't explain it."
Eiri held out his arms to Shuichi. Though they were no longer lovers, every now and then they needed someone to hold, someone to comfort them and to say the things they needed to hear. Whether they wanted to hold or be held, or to hear harsh words was another story entirely, but theirs had always been an odd relationship. He waited.
Reluctantly, Shuichi crossed the room, tears forming in his eyes and streaming down his cheeks. He didn't run to Eiri anymore or fling himself at the author. Those days were over, and had been for several months now. Eiri had no regrets. Rather, he didn't have many regrets about the end of his and Shuichi's relationship. It had had to come to end, after all. There were no such things as happy endings in real life. Every now and then, he'd wonder what life would be like if they hadn't agreed to go separate ways. Then he'd scoff at himself and firmly scold the side that missed Shuichi to forget about it. The road not taken did not apply to them, and hadn't for a long time now.
Once Shuichi was in his arms, Eiri wrapped them tightly around the younger man and closed his eyes. The lithe form pressed next to him trembled slightly, and sobs started to pour forth at a slow rate.
As his former lover cried himself out, Eiri steered them to the closest wall. These situations never happened frequently, but the two had found it a lot easier just to stay in one room and lean against a while, Shuichi nestled comfortably in Eiri's arms. It was how they ended up when the feelings of loneliness and self-loathing hit them, and this time was no different.
Sure enough, half an hour later, Eiri's back rested against the wall. Shuichi's head lay against his chest, the vocalist finally shedding the last of his tears. Now that the waterworks were over, discussions could begin in earnest.
"What's going on, Shuichi?"
"Nothing, anymore."
"Anymore?" Eiri raised an eyebrow at that.
"Yeah . . ." Shuichi let out a sigh and adjusted himself, sitting up a little straighter than before. Amethyst eyes gazed up at him. "I've made some decisions, Eiri. Some big ones, and a lot of people are going to hate me for what I'm about to do."
"Is that what's bothering you?"
"In a way, yes," came the reply. Shuichi lowered his gaze. "Things are just getting to be so crazy anymore. I feel like I can't even breathe even though I know I am. I can feel my chest move each time I take a breath, but it doesn't feel like I'm getting enough air. I don't understand it."
"How long?"
Shuichi paused then drew a deep breath.
"Three months now."
"And it never occurred to you you might be having a panic attack?" Eiri inquired.
"It did."
"Then why . . ."
"Because they're not panic attacks. I've already talked to someone about this. I'm not having panic attacks. My chest never hurts when the feeling of not being able to breathe hits. I just can't breathe."
"So what's been going on to cause this?"
Shuichi drew a deep breath . . .
~tbc~
--
And I'm reaching back in time here by talking about this song. :)
The Longest Time is one of the best acapella-style love ballads I've ever heard. I'm sure there are more out there but this one is on the top of my favourites. For good reason, too. The only instrument you hear on this piece is the bass guitar (I love bass guitars), and the lyrics are moving in their simplistic nature.
"If you said goodbye to me tonight/ there would still be music left to write/ what else could I do?/ I'm so inspired by you./ That hasn't happened for the longest time."
I'm not sure if Billy Joel was writing about Christie Brinkley at the time when he recorded this song, but then I don't think it matters much. Any guy could play this for someone he really likes, and it'll still mean the same thing.
It is always possible to be happy and find your inspiration somewhere.
I also like how it can fit in with some of my favourite fandoms, like Gravitation. -smirk- It reminds me of Tohma Seguchi.
Strange, huh?
--
And for something a little different and something I wouldn't normally do . . . I'm going to tell everyone a little bit about myself. Run while you still can. ;)
The basics: I was born on a Saturday. October 1, 1977, to be exact. My place of birth was General Hospital in Marquette, Michigan. (The hospital exists in a different manner now. From what I understand, it's no longer called General Hospital.) I will not give out the names of my parents. That information, dear friends, is classified and known only to those I'm extremely close to.
I am the second born child to my parents, but I'm also the oldest child. My sister passed away within minutes of her birth (she was born prematurely). I have one brother through my mom and dad in addition to a deceased older sister, one stepbrother (through my stepdad), an adopted sister (mom and stepdad), and an adopted brother (dad and stepmother).
For ten years, I was the only granddaughter on my dad's side of the family, and I am a somewhat spoiled child because of it. I was my one grandfather's birthday present (his birthday is/was October 1 as well). For his anniversary, he got to see me (my mom and dad left Marquette to visit family a week after I was born), though I slept the entire time. (And I wouldn't wake up for anything, either. Not even when they changed my diaper did I wake up. Super sleeper to the end.)
I come from a relatively large family, on both sides. My mom has nine brothers and sisters. My dad has four sisters and one brother. It'll be interesting when the two have to come together for weddings . . . if it ever happens.
More basics: I have blond hair (naturally) and brown eyes, and I stand around five foot three. (Yes. I'm short. Big deal. ;))
And that's all I'll say for right now. Tomorrow is another day.
--
And that's it for today!
Up for tomorrow:
Chapter Eight of The Science Fiction Project
more of the gravi drabble thing, which is no longer a drabble
Book Review: Dragons of Autumn Twilight by Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman
Game Review: Dark Cloud
Song Review: Dybbuk by Gackt
Movie Review: The AllNighter
Anime Review: Gravitation
more about me (likes and dislikes)