Music Tour ’08

Well this is it! Tomorrow, I finally step foot off North America as I depart for Europe!! My school music department is holding a performance tour in Budapest, Vienna, and Prague over 10 days. I’m going to be so freaking excited about it I won’t even be able to focus on school. (not that it’s much of a change haha) Anyways we leave the school at 3:30 PM tomorrow, and I’m going to be filming the whole thing so yipper doodles. It’s going to be intense, but I’ll be able to take my mind off of things for a while too.

Monopoly!: Microsoft Office Edition

My brother, lucky him, received a new laptop for his “spicy sixteen,” which just happened to come with Microsoft Office 2007 Student Edition. Due to the fact that I was still plugging away with Word 2000, I decided to install the new version. Oh! Silly me, you need an activation code to use any Microsoft product. And oh! Silly me, again, my brother already used the activation code. Oh darn. So I wouldn’t be able to use fancy Word 2007. At least I could go back to good ol’ Word 2000 right? WRONG! Apparently the installation of Office 2007 had erased the presence of all other Office programs from my computer. (That’s Word, Powerpoint, Excel, and Outlook, for those who are wondering. Lucky me, I still have Office Express. I love the world.)

Now, stuck with no Word, and no Powerpoint, both of which are required for my school documents, I decided to look online and see if I could buy a cheap copy of each. It would’ve been nice to simply reinstall, but not only were my Office reinstall disks non-existent (I didn’t order my computer from a company, rather, from a private retailer), but doubtless they would not have worked even had they existed. I had already used the activation code once and therefore could not do so again. So I looked online. As might logically have been expected, there were no free downloads of Word (except for a 60 day trial, which is utterly useless), surprisingly, not even of an older version. Then I looked at prices.

You’ve got to be kidding me. Versions 2003 costs twice as much as a 2007, which my computer can’t run reliably anyway because it isn’t Vista. Even despite that, why should I have to pay at all? (or rather, my parents) The computer was paid for in full, as was my brother’s. I tried to use his software, and end up getting mine removed? And then to retrieve it, another access code must be paid for? Yet I really have no choice: either buy a version of Office to replace what I’ve lost, or explain to my teachers why I can’t view my Open-Source alternative documents on the school computer and therefore can do no more assignments.

Which brings me back to the trust issue. Coincidentally, the day after the incident, I had to squirm and fidget my way through an APUSH discussion/lecture about the Gilded Age, and, you guessed it, the robber barons. Every word spoken during those 41 minutes made my eyes twitch. “Monopoly.” “Eliminate the competition.” “Make their product the only one available so as to drive prices artificially high.” “Fabulous wealth for those in control, while the bottom was destitute.” At one point, I could stand it no longer and yelled “MICROSOFT!!!” at which my teacher arched his eyebrows, nodded imperceptibly, and continued speaking. This, of course, is likely due to the fact that he was recently concussed, as he would normally have led us on a rest-of-class-period-long-tangent about the Microsoft monopoly. But I digress.

As I wind down on my rant, I wait fervently for my download of Open Office to finish. It is an open-source alternative to Microsoft Office, and even if the school doesn’t quite accept it as a legitimate way for me to do my homework, at least I can say I stuck my tongue out at the monopoly of Microsoft. ‘Cause after all, Open Office is completely free!

Characterization of Cigen Rucca

His name, derived from the old words for “Sword of the Earth”, reflected his countenance: with chocolate-brown hair, eyes of a similar shade, and a deeply tanned complexion, his visage could be faithfully duplicated in clay without the use of paint. On occasion, whispers that he was Ruccashen, Earthborn, floated through the village, yet his parents would quash the rumors within a Sunturn. Still, the mutterings remained, and skeptics pointed to the typical blond Taircan hair of his parents as proof.

Doubtless, Cigen knew of the rumors hovering about the circumstances of his birth, and he seemed not to care. The hair which was of central importance to the rumors sat in two permanent peaks sweeping from atop his head to across his ears hid a large percentage of his eyes, and therefore his expression, from the public. His mouth remained in an ever-thoughtful straight line, and he always appeared to be plotting something.

His height was unremarkable: in a crowd of Tairca he would blend smoothly with the rest. Compared to Nasdria, of course, he was at least a head taller, but that was to be expected. The rest of him was unremarkable as well: neither fat nor thin, possessing a healthy, but not overwhelming amount of muscle; he was not one to turn heads.

It was only when one could view his eyes in full sunlight that it was obvious he was a unique Taircan. On the rare occasion that his hair was not obstructing, and the rays of the noon sun struck his pumpernickel-bread eyes, they changed; glowing with an aura of their own, a gleam of burnished copper. Ruccashen, whispered the few that had witnessed the glow, Cigen atya Rucca.

Science Olympiads!!

Well, at the Long Island Nassau County Science Olympiads competition on Saturday…I got 4th place out of 66 in the Herpetology category! Yay North Shore! Next year, we’re entering to win: spirit decorations, team shirts, awesome planes, sumo robots, the works. We’ll recruit lots of uber science geeks and sweep the competition. Overall it was a great day, and I only ate half my lunch, but that’s ok.

Politics Make My Head Hurt

Today in AP US History, otherwise known as APUSH, we took today off from learning about Reconstruction to explore the significance of Super Tuesday. Apparently, contrary to popular belief, the states that a candidate wins matters not. (at least for the Democrats) What matters is how many delegates each candidate wins. If one candidate wins a little more than half of one state, well, there’s still a significant number of delegates left for the other candidate. The Republican party does things differently: winner takes all in each state. But we pretty much know what’s going to happen there anyway. The only interesting stuff really is who the Democrats pick. I still don’t quite get the whole thing yet, but seeing as I have a year left before I can vote, I really don’t mind much. We all know that theocracies ought to replace our current system regardless. HAHA no.

Tales of a Famer: 5 Drabbles

It was a sad time to train as a warrior, for there were no handy monsters to gain experience off of. Actual people had to attack other actual people in order to increase their battle knowledge. Of course, Farmer Clarence had no battle experience whatsoever. It had just so happened that he had been given a large sturdy sword by his Lord Protector, and told to protect himself. So when the faceless man on horseback rode towards him, it was only natural that Clarence began to bash the rider rather unskillfully, till he was bloody and fell from the saddle.

As a young boy, Clarence had listened to tales of brave heroes who had slain evil monsters guarding fabulous treasures. When the monsters died, they shriveled up and left behind a valuable weapon or piece of armor, which the hero then marched triumphantly back to the village that had been plagued by the monster. However, the faceless man’s body did not disintegrate. He held onto his treasures until Clarence peeled away the man’s hand from his small round shield and crude wooden spear and took them away. They bore no glittering jewels or gold, but there was blood in abundance.

Staring down at the man he had slain, Clarence fought back the nausea rising in his throat. The faceless man had eyes of granite crying blood. Had that tunic been pressed by the man’s wife that very morning? The tunic, which was a very fine white tunic, was not truly fine or white any longer. Clarence’s sword had caught the man square in the chest, and the purpling bruise on his face clashed horribly with the crimson blood dripping all over the tunic, which had once been fine and white. No amount of cold water washings could remove the stain.

A chilly breeze swept over the field where Farmer Clarence stood over the faceless man. He shivered and stepped back, contemplating the corpse. What to do now? The man was dead and he was cold. Clarence’s feet were blue in the churned snow and the faceless man had well-made boots: leather lined with soft black fur. So Clarence cut a portion of the fine white tunic to use as a shroud and laid it over the face of the faceless man before taking the boots. They fit well and seemed much the same as those not owned by dead men.

Having gotten over the shock of being a murderer, even in self-defense, Clarence strutted proudly into town wearing his new boots. The large sturdy sword was strapped rather dashingly across his back, and he held the bloody spear and shield in his hands. Being a relatively small town, it was a matter of time before everyone knew about it, and went to gawk. Of course, it wasn’t long before the Lord Protector himself heard of the farmer-turned killer, and left his comfortable manor house to see the spectacle. He was unsure what to expect, so he prepared himself for anything.

Let’s get some shoes: if a fantasy character got my boots

The boots were simply wrought in dyed green suede. Fashionable straps crisscrossed the back, closing around the sides through the use of hidden catches adorned in lighter suede the color of a fresh-cut dandelion stem. Inside was a lining of fiergin fur dyed an off-white, eggshell cream with a sprinkling of cinnamon. Cigen pulled them on slowly and redid the catches. To his surprise, they fit his short and wide Taircan feet perfectly. Usually, boots this fine were reserved for the sleeker feet of Nasdria. In the cold winters of northern Mercadar, they were a welcome gift. Looking up at his mother, he smiled gratefully.

“Ta’alya.” Thank you.

She returned the smile and patted one snugly wrapped foot awkwardly before gathering up the wrappings. Creara, the transmutation of waste into fuel for tineira, would take place tomorrow morning, and Cigen knew his mother would never miss anything that could be taken. After she left, Cigen got to his feet, reveling in the slow-burning fire that wriggled between his toes; courtesy of the fur lining. Fiergin were difficult to use for that purpose, but when the fur was treated properly, it would remain warm even when drenched. Flexing his toes experimentally, he made ready for his journey to the Bastzashaba, or the “Castle in the Shadow of the Mighty Mountain.” Technically, the full name was Bastzaanyashayy-atyabundamyst, but never appeared anywhere but the royal decrees of Mercadar.

For someone who hates shopping…

I certainly had a lot of money spent on me today. Got a new violin, a pair of sneakers, a pair of boots, and went to a movie. My old violin was a rental and sounded much like a tin can. Appropriately, it was known as Sir Humphrey the Chicken. For those who are not aware, Sir Humphrey discovered many elements which now adorn the Periodic Table of Elements. I ought to name my new violin, but I simply can’t think of one. I still need to name my sword as well. One of my fantasy names just doesn’t seem to fit. Cigen Rucca is the latest of my fictional fantasy fighters. Then I was thinking of something Germanic like Theodoric the Goth but that doesn’t work either. The best part about my new violin is that I also got an amazing case. It is green like an algae-covered pond which is hit by the sun in a pattern shadowed by overhanging leaves. It also happens to be quite soft and velvety, as well as shinier than shiny teeth.

I dislike Uggs slightly randomly, so I got boots that are better than Uggs. They’re Merrells, and look almost exactly like the Strap Boots from Corum except the straps are on the back. When I put them on they fluff my toes and make me feel as though I just wrapped my feet in many layers of soft fleece blankets.

This is what I spend my time writing in Physics

Idly, Cigen twirled his writshaft between his fingers, while the pretty Nasdrian teacher continued her long-winded explanation of energy. He hadn’t wanted to come here in the first place: the army had descended upon the Taircan village and taken away all the children below the age of ten. Cigen knew enough of the differences between Nasdria and Tairca to understand why he and the others had been taken: Nasdria possessed greater innate intelligence and reasoning skills, but Tairca possessed greater innate energy and strength that allowed them to utilize the teachings of the Nasdria. So, while the Nasdria could understand the teachings of tineira, only a Taircan could actually utilize it to any useful degree.

“Recall now that energy can neither be created nor destroyed, it can only be converted. You cannot make energy out of thin air to fuel your tineira, therefore you must learn to convert it from elsewhere,” the teacher instructed. Cigen copied the words onto a crumpled sheet of paper, his writshaft dripping ink.

“For example, this candle. It cannot light itself on its own, though there is plenty of energy in the air. Change the air energy into a form usable by the candle, and it will then be able to light.”

Cigen nodded, though without much hope that anything would happen. Sure, he’d been able to do it before, but only under the guidance of another Taircan. The Nasdrian, Altyra y Tezr could explain as much as she liked, but would not be able to actually guide him through the actual process. Sighing, he rolled up his robe-sleeves and held a hand out to the candle as his mother had done.

“Feel the energy of the air with your mind,” she had told him, twisting her wrist as if water was flowing against it. “Feel it shifting to the energy of fire; nudge it along with your mind. You want to light the candle. Lend to it your great will, your araytaryste.”

Focusing hard, Cigen reached deep into his mind, falling into the trance he had been taught earlier until he could see the currents of energy flashing different colors and swirling about his hand like snowflakes on the wind. The predominant color was green, although when Cigen seized one, impressing his will upon it, it began to shift towards orange. Several times he faltered in his will, and it returned to green, yet he managed to keep his hold upon it.

Finally, the ribbon settled into a deep rusty-pumpkin color, and Cigen compressed it into his hand until it became a tiny spark. Then with utmost care, he brought it gently onto the candle-wick, and was rewarded with a small blossom. Slowly, it opened its petals until a tiny yellow flame bloomed and twinkled upon the candlestick.

Greetings, carbon-based lifeforms

Well hi there peoples. If you don’t know, I’m ToadsDontExist, or Toads Don’t Exist, or Toads, or TDE, or Amanda. Typically, I run a site called Lair of the Toad that I’ve been managing for wow, little over a year now. Jumping from site to site hasn’t been much fun, and it’s getting annoying. I just wanted a place where I could post my little random stuff for people to see. So, I was told to try this place. A blog seemed like the perfect thing for me: I could post stuff in different sections, and not have to deal with creating new pages and blah blah blah. Plus here the templates are easier. I’m slightly vexed that I can’t upload my own templates, but I’ll deal. At least this seems to be a reliable place. I don’t really know. Anyways, hi, and I hope I’ll see people here soon!

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