The Walk...

Every once in a while I have this big rush of Japan Love. I keep coming back to it. It's gone on since I was at least twelve years old and it just won't quit.

I must face the facts that I am a creature of very long habits, what I start when I am younger I am stuck with. This is why I cant drink. I would be a lush and I would looove it.

(It also happens to not be a part of my personality, people look at me and say, “I could never see you drinking.” Well, thanks. I guess.)

Anyway. About this Japan Love. I've been fueling the fire for kimono lately and am gathering items to start practicing kitsuki.

But before I take the plunge, I've realized a few things. I need to know how to sew. I was never taught by my mom since she always just winged it. My grandma is also no help whatsoever.

And online is no help, none! I guess I will just have to start practicing since I am not going after a furisode or a tomosode with these klutzy hands yet.

*sigh*

Girls make me boil. That hasn't changed any. It's because I know what they are up to most of the time.

It started with me walking into school today and sitting down at our table and I would have sat next to my boyfriend but Corey was occupying the chair to the right and Sarah sat on the other side. Corey was sleeping, Mike was drawing and Sarah had a death grip on Ian's book while was making eyes at him.

Oh, bloody shoot me.

So I'm sitting there thinking: Viola don't say anything. Don't speak. If you say anything it will just make you look stupid and jealous. You are overreacting. Overreacting, got that?

So I didn't. Corey woke up about this time at the mention of the name Viola. He looks over at me, which I could see through my peripheral vision but I wasn't looking up at any of them, content with acting like a four year old and searching through my bag for nothing-in-particular.

He says, "So, uh, you still mad about the whole Tsulu stealing your purse thing?"

"What? No." And I keep looking through my bag.

Sarah is going on about She's the Man, that movie that is based off of Twelfth Night and naturally my name always brings that subject up.

Corey continues talking, "You are lucky. You are named for that."

By this point I'm already annoyed and making a fool of myself then Ian starts in with gesturing me over to him, "Come here," he says to me.

So I'm sitting there still thinking to myself: No. I will not 'come here', I'm being defiant and I will not squeeze myself between Corey to come over to you because I know he will make some perverted comment and I am sure as hell not jumping in between you and Sarah. Also, I was not named for Shakespeare's Twelfth Night. My parents named me after my grandma.

I got up and made some excuse about math homework and went off to do that.

So I've been sitting here thinking I'm an idiot but I still feel justified even if I know I'm being juvenile.

I'll call this bitching but so far I've come across three titles for one poem. Which is it?

I have it memorized, well, sort of. It's for Anderson's which is next period.

So far I've found the title could be:

"Song"

"Requiem"

Or even...

"When I am dead my dearest..."

That is just annoying!

So I'm sticking with the first title and if it is wrong...Anderson can bite me.

Hopefully I can remember the entire poem.

I’m here. Back, I should say.

I finally decided on a less mundane name that doesn’t use the number 100 in it.

Now my poor myspace is stuck, I’d like to change it but the work involved and getting all the people re-added is almost too much work.

Hopefully using this new LJ I won’t be so much of a lurker.

Joie, to the start of things!

For those friends who don’t understand the joie thing read, Kushiel’s Legacy.

So, add me people!

ladykikyou100