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mugen_edamameA pictorial review of 2010, it’s the last day of the year but irritatingly I’ve not written nearly enough to make this memorable year remembered (memorized?). It’s the 31st, it’s the 1st already back home (and has been for some hours). How is this being written? you may ask. Ought you not be busy, outside in relatively mild weather and a pretty dress, partying and rocking on to say hello to the New Year?
Lolno. Firstly (and most importantly) there’s no one to spend the day with. Secondly, that firstly is probably the result of a mild funk of little sister going home ;~; People are social animals, and the society I’m in is ver’ small but therefore ver’ important.
So you and me, let’s indulge in a spot of nostalgia (COMPLETELY unrelated to 2010, more for my self-satisfcation than absolutely anything else, because I’m alone and this has always been the best way to avoid being lonely) because next year (tomorrow!) is going to be so utterly different than anything that has preceded it.
For the rest of the post, it's a bit of a pic spam. And if you're a little squeamish about medical procedures, tread warily towards the end~
On track to well and proper madness, my life. Thanks for 19 years and two months now \o/
There's no good reason to look that excited for a school photo. We're such unreasonable people~
My high school class photo. I’m in there somewhere, chubby as anything, but what hey all of us were feeling the love. Saying ‘ve got a multicultural background isn’t for shit and giggles. I was under the impression that the whole world looked like this, multiplied by a few hundred million. Not so much a sheltered upbringing, as a weird, cheerful ignoring of the state of the world.
Newspapers are only as good as the funnies printed in them, basically. I kindof miss that time for the people I managed to meet in that tiny, new high school. And for how lax everything was, because it’s a sad state of affairs to wallow in srsbsns when you’re 16, sortof thing.
Oh wait, now I remember. This isn’t going to be specific for 2 pretty bad reasons. One, I’m taking stock of my life because like I’ve mentioned before, a lot of things might happen next year (including a lot of inter-continental traveling for university courses 8D ), and that means looking back at everything because I’m going to be the big two-oh next year and the concept of that is terrifying (though in no way am I saying you guys who are 20 or older are in any way terrifying. Except when you actually are, but that happens to the best of us then the rest of us).
Two, finding pictures to put in this has me going through my entire photo album, and everything is grouped according to date. I can’t help but click on folders with alluring names like ‘krabi 08’, because it’s easy enough to expect pictures like this to be there \o
Or the fabulously simplistic ‘Italy’. Went there in April ’08, I remember it was just a few weeks after I got my results for the most important set of compulsory national exams (they were a lot better than anticipated, which made me hide the result slip as soon as I got home because I believed and still believe a little that looking at it again would show me how bad I actually did. I’d worn mum’s confidence down in the weeks leading up to the results release day, telling her I’ve done so badly it’s going to be a new record. So that day when she dropped me off in front of school, her parting words were ‘You know you’re smart whatever your results are’ which made me nearly cry because no, as a science person no, the results are what decide the actual from the fantastical. But mums as a whole are a lot more magical than national exams, so I took it to heart. Got my results, then ran unstoppably to the car to scream oh, dear. It was quite the string of As after all. We both whipped out our phones to inform as many family members as we could in as short a time as possible. And this is, I realise, entirely tangential, but it’s on the inventory list. I’m taking stock, yes?).
So many pictures to choose from, but this was a little town we stopped by when we got a little lost heading down south. We’d broken into two groups; me and dad went to search for info, mum and little sister went to buy food 8D It didn’t hit me until I saw the snow-capped mountains way off on the horizon that omfg, I am actually in actual Italy in an actual manner. I felt a little bit more like an adult, but my opinions are daft. I’d always felt like an adult.
Next up is Krabi, once again, in ’09. It’s in Thailand, in case you don’t know : ) mine’s a relatively large family (six of us, plus two recently-acquired cats \o/ ), so going somewhere near meant using less money for transport, and more for SHIT AND GIGGLE THINGS.
You can’t think that the mahout!Lavi fic came completely out of the blue. I watched a documentary on swimming elephants, and it’s been permanently imprinted in my soul. And, more obviously, I’ve ridden on an elephant 8D
My favourite things in the world have the Ocean and revered animals near the top of the list. I don’t why it’s the way it is, maybe one day I’ll start my own cult, become a determined zealot, then drown to my death. Maybe my likes are a foreboding for the future. I like grapes. Maybe that’s an omen for future alcoholism. Or an omen for the destiny of my hair, because purple’s the new black.
It’s half seven right now and I’m typing this up in the common room. When I went apple-picking I bought apple juice with vanilla from the farm, and it’s in a wine-bottle shaped glass bottle, so as I drink it (I opened it for this special occasion) I am slowly going into tipsy-mode, because that’s when I’m bravest and most easily amused.
That’s probably me indulging in an illusion (call it a hallucination even) but it is making me more jolly. Shan’t try and pretend that I’m not alone, though, because that would be creepy. And like I said, writing stops me from feeling lonely. That’s why last year I kept posting entries to my journal because yeah, they were interesting, but more than anything else the act of typing helped ease the homesickness. Not as regular postings this year, because I’m not as lonely or homesick (though there’s a sharp increase in actual, proper sickness. Compared to heart-ache, though, it’s kindof preferable) as I was.
ZA BOTTLE.
Ho hum, where was I? Rrrrr. My first ever University exams were in January, yanno. I did neither too well nor too badly, though to my eternal pleasure, I did score the highest for the Japanese oral exam. We had to do a portfolio of the things we’ve been doing in our own time, to better our Japanese. Everyone else showed proof; I showed emotional torment. It read like a soap opera, where the plucky young girl with the bad skin and crooked smile has to overcome the Japs 8D I got a 2nd class grade for it, which was a surprise, yeah? Because in the Writing part of the portfolio I bitched to great lengths about the difficulty piled onto me because of Kanji. And because bitching accompanied by an appropriate picture is bitching taken to a whole level, the chapter on Reading & Writing starts, and I kid you not this was sent to my lecturer,
Reading & Writing
(i.e: Kanji, that what is the bane of my existence)
Copyright of Gintama 8D
Followed by two pages of careful ranting, with supporting arguments and gag jokes. I got told years ago that I write academic things very personally, like it’s a story and everyone who reads it is a friend. It’s not professional, the teacher scolded gently. And I’ve improved, swears. My academic essays have gotten not-too-unprofessional, but I refuse to eradicate affectionate writing!
/swoops into new topic, that is kindof related except not really
I think I properly got into the DGM fandom this year, with mad fic-writing and the ability to now better appreciate fanart on pixiv 8D It’s the most intense series I’ve ever read, but this may have more to do with my general reading including not-so-harrowing stuff like St. Ojisan and GINTAMA (you must read this except you mustn’t because if you do and you don’t like it you will break my heart ;~; ) The past few chapters have turned shite upside-down, but c’est la vie, amirite? Because I don’t do anything very much more exciting than going to class for a joint degree, yet still one day I suffered from internal bleeding \o
This, first,
WAIT heh the man who rides around town playing music really loudly on the amplifier he’s wired to the carry-seat of his bicycle just cycled by the flat. It was reggae, and insanely amusing. I’ve not had the good fortune to see him in months!
Okay, back to this,
Lavi complains, saying that ooooi. This doesn’t taste very good, does it, gramps?
Bookman, as he noms, wisely rebukes the wee boy. Love it or hate, we can’t do anything else nomnomnom.
THREE YEARS OF LANGUAGE CLASSES, AND THIS IS THE CULMINATION OF MY PRIDE.
… We’re 8 pages in, now. I don’t think there’s enough space to cover everything ;~;
So a brief glance at the internal bleeding, because it was gnarly, terrifying, and picture-less.
A few weeks after I arrived here for Uni, I went to the loo one day, had a bowel movement, and lost what looked like half a cup, a cup of blood. I’m anaemic as is, you see, so that was terribly unpleasant. Prior to the movement of the bowels, I suddenly got so light-headed I couldn’t stand, but I laughed it off.
Long, painful story short, went to visit the doctor several times. I think 8 vials of blood were obtained from me, on top of having the lady doctor put a finger up my bum to feel around for any funny business.
Suffice it to say, I don’t think I’ll ever look at the kinkmeme the same way again >_>
Went to the hospital a week and a bit ago for an endoscopy, and the doctor-in-charge was a man (I have no doubt he currently still is one), AND WAS NOT SO GENTLE ABOUT THE PROBING. It hurt like burning buggery. I get told that I have a high-ish pain threshold, and it still made me want to cry. The endoscope (a wiry camera) was inserted, and it’s a surreal experience, to see your insides. It was all a very pale beige-pink colour with blood vessels branching off bright red as anything. The lighting was excellent, and the way I was positioned on the table meant I could see the screen. I asked where the camera had got up to after a while.
The response was, oh, just under your left rib omfg. It was uncomfortable, because it felt like someone was trying to rip apart my intestines. They had to pump it with air so that it distended enough to allow the camera to examine things properly, but I hated the feeling. Then they biopsy-d me for bits to go to the pathology lab, and I didn’t feel anything because there aren’t any pain receptors in the lining of the gut, but the sight of a small pair of pliers ripping away chunks of tissue was not a reassuring one. Results should come out in a month or so, but a preliminary inspection has the doctor telling me not to worry, nothing appeared to be worryingly wrong.
… I had a picture of myself in the hospital gown, but it appears that my phone deleted that picture of its own accord. Damn :< I looked proper sickly, but then I always react to things slightly extremely.
This isn’t in chronological order. It’s jumped from a few years ago to earlier this month. I don’t tend to remember things in order anyways, so it’s not a great loss. Not any sort of loss at all, really, but there’s so much more I want to record! For fear of forgetting, because these, I think, more than anytime before it, were really my formative years. I was a proper spiteful bitch between ages 7 and 11 (I’m not in any way exaggerating. I had some good moments then too, of course, but I was cruel becase. Well. The way people treat each other is intimately related to how one acts, and those weren’t the most pleasant of times). 12 to 16, say, I was slowly growing in confidence and grim determination, but then things got fucked up then too. Not in a way that I’m not weirdly grateful for, because I’d not be the Yu you know otherwise. Then 17 to 19, a lot of life-changing things happened, more so than before, and in quick succession.
It's stopped being at all about 2010...
I’m grateful, for everything. There’ll be several parts after this, because there is an aching need to ramble on about a few things I’ve done, and a few places I’ve gone to see (getting a diving license, going to Vietnam, watching the European premiere of Gintama the movie 'o' ). I’m not a prolific traveler, not at all compared to a lot of the kids here for an exchange year, but I don’t need a lot to feel pleased. (SO EASY TO AMUSE). For now, though, sap that I am I’d like to thank everyone for being my friends. I can’t properly express how the company I’ve had here while I’ve been away from home helped me along, staving off despair and abject misery <3 It’s been a good 2010, lads and ladies, thanks in no small way to you <3
m(__)m アリガトォ
Raise your glasses of questionable-alcohol-content, have a toast, and babes, let’s live for the lovely \o/
… People do say the breeze-blocks that make the walls of all the rooms makes the place look like a prison. I reckon bad lighting doesn’t help, but this is home and I really like it ＼(◎o◎)／！I promise I’m dressed really nicely under the sweater, but it’s cold, and I’m still recovering from the flu! Have a nice year, everyone <3
Happy new year, everyone <3
With love,
Yu
