03.20.02 >2238

Guess I should surf around at Salon.com more often. I checked out the reader responses to two articles they published recently ("Wrath of a Terror Widow" and "The Andrea Yates verdict is insane") and found a pretty kool variety of opinion.


Inspiration comes when my self-imposed limitations seem intent on locking me away in a chest forever. It's very frustrating to feel like I could suddenly embark on a voyage to some enlightening literary discovery when I'm really in a three-by-three-foot cage and the outside walls are closing in with rumbling swiftness to deliver their gifts of spiked steel, with which to impale my poor, tired mind. But then Inspiration comes along, as cheerful, patient and easygoing as can be, and suddenly the bars of my cage are bursting outward and the spikes are melting. And there goes Inspiration, whistling a happy song and disappearing into the void of Imagination to rescue some other despondent mortal, gone before I can offer a word of gratitude. Perhaps the thanks is not necessary. Inspiration does come in many forms, and my "Muse" usually appears with gooseflesh, the wings of a half-remembered prayer, and perhaps a divine touch. Not always, but the eternity of that moment gives me the impression of gold, a flash of brilliant color, the humming of a song, the emotion in one's tone, or an enlivened expression. May your inspiration stir a soul as His has so deeply touched mine.


At the moment, I seem to have become a quietly maniacal insomniac. Argh. And I doubt sleep will be catching up with me anytime soon, too.

Today is a birthday of some uncategorized variety - I've been blogging for one year. Wow. One year! So Happy B-Day, Creative Slips. Hopefully you'll live to see the birth of orbital space stations and colonies on Mars and Luna. Maybe the invention of anti-grav cars or a truly united United Nations. If not, you'll know the Rapture's happened or I've moved on.

- -

What Flavour Are You? I am a subtle taste, like Pine.I am a subtle taste, like Pine.

I am a quiet, fresh taste, almost more of a scent than a flavour. You will be aware of me, but not quite remember me without being reminded. Not that I'm boring; on the contrary, I'm just a little outside the ordinary. What Flavour Are You?

Definitely fits me. (link via Mute Troubador)

03.19.02 >2235

Okay, so maybe not "g'nite" after all.

I feel like I'm repeating myself, but I have to say this: I tend to listen more than talk IRL. If I do talk, it's to ask questions or give short bursts of opinion (that probly don't make sense even to me) or to complain, basically. Maybe I should communicate more?

Our toilet's gotten clogged a couple times, and I guess Ylang was ticked off because I hadn't made it clear that I hadn't done it (I was in class yesterday when she came home and found the dang thing, um, yeah, clogged). So she somewhat politely/somewhat angrily asked me to be more communicative when stuff like this happens. I figured, well, sure - a clogged toilet is no fun to deal with. And then she says, "I know we've been through this before (we have?), but I don't like living with people who don't speak much."

Okay, so maybe I should try to talk more, but I generally have no reason to unless something's really bothering me. So I guess she's going to have to deal with my silence or get used to the fact that I'm just a quiet person. I definitely ain't gonna change just to suit her needs. My silence doesn't always mean shyness or a hesitance to bring something up. I keep things inside for reasons of my own.

Okay, end of rant. G'nite for real!



Formerly injected here was some little rambling dissertation about D&D quiz results. (I am, btw, the Neutral Good Half-Elf Ranger Bard who'll protect the flowers in your front yard and sing to them if I get that bored. And maybe I'm not as pretty as Legolas, being only half-elf, but hey, I'm still pretty. So there!) Now I s'pose you can just call this space the would-be blog post that I didn't bother finishing.

I've found three interesting articles I could bloody well post, but I don't feel like it. So g'nite.


C'mon, Yahoo, stop screwin' around already ... yes, I have been getting your e-mails, but they're all 90 minutes late.


Ylang's tryin' to ignore me today, it seems. S'okay, really - I'm better at this game 'n she is. (Having younger siblings helps.)

Lots of amazing photos this year in the Pictures of the Year International Contest. Take a look and be wowed. (link via kottke)

03.18.02 >1702

Evil : "Recognising, however, that evil exists; that it is part of what constitutes human reality; that its realisation lies at that final moment of choice: all of this is necessary if we are to live in a world where the technological capacity to annihilate each other requires us to make a conscious decision not to." (link via Follow Me Here)

- -

Check out the Standard Rate and Data Service (SRDS), which "lists advertising rates, editorial or programming content, circulation and other basic information about various advertising media." Pretty interesting stuff for any public relations non-professionals out there.


Never underestimate the power of chocolate.

I went into Baker's Square last night thinking that one slice of French Silk pie wouldn't be enough to satisfy my grumbling, empty stomach. Oy, was I wrong - I couldn't even finish the last bite!

03.17.02 >0858


03.16.02 >2222

I take back everything I said about my folks last night.

It's rather hard to stay mad at them when you meet three kids with a deadbeat dad - and one who tries to claim them illegally on his 2001 income tax, specifically after his own lawyer told him he couldn't. The noive!

03.15.02 >2314

Yugoslavia Is No More. The "Land of the Slavs" is pretty much on its way to becoming a region of independent nations, none of which I hope have any imperialistic ambitions as a few of them have in times past. And thank goodness Milosevic wasn't in office - otherwise this deal wouldn't have happened at all.

- -

And despite my jovial tone, I am far from feelin' happy right now. I've really gotta learn how to think before I say anything to my parents. They didn't like it that we didn't use maps when I told 'em Miriam and I went for an aimless drive down El Camino Real yesterday afternoon. Getting "lost" was what made it fun, for cryin' out loud. And there were no dead ends, no dangerous areas to worry about going through. Sheez.

To top it off, I was trading poetry with my thirteen-year-old cousin Aaron online earlier tonight - he is a fantastic poet who could probably put Robert Frost to shame - and when I casually mentioned this fact to my dad over a snack in the kitchen, he answered with, "Really? That sounds really strange for Aaron."

They thought he was a little "off," if you know what I mean. I clammed up and decided talking with them was no fun anymore. How can you say that about someone you haven't gotten to know better, huh? If it hadn't been for Ash, I think I would've said a few more "colorful metaphors" than I did - I didn't realize I was that ticked off until I escaped back into the living room.

ARGH. Double ARGH! And they complain about how much I don't talk with them. That's exactly why. I don't like getting things like that thrown back in my face, thank you very much. And I was in a great mood before you insisted I tell you about my day. Next time I just answer with a "Fine," be happy I answered period.


A full eight hours of sleep last night. No loud conversations in Chinese at 3 a.m. from the guy next door. No heavy bass music thrumming through our wall. No Ylang keeping me awake for two hours because she's ticked off at the guy next door.

All that restored my faith in getting any sleep period in my own freakin' apartment on a usual school week.

And then the darn fire alarm has to wake me up.

The really, really bad thing about having the thing go off too much is that you get so used to it that after awhile you stop responding to it. Well, it kept buzzing for at least fifteen minutes a little after eight this morning, and then right after a peaceful silence descends, an actual fire truck shows up.

Not that they told us to evacuate the building. Nope, not at all. It pulled into the former lot that graces the front of the Village and just sat there for ten minutes, lights flashing, a fireman wearing a Captain's hat slowly strolling around it while he surveys the grounds of the nearby residence hall. And then they left.


03.14.02 >2311


You give your love and friendship unconditionaly. You enjoy long, thoughful conversations rich in philosophy and spirituality. You are very loyal and intuitive.

Find out your color at Stvlive.com!

This test kinda makes me sound like one of those really religious, too-serious intellectual types *L* Which I hope I ain't at least half the time! (link via Christophine)


Been out with Miriam for pretty much the entire day. Some things I found out:

1) The thing you seem to want most gets old fast. We went to this teriyaki place close to home (in Livermore), because teriyaki's a sort of food I've been craving for the longest time. For the first fifteen minutes, I enjoyed the meal - afterwards, it started tasting like orange-flavored rubber.

2) My sister says I'm setting a bad example, but, well, I really dunno about that. It's not my fault that the little Ewoks grabbed the poor stuffed teddy bear they'd been torturing and made me crawl under the church pews to get it before they did. How was I s'posed to know it'd turn into a "Sarah vs. the Ewoks" Daytona 500? (BTW, I lost. Twice. My earlier wins were forfeited because I cheated. Never race against a skinny kid who's two feet shorter and seventy pounds lighter than you - it ain't gonna help yer odds that much - not that they were good to begin with.)

3) A: Back roads are fun to find - especially if you don't have a freakin' clue where you're going. B: Miriam made a very strong case for weaving in and out of heavy traffic on the freeway, as opposed to sailing down an empty freeway with only a few cars around. She claims it keeps you awake. I'd like to think it's a way to see how hazard-free and sane you are, compared to the little punk in the next lane who seems to have a speed demon inferiority complex. (And Murm's not the kind of person who likes to exceed the speed limit by even twenty miles - so maybe the weavin' thing is just her way of scaring off the pants of the drivers next to her who don't really know how to drive!)

03.13.02 >1757

From EdgeCurve:

About Lord Sauron, why did he pour all his power into a ring? I mean, rings get lost, fingers get hacked off. (Also, why a gold ring? It clashed with Sauron's black/brushed metal look.) It just wasn't the smartest choice. Perhaps another item may have worked better than a ring?

He could have poured his power into any number of items; one that isn't so easily lost. Like his shoes. Or one of them at least. That way there could have been "the one shoe". The other would even be a decoy. It would be like the presidential motorcade. One doesn't know which of the two limos the Chief Executive is riding in. The same would go for Sauron's shoe. The one shoe to rule them all.

But I suppose a shoe is risky as well. He may step in some mud and it gets stuck. He would have to take them off too. Like when he is at home in Barad-dr sitting by the fire warming his feet. He needs something that he could wear always and not lose. Something like a girdle would have worked. The one girdle. One girdle to bind them. One girdle to bring them all and in the darkness bind them.

He would be an unstoppable Lord of the Girdles.
I am definitely too easily amused here.

03.12.02 >1324

I think the content of the Story page will change in the future - expect more story play from PanHistoria to be posted soon.

We'll start things off smartly with "Under Three Suns" by Lee Torres. This story was written to give some background on Lee's character, Commander Leland Urquhart, at the Voyage of the Intrepid novel that we lead at PH. I can't say anything more than this little literary gem has been a joy to read, and even cry over.