Spring Break!

The last week has been quite eventful. March 21st is now officially Team ndc!!! Real World Design Challenge Day in Hawaii…so cute. : ] I do wish that we could have spent more time exploring D.C. (the weather was a nice change) and that the pictures I took didn’t come out so blurry and dark. You can’t really see an actual person in any of them. xD

And as a souvenir for myself, I bought myself a pretty triangular piece of amethyst from the National Museum of Natural History…I’ve always had a soft spot for jewels and minerals. I can imagine my future dream home…with sparkly black floors and collections of gemstones.

Now that there’s some downtime before the start of fourth quarter and college decisions (!!!), I can read non-school related books, sleep for extended periods of time, and browse random websites and articles, yay!

I’ve already started doing the above and I must share this article on natural phenomenon that I stumbled upon. The videos are all so pretty, especially those of the aurora and the thunder. And the moon…and the firestorm, oh what the heck, all of them. Check them out! ^ ^

And since science music videos are so cool, here’s a hilarious one on PCR!!!

To set the record straight and to end this post: ndc = not dimensionally correct.


Morrison Imitation

It seems that I haven’t posted in quite a while…life has been busy and I simply haven’t had time to write on a whim.  But after having fun with this Toni Morrison imitation short story assignment for English class, I decided to share!  Enjoy! : ]



Out of the side of her eye, she could see green clinking round and round. She saw a forest of green shadows shifting in him, and it was silent except for the fish in the river. They were fish that didn’t wait for her hands to reach out and touch them. Instead they swam away, slipping and shuddering over other cold bodies because once they stopped moving, that was it. If they stopped, they started sinking straight down, down into pretty ribbons of nothing. One, one way.



She made a note that his eyes were green as she continued to stir the remaining contents of the bowl—the fat, soggy cereal bits that had greedily swallowed all the milk. The fork made a clinking sound against the side of the bowl just like how the links on the watch still did, even after it stopped running. It surprised her that she’d only noticed his eyes now after five months. She had been more careful with Jaimie.

“Darling, were you listening?” His eyes widened with ugly concern and it annoyed her. It annoyed her when people assumed that she wasn’t paying attention because she knew more than anyone else did. She had seen this moment five months ago when his friends were still cooing over them—about how they were so perfect together and how she was the one for Michael—only she had smelled the betrayal in his cologne the very first time they met. Back in the forest when she should have seen those two disgusting pools of green.

“You’re drifting off again,” his eyes accused her before his lips thought to move.

“People usually do.”

“Claire, please. You can’t continue to live here. Move in with me.”



Jaimie had never liked green so her eyes were brown—the brown of sticky mud that coated the banks like frosting, mud that fell with the rain to engulf the fish in sweet suffocation. Two, two ways. Jaimie’s family didn’t like the place either, too woody and undeveloped they called it. They wanted to move to the city, Jaimie wanted to move to the city, and Claire knew, Claire had known since day one that Jaimie was ready to leave her. It must have been the silver watch with thirteen clinking links that clued her in, the watch that Jaimie carried around and called her “treasure” even though it clashed horribly with her brown eyes, the pretty metallic watch from the city that kept running. So it had to happen. It had to and when Jaimie drifted with the little metallic fish, her treasure stopped running. Three, three ways.



“Claire! Stop doing this to yourself. If you could just move on…” Green flashed in front of her, interrupting her thoughts—and then he was walking, he’d gotten up and he was walking to the door because he was frustrated.

If he was going to act that way, then she’d had enough too. Her hand found wet metal and she got up to follow with heart guarded and metal raised. She knew more than anyone else did and she was stronger than anyone else after dealing with so many near-losses. So the utensil came down and broke through flesh. The four claws of the fork twisted and scraped against bone in a dull resonance so unlike clinking—it surprised, then angered her that she hadn’t already known the sound would be that ugly.

He was loud and his hands were wild, but she was stronger and the fork came down again and again to pierce his neck and puncture his throat until they both tasted metallic. He was softer now and his hands fluttered like hemoglobin ribbons in a forest breeze, but his eyes were still open and green and greedily soaking in everything she had. Jaimie didn’t like that so the metal crashed down once again in silver-green discord.

Four, four ways. Four ways to stop them from leaving.

Happy Thanksgiving!


There’s always something to be thankful for. : )  Thanksgiving is a simple reminder to show gratitude and compassion throughout the year.  Happy Thanksgiving!

Blossom in the Spring

Wow, I really haven’t posted in a while!  Schoolwork, apps, & activities have made me a very busy person lately…but the recent rain has quite the calming effect.  : )

Anyways, last night I stumbled upon my copy of the 2002 Edition of The Teacher’s Selection Anthology of Poetry.  Haha…can you guess where this is going?  ^ ^  That’s right: get ready for a sample of my poetry from back in the fifth grade!


Blossom in the Spring

Starting as a seed,

Growing to a plant.

Feeding on knowledge every day,

Some friends stay while others rot away.

Struggling to climb rocks and bumps.

Listening to elders,

Ignoring pesky weeds.

Able to grow into,

A tall and sturdy tree.


Looking past the cliches & slightly disturbing imagery, I must say that the poem’s rather cute.   Always fun to look back on old “masterpieces.”   : )


End of first quarter senior year! Tomorrow’s senior camp!! More of my favorite songs from a musical — Jekyll & Hyde!!!

This is the Moment – Anthony Warlow

Warlow has the best Jekyll singing voice ever, in my opinion. Robert Cuccioli & Connor O’Brien were great as well. But David Hasselhoff…his voice wasn’t really meant for Broadway musicals.

Confrontation – Anthony Warlow (same person singing both parts!)

Dangerous Game – Robert Cuccioli & Linda Eder (both very brilliant!)

Facade (catchy tune!) – The Amazing Cast of the 1997 production of Jekyll & Hyde

A New Life – Linda Eder

Musical Friday

I just love discovering beautiful voices. YouTube’s always a great resource for that. : )

So, one midnight, as I was listening to Lea Salonga (who possesses one of the loveliest voices ever), I happened to come across two singers from the Philippines, Martin Nievera & Regine Velasquez.

Broadway Musical Medley – Martin Nievera & Regine Velasquez (2003 World Concert Tour)
– I Have a Love (West Side Story)
– Someone Like You (Jekyll & Hyde)
– Not While I’m Around (Sweeney Todd)
– If He Really Knew Me (They’re Playing Our Song)
– Take Me As I Am (Jekyll & Hyde)
– Somewhere (West Side Story)

Say That You Love Me – Martin Nievera

Now to some old favorites of mine…

Lea made such a great Eponine!

On My Own (Les Miserables) – Lea Salonga

Oh my gosh! I remember this next song from wayy back… : ) Sung by the original singing voices of Aladdin & Jasmine!

We Could Be In Love – Lea Salonga & Brad Kane

Hmm…why not put up a song from Aladdin as well?

A Whole New World – Lea Salonga & Brad Kane

One last song…

Over the Rainbow – Lea Salonga

Keats Imitation

As an assignment for English, we have to write a poem emulating John Keats’ style.  At the moment, I am far from accomplishing all the technical details involved in imitation.  Keats was, of course, an admirable poet known for his unique imagery and often macabre writing.

But…it can’t hurt to post my draft. ^ ^ It’ll probably be heavily edited in the next few days, so I may repost later.

And iff (not a typo, I just feel mathy!) you’re observant, you’ll notice recycled phrases from some of my vignettes. : ) I couldn’t help it, they just fit in so nicely!  Without further ado…


My hands hold tattered pages thickly bound
By faery stories. Fiendish witches cast a spell
Again in bubbling moonlit cauldrons stirring round,
To brew a curious poison for our star-eyed belle.

I fear no death, a handsome prince will charm
Endless generations of youth by setting free
Our princess, with her glittering trinkets. No harm
To her smile, wide as Hades, once upon an eternity.

In childish tales I live on and undream
My weariness and haunting rhapsodies of death,
I find diamond Lilies near whispering phantom stream,
Forever realms passed on by Baby’s Breath.

Link arms with giant, goblin, elf, and troll
That dash’d off page to frolic, tumble, bark in glee!
Around in merry fragrant circles we will go,
Eight months I hold my Queen of Light, Persephone.

But sweet princesses grow fickle with wealth,
And as a toddler flings food onto barren wall,
She decides I cannot share in her springtime health
Or her treasured everlasting lull.

So to the pages I am shunned disease
Yet their sweet starry eyes still twinkle, beckon, taunt,
Pale Persephone from my embrace Death does seize!
They laugh, and like poison Nightshades, haunt.

Reality has never seemed more real
As I kneel lost, ice at weeping Demeter’s feet.
Deadly pomegranate, life’s ruby seal,
I contemplate if you are less bitter or sweet.

Revised Version:

Reflections on a Storybook

My hands seize tattered pages thickly bound
By faery stories, where fiendish witches cast endless spell
In bubbling moonlit cauldrons stirring round,
To brew a curious poison for our star-eyed belle, ––
For whom I fear no end:
A handsome prince will charm
Generations of youth by setting free
Our princess, with her glittering trinkets. If thou could lend
Thy youth to ancient men as to her smile: No harm
To crimson lips, wide as Hades, and lasting as eternity.

In these childish tales, I live on and undream
My weariness and haunting rhapsodies of death;
To find diamond Lilies near whispering phantom stream,
Forever realms passed on by Baby’s Breath,
And light Dryads flitting through, ––
Linking arms with giant, goblin, elf, and troll
That dash’d off page to frolic, tumble, bark with me,
Where blinking blinds never batten down blue.
Around in merry fragrant circles we will go
Eight months, as I cling to my Queen of Light, Persephone.

But alas! Our sweet princess grows fickle with wealth,
And decides, as the youth who flings food onto barren wall,
That I cannot share in her springtime health
Or her treasured everlasting lull, ––
That keeps from fray,
The pages to which I am now shunned disease.
And yet, their sweet starry eyes still twinkle, beckon, taunt
The one that will bleed bitter decay:
Pale Persephone from my embrace Death does seize!
They laugh, and like poison Nightshades, haunt.

Everlasting story, thou were not penned
For ephemeral days: distant fading tale, a prince consort
Welcomes not mortal as vicarious friend,
Or knowst how to comfort
Constellations of bleak emotion.
Reality has never seemed more real
As I kneel, ice at weeping Demeter’s feet,
Baubo’s jesting drowned in pools of tears’ creation, ––
Watering deadly pomegranate, life’s ruby seal,
Contemplating if thou art less bitter or less sweet.