Thing-a-day.com

If I were a spaceship, I’d be the kind of spaceship you’d take on long voyages, because I wouldn’t wear down with time, but instead, only get better with the years.

If I were a spaceship, I’d be the kind that you wouldn’t ever lose track of in the dark. I’d have blue wings and red tinted windows, and I’d fly around through wormholes that other spaceships would never bother looking for.

If I were a spaceship, I’d be the kind that you’d want in a fight, because I wouldn’t ever give up.

If I were a spaceship, I’d be the kind that would stay in the family, because I wouldn’t sell out to someone else.

If I were a spaceship, I’d be the kind equipped with every intergalactic radio channel available (and a few that aren’t).

If I were a spaceship, I’d be the kind that would never get lost, not only because every route is memorized, but also because my internal sense of direction would be awesome.

If I were a spaceship, I’d be the kind that you’d ride for trips that you didn’t want to be bored out of your mind on.

If I were a spaceship, I’d be the kind that could communicate with all other kinds of spaceships, provided they were willing to communicate.

If I were a spaceship, I’d be the kind that never went out of style, no matter what year it was.

If I were a spaceship, I’d be the kind that you’d ride in if you wanted to be somewhere on a specific day and time.

If I were a spaceship, I’d be the kind that would treat all pilots the same, unless they stole me from a family . . . *evil laugh*

If I were a spaceship, I’d be the kind that had secret passageways that only could be accessed by people with innocence in their hearts.

If I were a spaceship, I’d be the kind that could stay cool under pressure, able to keep going strong even in the face of strong adversity.

If I were a spaceship, I’d be the kind that children would dream about riding in.

If I were a spaceship, I’d be the kind that would have an instinctual knowledge for all of its passengers’ personal preferences in temperature, lighting, food preparation . . .

If I were a spaceship, I’d be the kind had extensive data banks of knowledge.

If I were a spaceship, I’d be the kind that would help out other spaceships in times of trouble.

If I were a spaceship, I might look like this:

If I were a spaceship, I’d be the kind that would be good to talk to in the middle of the night if you couldn’t sleep.

If I were a spaceship, I’d be the kind that would keep you safe from harm.

If I were a spaceship, I’d be the kind that would sacrifice myself if I knew it would guarantee your survival.

If I were a spaceship, I’d be the kind that would never forget anyone on any random planets, no matter what.

If I were a spaceship, I’d be the kind that you’d want your friends to see, just because there aren’t any other spaceships exactly like me in the universe.

I’m behind, but I’m still bound and determined to catch up.  I’ve been spending at least four hours per day in the library for the past 2 weeks doing homework and research.

My running joke right now is that I study for a couple of hours and then I take a break by doing some research.  *headdesk*

Technically this was for an assignment, but the version I posted is the part that I continued to tweak after I achieved the objectives for the assignment.  :) 

Ever hear of the cartoon music video called Ultimate Showdown of Ultimate Destiny?

Well see, the thing is that I’m a geek. A geek horrible at remembering names; even names from her own field of “expertise.” lol. So for thing-a-day, I made up an alternate version of this song, using only names from the Classical and Romantic eras of Music History.

Old Beethoven was hopping around
In Music History like a big playground
when suddenly Wagner burst from the side
and hit Beethoven with “Here Comes The Bride”
Beethoven got pissed and began to buck
but didn’t expect to be blocked by Gluck
who proceeded to start up the opera stage
when Steven Foster came out in a rage

and he started beating up on Christoph Gluck
then they both got flattened by a good left hook
but before he could make it back to Germany
Rossini popped in from Italy
and took out a song from the character Figaro
and blew Wagner away in the style of bel canto
but he ran outta air and he ran away
because George Bernard Shaw came to save the day

this is the Ultimate Showdown of Music History
good guys, bad guys and explosions, as far as the ear can see
and only one will survive, I wonder who it will be
this is the Ultimate Showdown, of Music History

Beethoven took a bite out of George Bernard Shaw
Like a mean teacher* can always find a flaw
and then Gluck came back with a big bloody nose
but Mendelssohn jumped out and landed on his toes
and Wagner was injured and tried to find safe harbor
when Rossini came back with a murderous Barber
but suddenly something caught his leg and he roared
William S. Gilbert took him out with a sword

Then he saw Beethoven sneaking up from behind
and he reached for his gun, which he just couldn’t find
’cause Wagner stole it and he shot and he missed
and Mendelssohn deflected it with his fist
then he jumped in the air and threw some kicks
while Rossini jumped up with some wild antics
onto George Bernard Shaw, but they collided in the air
then they both got hit by a Darwin stare, oooh

this is the ultimate showdown of music history
good guys, bad guys and explosions as far as the ear can see
and only one will survive, I wonder who it will be
this is the Ultimate Showdown . . .

angels sang out a wondrous four part
down from the heavens descended Mozart
who delivered a kick which really hurt
into the crotch of William S. Gilbert
who fell over on the ground, down on a knee
as Wagner changed back into a nazi
but Mozart saw through his clever disguise
and he crushed Wagner’s head in-between his thighs

Then Robert Schumann and Franz Schubert
Amadeus Wolfgang Mozart’s Magic Flute
Mussorgsky and Pergolesi–and
Glinka and Verdi
Wolf, Billings, Rimsky-Korsakov and Brahms
Chopin, Adam, every single Strauss
Massenot and Weber
Bach, Offenbach, Heinrich Koch and Auber
all came out of nowhere lightning fast
and they kicked Mozart in his composer ass
it was the bloodiest battle the world ever saw
with the audience looking on in total awe

and the fight raged on for a century
many lives were claimed, but eventually
the champion stood, the rest saw their better
Berlioz in a bloodstained sweater

This is the Ultimate Showdown of Music History
Good guys, bad guys and explosions, as far as the ear can see
And only one will survive, I wonder who it will be
This is the Ultimate Showdown . . .
This is the Ultimate Showdown . . .
This is the Ultimate Showdown . . .
Of Music History

*Insert teacher’s name here

I’m just posting this to point out that yes, I know that I skipped yesterday, but if you had been with me yesterday, you would have skipped too. 

So I’ll do two posts today to make up for it.  I promise. 

In fact, I had a thought for one right now.

Imagine what it would be like if 1337 and an aspie were to come in contact with one another.  What if the aspie were a poet?  It might look a bit like this: 

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(4|\|’7  83|_!3\/3  !’|\/|  $7!|_|_  |-|3|23
4|_|_  (0|\|$!|)3|2!|\|6

8|_|7  $!|\|(3  !  4|\/|
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If you want to try your hand at translating, I’ll even share my alphabet with you:

A = 4
B = 8
C = (
D = |)
E = 3
F = |=
G = 6
H = |-|
I = !
J = _|
K = |<
L = 1
M = |\/|
N = |\|
O = 0
P = |*
Q = *|
R = |2
S = 5
T = 7
U = |_|
V = \/
W = |/\|
X = )(
Y = ‘/
Z = 2

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PPPPPPP . . . . . . . is for PEACE (AS SEEN THROUGH THE EYES OF A SYNAESTHETE)

So I’m poking merrily along today when suddenly this thought hits me:

“Wait, wasn’t I supposed to have done something today???”

*headdesk*

THING-A-DAY!!! Didn’t I just do that yesterday???

Meeting Jack

He was small when his sister was born. He watched the world carefully; even though his world consisted mostly of kneecaps, table legs and floor designs. He remembers the day that his sister was brought home. His father and his uncle were at the house, perfecting the room that his sister would stay in. To his relief, they weren’t talking much, but mostly spent the time handing each other mechanical parts and the tools that were used to put them together. He watched discreetly from the hallway, even though his father thought that he was in his room.

When they did finally get into a conversation longer than three sentences, it was as he had suspected; it was about him.

“Chris,” his uncle said, “how do you know that this one will be okay?”

“Jesus, Brad, you of all people should know what happened the last time! I daresay that there will be no mistakes this go around, considering the mud we dragged that other doctor through. Not only will that man never find another job in the medical field, but he’ll also be paying us out of pocket for the rest of his natural life.”

“Do you honestly believe that he did it on purpose?” Brad answered, incredulity tinging his voice.

“He’s one of those damn neo-evolutionists, Brad. He did it on purpose, trust me. ‘Making the world more diverse for tomorrow’s children. Expanding the neurological barriers.’” He said in a sing-song voice, quoting the slogans he had no doubt heard many times before. “God, what a crock. I want to know how having a kid like Jack is going to do anything more than cost the government some pretty pennies after Sue and I are gone.”

“Speaking of him,” Brad said, “aren’t you worried that he might hurt the baby?”

“I doubt he’ll notice the baby. Besides, we keep a pretty good eye on him. He doesn’t like to move that much. If I just set something shiny in front of him, he’ll stay there the rest of the day.”

He had wandered off then, back to his room and its “shiny things,” as his father had put it. He wasn’t angry at his father’s words, or at his uncle’s words. Anger was too loud for him to think about. It hurt his brain. He tried to avoid it.

Later, after his mother and sister had gotten home, and they had gone back to their respective schedules, except his sister who was fast asleep, he decided to sneak in and see her. They told him that his mother was taking a bath and his father was in there with her, talking to her. That was on the other side of the house. They wouldn’t hear him. They rarely noticed him anyway, except when they wanted to. He felt pain at the memory of their choices in times to notice him. It seemed that they almost purposely chose times when they knew he would be completely invested in something and not want to be disturbed. They didn’t notice of course, but there were times that he wondered.

He walked to her room with his eyes closed. He did better when he didn’t rely on his eyes. His other senses tended to be easier to process. Besides, the light in the hallway was too loud, and much too yellow.

He opened the door softly, taking care not to just crash into the room like his parents often crashed into his, even when they thought they were being quiet. He listened closely to the tumblers move in the door knob as he turned his hand one way and then back. When he was perfectly quiet, he could see them move in his mind. When there were others around, he could only feel them in his palm; a sensation he didn’t like, because it itched.

After closing the door behind him, he crept carefully to her crib, sidestepping the diaper bag easily; its position already memorized from watching his father put it down earlier that evening. He looked at her face, awash in the glow of what he called the Life Dust. She was so tiny and compared to her, he was big. He had heard others talk about older siblings and big brothers and he knew that he had a very important mission laid out for the rest of his life now. He didn’t mind; the Life Dust had told him that it was a very honorable position to find one’s self in.

(more…)

The world turns via wheelies.

I went through all of my colors twice. I drew 100 circles for every color.

Okay, fine, I’m insane. I’m a grad student who is already crazy with work overload and yet here I am.

I’m a Music Therapy grad student at Texas Woman’s University.

I’m thinking that my additions to the website are going to be primarily drawing and writing related (since that’s what I do when I’m not making music). As for the music:

1. I don’t have a way of getting it on here.
2. Drawing and writing are more for leisure time; they’re more hobby related, as in I don’t have to be perfect at those things in my life.

I got my undergrad in instrumental Music Education at Mars Hill College; located in the mountains of North Carolina. Music ed is a pretty logical, perfection-oriented field; so is it any wonder that I tend to be a little anal already?

Here’s a link to my mouse drawings.

My regular website is called Odd One Out: With a refreshing slice of aspie.

And this is all Cripchick’s fault!!! lol.