Thursday, May 23, 2013

10 Reasons To Become A Vegan

10 Reasons to become a vegan...which I am not. But here are some reasons anyway! http://www.theflamingvegan.com/view-post/10-Reasons-To-Become-a-Vegan

Monday, May 13, 2013

10 Surprisingly Vegan Celebrities

Surprised me at least...upvote me and I might make money!
http://www.theflamingvegan.com/view-post/10-Surprisingly-Vegan-Celebrities

Friday, May 10, 2013

So, about 10 years late to the party, I've created a Livejournal account. BUT don't worry, I have a reason! There's this thing called LJ Idol where we get weekly (I think?) prompts to write about and then one (I think?) participant is eliminated each prompt. I didn't really read the FAQ well. If you wanna check out the rules yourself, here's the link: http://therealljidol.livejournal.com/648151.html

Anyway, the first practice prompt was posted, so here's the prompt:

"This week your task is to Introduce someone else!

That's right. Pick someone else who is signed up for this season, and write an entry introducing them!

Can it be fiction? Yes. Can it be non-fiction? Sure. Can it be interpretive dance? If you can find a way to fit it into an LJ entry, sure!"

...and here's what I wrote! I kind of was really late on posting and almost missed the deadline, so you will be able to tell there has been no editing: http://ugawa.livejournal.com/1376.html

Also, here's the text:

Introducing...Majesticarky

Born and bred in a briar patch,

majesticarky used to sneak into Mr. McGregor’s farm to steal food for her family. As a young child, she displayed various feats of unfathomable strength, which ended when she rescued her friend, Meg, from the underworld and claimed her rightful place on Earth as a mere mortal like the rest of us.

When she was young, she also was able to sneak into the army in order to replace her aging father, ultimately defeating Shan Yu in a spectacle witnessed by the emperor. By the time this had all finished, she was able to begin her journey down Route 1 to Viridian City.

On her journey, she met a scarecrow in need of a brain, a tinman in need of a heart, and a lion in need of some courage, however that takes its form. Fortunately for the group, she was able to get all of her friends their respective desires, but became lost in the water temple during the celebration. In order to get out, she had to escape on the underbellies of sheep while the blinded Cyclops felt around to try and eat her.

It was at this point in her life that she decided to go to college. She attended Hogwart’s School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where she met Bella and Edward, who introduced her to the deadly game of Jumanji. College was a blast for

majesticarky, including the one night she and some of her sorority friends found the hidden world of Narnia within their wardrobe and crossed the Bridge to Terabithia.

When she graduated, she spent the first year of her adult life accompanying Benjamin Gates around the world, stealing the Declaration of Independence, and looking for an orange clownfish with one small flipper. She finally decided to settle down in the quaint town of Sleepy Hollow, but was forced to move to California due to “night terrors,” heavily induced by her location.

In California,

majesticarky followed her heart and released a large social network to the world with the help of Justin Timberlake and Brenda Song. You may know it as The Facebook (now known as Facebook due to Justin Timberlake’s contribution). Eventually, she became bored with the Facebook life and decided to get back in touch with her grandmother, who had just sent word she was to be crowned Princess of Genovia.

Over the past few years, she has wandered from place to place as a Rurouni, or wanderer, helping anybody who needs it with her reverse-blade sword, all the while planting apple seeds in order to grow large apple orchards all around the world. She has currently settled (for the time being) at the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, and is excited for LJ Idol.

Friday, April 26, 2013

Ritual Of The Strings

Darkness falls and suburban basements come alive with sweaty teenagers and home-grown music. You were the lead guitarist of a high school band called Faded Matrimony, and I was a permanent member of the audience at all of your shows. I like to think of myself as a mix between a cheerleader and a science geek, but I think I only got into science club because they thought I was a cheerleader, and I only got into cheerleading because they were looking for “intellectual diversity.” I didn’t identify much with either group, but it was fun to pretend.

We met when we were young, and we had been best friends since a crib was a prison, rather than an MTV show. You were always into music and I was always pretending to be the flavor of the month. Sometimes it was science and cheerleading, sometimes it was basketball and woodshop. My only consistent interest was in your music, and I liked to think you kept me slightly grounded in that way. You reminded me I wasn’t defined by the masks I chose to wear when it wasn’t Halloween. You were comfortable in your own skin and I was comfortable when I was around you.

Tonight, your band was playing at a house party hosted by Katie Colligan, one of my cheerleading counterparts. Her parents were out of town for the weekend, and the party promised to be a real rager. Tubs of ice and cheap beer lined the basement walls, and hormones were flying rampant as everyone found a warm body to rub up against.

I stood in the corner, sipping a beer and watching you play the guitar with the intensity of a lion on the hunt. I was not much of a dancer, and the dedication and passion you showed your instrument was much more interesting than having someone I didn’t care for sweat all over me. You wrote all of your band’s original songs, and I felt a sense of pride for you as they echoed through Katie Colligan’s basement. I hoped one day you might write one for me.

Hoping you would notice me.

The band stopped playing when you wanted them to stop, and you packed up your instruments like every other night. Someone’s iPod took over the night’s soundtrack as I wandered over to congratulate you on another successful gig, feeling drunk enough to dance but sober enough to know I shouldn’t ask. These parties were always strictly business with you—you came, you played, you left. I admired your professionalism, but I wish you’d stay and dance with me every once in a while.

You asked me to join you for a bite to eat as you headed out, and I accepted like every other night, trading my dancing shoes for diner food. Even though we were just friends, it felt good to leave parties with you. I liked the thought that I could make all of the other cheerleaders jealous by leaving with the band’s frontman, even though your only love was made of wood and strapped around your neck when you played your music. Secretly, I wished you might have room for one other to love at some point in your life.

We left Katie Colligan’s and headed out to Ed’s Diner, the only spot still open at this hour in our small, suburban town. Dimly lit with waiters and waitresses more maternal than our own lawyer-and-doctor-parents, Ed’s Diner was the late night rendezvous for high school seniors like us with nowhere else to go. As we pulled into the five-car parking lot, we were greeted by the stench of cigarette smoke coming from a group of skaters hanging out by the entrance. We passed by them with a friendly nod, while the empty tables and fluorescent lighting beckoned us.

You were quieter than usual tonight, and even as we were seated in our usual corner booth, your eyes alerted me of a story you didn’t want to tell. You ordered a black coffee and I ordered a side of fries. The post-party ritual began, but your mind was somewhere else.

I watched you as you shifted uncomfortably, left, then right, then left again. You made some joke about a princess and a pea, but I was too worried about you to laugh. This seemed to make you more uncomfortable, and I instantly regretted my silence.

I reached my hands out across the table to comfort you, and you grabbed them as though they were a life preserver and you were being washed out to sea.

You touched my hands gently. You looked me in the eyes. You told me you loved me. You told me you always have. You said you wanted to be together.

“I believe this is what you ordered,” our waitress said, placing our food on the table in front of us. But the post-party ritual had been broken, and I was no longer hungry.