Epic Music

While I have no musical talent whatsoever, I find that music and sound is something that is important to me in entertainment. Today I ended up on this songs wiki page because of its use in entrainment, as "epic music." And I like epic music. There is something absolutely satisfying about it that makes everything else awesome. Similarly from the latest Star Trek movie the main villain, Nero, was given a leitmotif tune. This epic music bled into our last D&D game and became the theme music for Nick our resident necromancer.

Zoroastrian

In High School I basically took as many AP classes as I could. My first AP class was AP World History during my Sophomore year. Before we had our first taste of a real AP test Ari, Emma, Darla, and I (I think at least) got together for a "study group." We ended up getting very little worthwhile studying accomplished. Although I believe we all passed the test pretty handily. And of the college credits I've gotten from my AP classes this class counted for more GEs (General Education classes) than any other test I took.

The first of our gems was a passage from an AP test prep book, that we then wrote on a whiteboard.

Actual quote about the Maji Maji Rebellion's use of "magic water."

The second stemmed from the question of "what were the beliefs of Zoroastrianism?"

 My answer being, "I don't know. Chill and don't kill?"

"Chill and don't kill," ladies and gentlemen, words to live by. 

Heroic

I was bored today, so I made a superhero. Using a superhero generator. Yay! Random fun on the internet. 

It's Captain Meyrific, or something.

I don't know what her super power is though. Being really pale maybe. I'm a little bored if you can't tell, Internet. I miss D&D.

Something Different

The size here doesn't fit well with my blog-- whoops, I should have thought about that.

From our D&D campaign a couple months ago.

This by the way, is my absolute favorite cursed item ever. And this particular exchange may be my favorite thing from D&D ever

I Write Like

I write like

George Orwell

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

I found this site today, that compares you're writing style to that of an actual writer. So I plugged in my writing from each of the BEDA stories (each paragraph that I wrote (so it wouldn't necessarily make sense but gave the program plenty of data)) Some of my other results from just some of the longer blog posts included Steven King and Kurt Vonnegut. I think its kinda neat-- and I like to think its somewhat accurate.

Don't Stop Me

Because I really need more distractions before finals I was directed to a particular web comic (here) that often makes science and math jokes. 

However, the science in this joke is minimal.

But, Why is the Rum Gone?

I was in my differential equations class today and my teacher handed back some papers. The first was a quiz from last Thursday which even though I forgot that there was a quiz that day I did surprisingly well on. The second was a random warmup that we turned in also on Thursday. The warmup had either a +1 or a +2 on it. And my teacher clarified that it was extra credit points; thusly:

"It's extra credit on the next exam. It was either that or an extra ration of rum."

Apparently, he has been reading some books about pirates and it's carrying over to his day job.
Did I mention that I really like my math teacher?

May Flowers

It's weird not being bound to the blog by the BEDApril (as we've come to call it, as opposed to BEDAugust or Blogust) so, while I am going to try to blog most days from now on, seeing as I proved I can do it, I am not going to be posting everyday anymore. I'm going to focus more on making sure I post quality posts rather than fanatically trying to make a deadline for a day. Like today for example, is after midnight. I will be participating in Blogust this August, and I really encourage anyone and everyone to try and participate.

So, today's post began as a comment on Mike's final BEDA post, but I decided I was typing enough and being general enough that I should just turn it into a post:
About the stories: I know the feeling with Marlon's story starting out-- it was much more complex than the story I had written. I saw that on the first day and was very glad I didn't have to write that for that day. And yes, he really does need to finish his story. I really enjoyed that whole tandem story experience and was very, very pleased with how my own story was handled from the guys. I had a great time trying my best to emulate the styling of the other writers. Hopefully, when we next do BEDA we can organize an even more epic story experience.

It's Alive

You may have noticed by now, but when I'm not working on homework (which encompasses when I blog) I've tended lately to obsess about DnD. And today is no different, I've been everything I can to give me ideas for my character, Korin Meyer (as a note, yes that is the same first name as my freelancer character, Korin "Kori" Leena).

Well, one of the DnD books on equipment has a chapter talking about mounts. My favorite mount-- the gelatinous cube. Best part you ride it from the inside of the cube. So, imagine that: essentially riding around in a giant, hungry cube of Jell-O (does that make anyone else really want Jell-O, espeically if if looks like this(which is technically Jell-O ice cream, which sounds even better to me!)).

However, you do need a magic item that creates a force-field around the character in order to avoid being flat-out devoured by the cube. But, to move the cube you actually trick it into thinking there's food in a particular direction by banging on that force-field. Personally I still think thats a neat trick.

What Flavor is Sneak Attack?

I was looking up some lore information as a spring board to develop my DnD character today, and I saw an ad on one website for DnD themed Jones Soda. Which strikes me as odd. So a quick hop, skip and Google search later. And it appears to be legit.

DnD Spell-casting Soda, is an actual product. Found here.

Although my concern would be: what flavor is sneak attack supposed to be?

Bad Meyr

I find that if you're not careful its very easy to get into a cycle of not thinking about these posts. Because the past two days I've totally copped out. And that's not really blogging. People don't care to read about how I'm frantically trying to make sure I don't fail. That being said, I completely wanted to write today off as much of the same. So, here's me trying to be good, since I'm in the final stretch of BEDA.

This weekend, I played DnD as I briefly mentioned the last two days. This is the campaign we were planning on started after Freelancer wrapped up, but we started early because the people we had this weekend it made more sense this way. This does mean that Freelancer is wrapping up, and that Kori will have some sort of closure good, bad, or otherwise.

Pirating

Yesterday, I hastily posted that I was home and playing DnD this weekend. And today is no different. I should be able to come back to this at some point in the future, but I am currently at the DnD table investigating a pirate ship. David should do his blog for today. I now know that he already did. [David's addition] Awesome.

QQ moar

I have nothing to write about. So today, Internet, you get me being random.

Arghh.

Seriously, I have nothing to say-- not even some lame excuse for a post. Tomorrow will be good-- posting wise; I have two tests so my day is going to suck. Yeah, that doesn't just go away even if you claim that you can't possibly be tested, because you're special. Apparently the real world doesn't care. I need a tiara. And a cape. Because I want to be a pretty, pretty princess and the goddam Batman.

Joking Around

I don't know exactly how this came to mind, but bear with me (also if your not a fan of puns and wordplay queue your facepalms).  I was in physics and talking about waves. And waves have to propagate through a medium. Medium.

Remember that old joke, what do you call a clairvoyant little person escaped from prison?
-- A small medium at large

A small medium. Kori's definitely a psychic, and she's short. Check and check. If only she was at large-- oh that right, she's one of the most wanted people in the galaxy. Check there too.

Korin Andromeda Leena
Small Medium at Large

I should make business cards.

Edit:

Totally made business cards. This is what you get when you teach a geek graphic design.

Hearing Things

Internet, if we're ever had any sort of conversation where my dorm comes up then you've probably heard me complain about the noise. That being said the actual walls of the dorm are pretty good about blocking most sound, when I complain its about the noise from the other side of the door, so more specifically the hall.

Well about 30 minutes ago I start hearing really faint music from the wall behind me. In order to emphasize how faint it was: it was so faint that if I didn't recognize a tune I wouldn't have heard it at all. So, in other words if I didn't recognize this particle tune, my mind would have written it off. Alright, so it's a tune I recognize-- well it only gets weirder from there. Once I started hearing it, it took awhile to convince myself I wasn't going completely crazy. I could only hear music itself even couple of minutes (with didn't add to that whole not-crazy thing) because of how quiet it was and it took a couple of times for me to place where I recognized it from:

Donnie Darko

And, aside from Mad World (which was not the tune I identified) there isn't anything that stands out on the soundtrack; its just orchestral type, soundtrack stuff, also generally not that loud. I listen to the soundtrack somewhat regularly which is how I can even place it at all. Okay. Donnie Darko. It turns out my neighbor is watching the movie and even though I can barely hear it I was able to place it. 

A little sad? Maybe, but at least I'm not going crazy.

Commentary, Sometimes Funny

I'm not in very bloggy mood today to really write something so here's something I wrote the bulk of last week at some point:

A word of caution to anyone that would be in the same room with me with a movie playing:

I love talking through movies. I can't help myself-- I should note that this applies mainly to movies I've seen or movies that suck. If I'm enjoying a movie that I haven't seen before I'll tend to keep quiet. I like to think that my various comments are funny, but really I'm afraid I'm actually annoying the rest of the group I'm watching the movie with. No one has specifically told me to shut up, so I'll keep assuming no one seriously minds, for the moment at least. And maybe, no one else notices and I'm just being insecure; everyone is laughing and not "shhhhsing" me, so logically I should assume that I'm simply over thinking this.

You would put me down softly if I wasn't funny, right Internet?

Yanowhat, don't answer that; I like denial.

Me Again

Now that the stories over it back to "regular" blogging, well at least I normal as I can actually be...

If there's one nice thing about having all of my lectures on Tuesday and Thursday, its that after a long Thursday my week's over. I still hate Thursday mind you, (Yeah thats right, Thursday, I'm not letting you off the hook this easily) but its nice that my weekend has know officially started. Now I can get over this cold and do a bunch of homework (doesn't that sound charming).

One nice perk of this weekend is that I'll be staying up in Pomona so I can actually get some work done. Since when I go home for the weekend I get absolutely nothing accomplished. And tomorrow I'll be meeting with my potential D&D group. Yay! I hope that that turns out.

Story Extravaganza: Wrap Up

Now that I've finished my story. I'm kinda sad that its over. It was a whole lot of fun. And I'm very, very pleased with all the stories (especially mine (I never said I wasn't biased)). I think everyday I wrote one of the stories  started the writing with no clue where the story would take me. And some days, like my conclusion, were tough. But I definitely enjoyed this and I hope that it also improved my writing abilities. Check out the other blogs if you haven't already. And, internet, I hope you enjoyed this little adventure from normal blogging.

Also on a different note, today marks my four-year anniversary of playing WoW. Which means Meyr turned 4, which in video game years is like 80 years old. Tell me I'm not a nerd?

Story Extravaganza: Part 5

 Yesterday each of the tandem stories will return to their original bloggers for a concluding paragraph, where I was supposed to write the conclusion. Since I had a physics lab to type up, I didn't have time to actually write mine last night and replace the placeholder post then. So with out further ado here is my finished adventure.


It was cold down on the surface. With the scientists still asleep, Jim Fozan was roused awake by the wind. He couldn't seem to adjust to the sound of the howling. He couldn't place why it upset him, but it didn't seem to phase the rest of the expedition. So, he wasn't about to start complaining, he did, however, miss the comfort of his bed. His bed and his wife. He missed her too; well, most of the time. She stayed on Terra. Ember had always hated the idea of space; he lived for space.
The rest of the expedition was largely a civilian group, aside from himself and Jones. All they were concerned with was that the Tablets were on this planet, after a century of research and the code had just been broken, it had to be here; they hoped at least. And they managed to convince the Government that this was indeed the case.
If he was supposed to protect these scientists, it'd be nice if they would actually listen.




The next morning, Fozan paced the extra chamber of the spaceship teporarily designated as the scientists' work room using every ounce of his strength to keep himself shaking some sense into Ferdinand Bemok, one of the leading scientists, an energetic and frail-looking man who apparently needed this expedition to earn his doctorate in xenoplanetary archaeology.
"So you're saying these tablets could literally be anywhere in the largest continent on this planet?"
"Yes"
"And this continent is thirty-million square miles of canyon, rainforrest and desert?"
"Yup"
"And it just so happens that there are about four trillion animal species living there with their own specialized ways of giving you an agonizing death."
"Affirmative."
"And we're just jumping in."
Ferdinand looked up from his stack of papers.
"You know, Foz,"
"Don't call me Foz."
"On the planet I come from, we have balls -- the men at least -- and because of those, we don't worry about a few obstacles, we leap over them. Like men."
"Look, we're not having this conversation because I'm worried about a fer gigantic poisonous rodents, sentient plants or the occasional hurricane-force wind, it's because we've been here for a week and you're only just now telling me how much you don't know. I have a good feeling there's more you're not telling me and keeping secrets from me can and will jeopardize the success of this mission and, you know, the future of your balls."
"Hey, man you're going to have to take that up with Dr. Fitzgerald, he's the archaeological supervisor. For all I know, he told you everything." The insincerity in his voice made Fozan's fingers involuntarily curl into fists. Before he could say more, Fozan heard the muffled sounds of an assistant screaming from the next room and Jones saying something about a stolen canole and calling someone a "pigfucker" or something to that effect.


"SEVEN! SEVEN TIMES I'VE TOLD THEM DON'T TOUCH MY FUCKIN CANOLE! YOU KNOW WHAT THEY DID SEVEN TIMES!?"
"They touched your canole?"
"NO! Well, yes, but not just touch it, they stole it. I'm tired of this job Fozan, we're just glorified security guards."
"Yeah, but they pay is great, and there are some pretty good opportunities here.'
"Fozan, you hate this place as much, if not more, than I do."
Fozan knew that Jones was right, to him this job really sucked. He was thinking to himself, what was Dr. Fitzgerald really after? These so called tablets had to have some special reasoning for them to be out in the hell hole called a planet. The mission briefing said that these tablets were crucial to learning about the history of the universe, but no-one could be this dedicated to the past. Even with the firepower they were packing, they could be killed without even knowing it.
"Jones, I think it's time we talked to Fitzgerald about this operation. Yes, I do mean talking the way we're used to."


12 meters. The hallway to Dr. Fitzgeralds office was 12 meters away. As the two man walk the hall a deep sense of foreboding entered Fozan's mind. It gave him chills the way it used to on Terra, when he had worked with the police. He used to call it his sixth sense, now some pompous doctor on Terra was calling it "Paranormal Detection and Interaction Syndrome."
"What a stupid name," he thought.
5 years he had been subject to test about this; 5 years to tell him what he had already know. That's why he had left in the first place. The feeling now however was much stronger than he had ever felt before. Some serious shit was going down and he needed to be ready. 8 meters. Jones had grabbed a pistol from the arms locker on B deck, and brought him a vest. Jones knew that his partner always carried a weapon, so there was no need to arouse the civis by getting him a bigger one. Jones was nervous, it wasn't like Fozan to rough up civis on a job like this, nromally he liked to play nice. Something was going on. Something big. 5 meters. The hallway was darker than it should of been. A lamp had been broken here during landing. The triangular corridor was lit by one long light on the left side of the floor. It cast strange shadows on the walls. Fozan's mind was scratching at the inside of his head, almost as if it wanted out. 2 meters. They looked at the door not 6 feet from them, and each thought about what they were going to do. Why was this so strange why did it bother them so much? Fozan's mind screamed as they approached the door, and then almost fell silent, as if brooding for the right time to start again. They pressed open. The door took what felt like a millennia to open. They stepped into the doctor's office. Fitzgerald looked at them both.
"Can I help you gentleman?" he said calmly, looking his eyes on a now sweating Fozan.
"Ya doc", Jones barked "Tell us what the hell is going on here. How much more do we not know?"
"I would be happy to, but first I need to make sure of something, Captain, would you kindly?" the doctor motioned to Fozan.
"What are..." Jones was interrupted by the feeling of Fozans gun touch the back of his head "Jim, what the hell are you doing?!?"
"What I tell him" Fitzgerald laughed, "Now I will tell you anything you want to know, but be careful what you ask, you might regret it."
Jones mind wandered, running plans, wondering his chances if he ran for it. 12 meters of straight hallway. Might as well be a pistol range. He would have to play this game, for now.


There was no way out. Whatever this guy was it wasn't human anymore. Maybe he was never human at all. This just wasn't his week; and it wasn't looking like it was about to get any better. At least he had a good fuck the night before. 
"Doc, the way I see it is that you only have two Marines left, me and Jim over here; the other ships never made it down here. And if what ever is on this planet is worth killing me over than it would help you to survive getting there." It was a start, Jones could feel the gun against his scalp slowly lowering. 
"If I wanted you dead I would have already done so. You see, I need you to stop poking around in my business and just do your jobs." something about Fitzgerald was unsettling. Jones stared, trying to displace the feeling of discomfort as he continued talking, "We've almost found the Tablets. Only one last dig and then we can all go home as heroes. No one will know what happened to the other ships or anything else that happened on this planet." he had it. It was his gold-rimmed glasses, they made his blue eyes appear twice as large and wholly four times as piercing. Fitzgerald looked at him unblinking. "Why is it that you think our ship is still intact while none of the others made it?"
"Dammit." a gun clattered to the floor. "Then-- this is Earth, isn't it?"
"Clever, clever Fos. You've all learned the histories about the old human empire. Imagine the power buried below our very feet. The Tablets were created to extend that history, they've already compiled EVERYTHING, we just have to find it. We could end the war and unite humanity again. To return to our former glory."
"And with that power they destroyed themselves. You can't repeat the past," Jones was horrified, as part of the Marine training they studied about Earth and the the Human Dominion. It's fall had started the wars over 2,000 years ago.
"Can't repeat the past? Why of course I can!" 


Do make sure to check out the other Bloggers for the conclusions to their stories.

Story Extravaganza: Part 4

These are starting to get long. Today's story comes from Marlon's Blog, and tomorrow it will be returning there. Which means, tomorrow I'll get to add the conclusion to my story.

I wake up, I put on my overalls and hat, grab my sack of potatoes, and leave. I wake up, I put on my overalls and hat, grab my sack of potatoes, and leave. I wake up, I put on my overalls and hat, grab my sack of potatoes, and leave."Ever sit home and wonder to yourself--" I wake up, I put on my overalls and hat, grab my sack of potatoes, and leave. "if you had a gun to your head," I wake up, I put on my overalls and hat, grab my sack of potatoes, and leave."what are the limits of what you would do and what you wouldn't?" I wake up, I put on my overalls and hat, grab my sack of potatoes, and leave."Well I hope this was on your list of hypothetical scenarios" EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN IS A BLUR . I wake up, I put on my overalls and hat, grab my sack of potatoes, and leave."Because we don't have a lot of time." I don't know what this person thinks; I'm nobody, I've never helped anyone with anything, I have no skills, I'm just a potato man.

How far am I willing to go? Will pulling the trigger help anyone, or will I remain just a potato man? Questions, I find myself asking myself so many questions and finding so little answers. Sometimes I don't even know who I am anymore. I hold this guns, as I have many times before. This time, this time will be different, this time I will know what the limit of what I would do. Death is just another beginning, but I just can't find the time to start. What are the limits of what I would do? I guess this is just beyond that limit. Why do I want to hold on to my life? Maybe I'm not meant for death, maybe today I can finally help someone, maybe today I will no longer be just a potato man.

I looked up from the diary, pondering the words that sat before me. These guys are fucked up. Seriously. I looked out across the landscape of Venus. It was a beautiful place, since the Dluzak corporation has teraformed it. The purple sky, was a decent shade, and the sky was clear. Sadly I still had to wear a breather. Two Champion class fighters flew over my head as I flicked my cigarette pack into the distance. The diary was found deep inside the relics of the third planet in the solar system. Those scientists, there crazy, they feel at one point the third planet may have not only been blue, but inhabited. The natural radiation levels, were now much to high to support life, but they are speculating now that thousands of years ago, there were people on that planet. That some kind of great cataclysms killed them all off. I focused back on the Diary and read on.

I wake up, I put on my overalls and hat, grab my sack of potatoes, and leave. There's a moment when you snap; when you realize that every moment is the same.  I wake up, I put on my overalls and hat, grab my sack of potatoes, and leave. What would you do to escape? What are the limits of what you would do and what you wouldn't?  I wake up, I put on my overalls and hat, grab my sack of potatoes, and leave. Maybe today I can finally help someone-- I wake up, I put on my overalls and hat, grab my sack of potatoes, and leave-- to live and be more than a potato man.  I wake up, I put on my overalls and hat, grab my sack of potatoes, and leave. "if you had a gun to your head," I wake up, I put on my overalls and hat, grab my sack of potatoes, and leave. EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN IS A BLUR. I wake up, I put on my overalls and hat, grab my sack of potatoes, and leave. BANG. I wake up.