. . . . . entries for 30.11.08 . . . . .
Also: I have more dragon eggs, but God help me if I try to keep them up. Yikes.
As Thanksgiving weekends go, this one has been pretty awesome. Cocoa walk was awesome, hanging out with Frank was awesome, melting into my ludicrously toasty bed was awesome. Thank you, all those responsible, for awesomizing my break. I hope I added a little bit of awesome (with whipped cream and ground cinnamon) to your break too.
Today I drive back to school, where, I remind myself, I live most of the time. I wonder how I might begin to feel so content, so much the center of people relaxing and being happy together, there - but it's a very different sort of place, and everyone is scrambling to seem the most remarkable individual possible, so ardently do they believe that they're surrounded by remarkable people worth impressing. Princetonians are fairly remarkable, I'm sure, but there is also a lot of pretense there, a lot of fear and guardedness - at least, I feel it (so I suspect I am a source of it). Maybe I'll get over it as I rise into the ranks of those with determined majors and a few semesters' experience. I certainly hope I will, right before I serendipitously stumble upon a time-turner I will use to get a little more sleep and spend a little more time seeking out people who would do well on cocoa walks.
That Ivy League underclassman (or maybe "just me") feeling of crushing inferiority has me worried about the summer, about being where I want to be. When I read this post again, I hope to remind myself to go after it, not to forget it in the drowsy haze that is academic life. Carpe jugulum, et cetera, et cetera.
. . . . . entries for 25.11.08 . . . . .
I may not sleep, but this paper is going to be legit if I can push myself to do the outline as I've planned and started. Srsly.
(Reassurances: I have outlined this damn thing in way more detail than is remotely normal for me, and I tend to compile works cited pages before actually writing these days. I am behind but not so behind that I can't pull something off.)
Watch: it will return to me with the gentle red ink equivalent of "WTF?" written all over it. Oh well.
In ostensibly unrelated news, the gnome dance was born this night, in the throes of my gnomehood/gnome hood. Actually I was trying to undo the cramp that was curled in my left calf by jumping around and kicking, not really consciously dancing, but Kelsey really enjoyed it. :P Late at night, Erin's thrashings-about become very damned funny.
. . . . . entries for 24.11.08 . . . . .
I must be the only person who says "godspeed" in a non-joking way anymore. :P
Preface to this and future blogs: rarely do I have a conversation here that is not "intellectual." My roommates and I constantly end up discussing the "deep" and "profound" and "abstract" or whatever. It is our way; it's weird, and I guess emblematic of what Kelsey, Ting and I thought Princeton should be like. That part, anyway, is spot on.
Actual blog: I was talking to Kelsey today about literature. She loves Oscar Wilde and F. Scott Fitzgerald, neither of whom I have read. I love Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett and Neal Stephenson, only the lattermost of whom she has read, and whom she did not particularly enjoy; she put down Snow Crash a short way in. She said that he felt like the sci-fi/fantasy version of Dan Brown, which incensed me. I've never read Dan Brown, but what I have heard makes me assume that the writing is shallow and quick and mediocre, and people stick with it only for the mystery-style exposition.
(Kelsey also doesn't care about the subjuctive in English or "whom," she revealed the other day. This maddens me.)
That led to a discussion of our different aesthetics of literature. I learned that, in general, Kelsey is very drawn to literature of a certain style, with, I think, a heavy seasoning of the poetic within the prose. I value the images evoked by the language, and broader meanings of interactions in the plot (rather than microcosmic, metaphorical suggestion) much more - although I also value a dash of poetry here and there. I can't help but think she must not have gotten far enough into Snow Crash; she must not have given it a chance, I reason.
It may bespeak something more encompassing than my taste in literature. I want social commentary; I want a world before I want words, though I do want words. I think it is good that I am not pursuing an English major. Social science will suit me better, even if I write fiction. I want to write the fiction of the world, with words tagging along - never the other way around. I want to stand by that essay I wrote for HUM last year, "Truth: Best Used in Fiction." Maybe I'll litblog it. If you've read all the way through this already, you might find it pleasantly illuminating.
Simple requests: better posture, more energy, less expensive fancy coffee, a few hours in which to sleep. Any one of them would make my night. (I have a 5-paragraph essay to write.)
Oh, by the way. Rhodes Scholars have been announced. There are three this round from Princeton, each of whom I read about in the Daily Prince. "Augh - I am inferior. I am inferior. Why am I at this place at which I am so consummately mediocre?" is how I feel about all that. Somehow, sometime, I will perhaps learn to psych myself out of it. I was getting better for a while. Maybe if I had some worthy deed under my belt, if I pushed myself and did something way outside my comfort zone. Maybe I could, for example, take the Princeton semester in Kenya next year, although I suspect I might need to know a language I do not know. I need to believe that such things are achievable, to, like many great people have, dismiss the idea of impossibility.
Hey, two of my dragons hatched. That's good, because I have a paper to write tonight, and I really can't fixate on the life-or-death peril of pixel eggs anymore.
Mama Ostrowski and I went to Lancaster to see Frank swim last Saturday. It was a little odd, and at times quite depressing, to be within a couple hundred yards of the kid for several hours but to actually communicate with him for maybe twenty minutes. His coaches were excited that I was there, and Frank's friend (Kevin I want to say?) suggested that he and I have been having an affair under Frank's nose. SO NOT TRUE. And very disorienting when he brought it up.
"So how much have you told him?"
". . . ?"
"About our affair!"
"Oh . . . uh . . . well, I wasn't going to . . ."
My lame attempt at playing along was really astoundingly lame.
Talking to Mama O in the car and at dinner on Friday and Saturday was cool, and informative, even if I was way sleepy.
. . . . . entries for 20.11.08 . . . . .
Latest ridiculous phase. Comes in four lovely colors:
. . . . . entries for 19.11.08 . . . . .
I'm becoming less anxious as the year rolls on. Slowly but surely, my classmates descend from their abstracted states as "OMG! Princeton students!" to become the less intimidating, realer people they probably are.
This makes me feel better about my own feet of clay. (Is that the right way to use that figure of speech? I know it refers to the feet of idols in part, belying their falsehoods, but it seems like it could also mean the feet of Man, made of mud as he is.)
In any case: it makes me think that maybe someday I could shed my nervous wreckitude entirely, or at least more. Maybe I could even be consistently content sometime or other.
. . . . . entries for 18.11.08 . . . . .
I am taking 100% social science classes next semester, if all goes as planned:
SOC/ANT 319: People, Things, and Animals
PSY 251: Quantitative Methods
PSY 255: Cognitive Psychology
ECO 100: Introduction to Microeconomics
WWS/ENV 334: Global Environmental Issues
I'm bitter about having to take PSY 251, but I don't think there's any worming my way out of it, unless I drop it once I get into WWS (if I get into WWS). I am bitter because I will then have to take a WWS-specific stats/evidence class on top of it, and the WWS courses along those lines are for WWS majors and certificate students only. I am not one yet. Shoot.
Well, anyway. Excited about WWS and SOC especially, can't very well escape from ECO if I major in WWS, and PSY is my "well shit I'd better have a back-up major" thing. Although at this point I would honestly prefer to major in ENV, which would be an exciting endeavor into independent concentration, but perhaps not entirely independent. I may have a confederate. She may be reading this RIGHT NOW. :P
They would probably make us take chemistry or geoscience or something. Clearly I need to look into it more. But think! I'd already have so much of my major completed - three classes as of this semester, four as of the next. Ho hum. We shall see. (We, my pod?)
. . . . . entries for 16.11.08 . . . . .
Weekend update!
Friday night, we attempted to see the new Bond movie, to no avail - sold out when we got there. So we went to B&N, then to the Princeton Diner, where I accidentally ordered a very epic chocolate shake with my blueberry pancakes. Good times were had by all. Then we saw Iron Man, and more good times were had by all.
Today, we were pseudo-productive until after dinner, at which point we got totally soaked walking down to the car to go to the mall. We were deterred, but not deterred enough. At the mall, I acquired a pretty new dress, a pretty new shirt, and straight-legged jeans for wearing with heels and being sassy. Woo.
I had better be more legitimately productive today.
. . . . . entries for 14.11.08 . . . . .
The only real problem causing the blog to die is its age. Seriously. Look at the length of the archives list. Maybe I should get a drop-down menu for that sucker, eh?
The blog is dying. I shall feed it tasty information.
I need to make three-ish phone calls today or as early as I can manage next week, probably after I get back from my orthodontist records appointment at 2. Tomorrow I am going to the mall with the suitemates +/- Mari (who has a boyfriend) and/or Yianni (who does not like shopping with girls, especially not in Victoria's Secret, regarding the scent of which he is apparently traumatized). There may be a movie. What I am kind of shopping for: a dark-colored cardigan (burgundy perhaps) and straight-legged jeans, for I own none and covet a pair. And cool things. But overall, I don't want to spend excessively. Duh. Orthodontics are expensive. (Orthodonture isn't a word? My dad uses it all the time. Hm. :P)
Calc quiz went. . . um? . . . yeah. I don't know. Everyone seemed to think it very difficult, and it did seem a little odd in the choice of stuff to solve. Whatever.
Interesting fact: the word "neurotic," as we understand it in the lay world, means "emotional" (as applied to a person) in the legitimate psychology world. I don't know if there's even such a thing as a "neurosis" in the legitimate psychology world. If there is, I don't think it's what we mean when we say "neurosis."
. . . . . entries for 13.11.08 . . . . .
If Liz Phair and P.J. Harvey got into a fight . . .
People are astonishing, in whichever sense of the term you prefer.
. . . . . entries for 11.11.08 . . . . .
There is a spot near the toes of my left foot that does not like me. I have no idea why not; I have been nothing but considerate to it.
The future-planning tangent of the moment involves this, and wondering whether internships in it exist, and in general angsting over what I'm going to take next semester/major in/do with my life.
Might I want to major in . . . anthropology!?
Tonight, Erin teaches herself some calculus. And does a problem set. And maybe reads for WWS. (Oh good grief I am bad at such structureless learning.)
I want MRIs and psychoanalytical sessions. Not for me, in particular - although, yes, for me too - but for some other people. I want diagnoses. I want to know if I'm right. And what if I am?
. . . . . entries for 10.11.08 . . . . .
I love autumn. It is beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. It is there no matter how sad or neurotic or lost I get.
You audacious so-and-so!
A question for comment debate: which was the more respectable reason to vote for the Republican ticket this fall - fiscal conservatism or social conservatism? Assume, for the sake of discussion, that any given voter had only one of these paradigms in mind when s/he entered the ballot box.
DO NOT READ THIS BEFORE ANSWERING, please please please! [Kelsey thinks that fiscal conservatism is more reasonable. Depending on one's fiscal situation, she argues, it may be a rationally self-interested move to vote Republican. She views social conservatism as intolerant. (Obviously her side isn't very well-developed because I am not her, and I don't want to get on her back about it tonight because she has an orgo midterm in an hour and a half.) I view social conservatism as a matter of moral belief that cannot be disproved (at least in many cases), whereas empirical information shows that the overall effects of fiscally conservative policies are negative. I do not accept the notion that self-interested voting for lower taxes is acceptable when voting on the basis of individual belief is not. I also think that, in order to vote for the Republican ticket, you have to at least accept as neutral both sides of conservatism. To accept as neutral the fiscal side strikes me as less egregious than to similarly bypass the social side. That bit, though, is less relevant to the core of what I'm asking, and I'm far less certain about it.]
One of my EEB professors' friends thinks that we are hospice-keepers of a dying way of life, that everything is going to change. I wonder. I do wonder.
Revelation: working to the betterment of others is the only thing a hopelessly self-absorbed woman can do. Otherwise, she'd get so wrapped up in her work that she'd crumble - not that she won't crack a little regardless, because everything, after all, is about her.
. . . . . entries for 8.11.08 . . . . .
A bit groggy. And driving to visit The Sister soon. Meep!
. . . . . entries for 7.11.08 . . . . .
Another Christmas addition: one of these, in Version A. Purple or grass green would be awesome and novel.
Is it possible that something about my environment over the past year and a half has made me less intelligent?
Mari, while breaking into our room through my window (which is now locked), broke the painted egg my sister got me as an early Christmas present last year. Now everything that has ever hung from the lamp is either broken or lost.
I am very drowsy today and not really sure why. I have no good excuse. Yes, I was sleepy yesterday, for lack of sleep, but meh. I hope this morning's skipped calc class will not end me.
. . . . . entries for 6.11.08 . . . . .
So hey! I went to NYC with my EEB professor. It was cool, though we were both exhausted by the end of it and I started off apprehensive. I now know a completely inappropriately large portion of her life story, but that's cool, because we both lack senses of faculty-student propriety. Word.
She went to Reed for undergrad and loves curry. Painting her toenails (bright turquoise) cheers her up, and she was very embarrassed about accidentally teaching barefoot one time. I noticed that one time, and told her so; I just think that makes her more endearing (and more eerily like me). She hasn't put roots down anywhere American in ages and has a box of belongings waiting for her in Kenya. I am pleased that I have discovered these things, pleased to think that, once she leaves in December, I can legitimately make a claim on keeping in touch with her.
On the business end of things, OMG I am tired and I have calc in nine hours and I need to get cracking on research and ideas for my WWS/EEB paper, which apparently can kind of go down, maybe, probably. "It'll all work out."
. . . . . entries for 5.11.08 . . . . .
I don't think my brain is working.
I like this black dress, but not the way its dye rubs off and turns my skin a little bit gray. :P
I am very self-critical, but not energetic and hopeful enough to try to change what I see wrong with myself. This is a problem.
Three things:
1) Amorality/self-centeredness? I was giving my roommates the Kohlberg moral development "test," and I realized that I myself never inserted the word or notion "moral" into the equation; I only considered what I would actually do, how I would feel. (Interestingly, I think I reasoned through it more when Jenny gave it to me a year and a half ago, though I don't remember my conclusion.) I may have been going about the test incorrectly, but I don't think so. I think I am just more respectful of my feelings than my thoughts, which is not a very moral, or giving, way to be. So what then of who I appear to be, who I want to be - a great communicator, an advocate for the cause, one to lift up friends and strangers? Who is that person? I wondered, and went out on a limb to wonder, if I was more aware of mortality than a lot of folks my age, and therefore more focused on my own feelings, whether or not I'm okay with being alive at any given moment, whether or not I find my effect and my experience worthwhile. The bottom line appears to be that I am an emo kid at heart. Or something.
2) Introversion. If I want to stay in touch with people or get to know people, I need to, you know, do it. Hoping that it'll happen while bumming around being melancholy won't get me anywhere.
3) Lethargy. What I said before the numbered list started, and my intellectual habits. My parents must have called me "smart" instead of saying "well done" when I was little. I have never been a studier or a striver. If I care about something, I'll put effort into it and try to make it as good as I can, but only insofar as it satisfies me; I'm easily discouraged and distracted. Once I'm into something I *can* care about it, though, and I *can* make it good - it just takes a lot of doing, and a lot of emotional investment, to get me there. So then if it turns out that it *does* fail, if I *didn't* do well, I am doubly broken up about it.
. . . and this isn't really related, but I think I was more articulate three or so years ago, when I read more things that I liked. I used high-level vocab more often and didn't ramble as much. Sigh.
This reflection brought to you mostly by PSY 101. For which I need to do a lab tonight. Grrrrr.
Preliminary Christmas list bits: pretty blanket for car (I think my parents are getting it for me), perhaps a digital camera (would this only lead to vice and distraction?), dorky online things (like girl T-shirts from webcomics, or that Dresden Codak philosophy D&D poster), direction, focus . . .
. . . . . entries for 4.11.08 . . . . .
. . . :)
I don't know what to say. But it has all come down to this. And even Virginia, and even Florida.
America is my country again. I am proud of me, proud of everyone. And now we can start again. It'll be a rough term, but it'll also be the best term. It will be the beginning of a new and better history.
I can't wait until he speaks.
I would just like to give a big Howard Dean YEAAAAH! for the Philly suburbs! WE DID IT, COLLEGE DEMS!!!!
Ohio's looking blue and Obama just pulled ahead in Virginia!!!
!!!
I think it may take substantial restraint to learn the lessons of the victor, if indeed we are victorious. I will want to much to dance on the grave of neo-conservatism, to laugh in the faces of people who would run the risk of having Palin at the helm, but Barack himself has stressed that we can't be assholes like that. We can celebrate, but we have to cooperate. Democrats will have to prove that they deserve power by sharing it, civilly and sensibly.
. . . I think I don't have to think that way until tomorrow, though. Until then I am at war with those bastards, and I will help win Pennsylvania.
I can't believe someone as brilliant and awe-inspiring and himself faithful in his country and his cause may really win this. It's too dreamlike. But whoever wins, it'll be a hard four years. I'm not sure Obama's legacy could be as heartwrenchingly beautiful and moving as his campaign, because it will run in reality, not in narrative, and this reality is in a sorry state.
And I'm still profoundly worried that he's going to get us into a war with Pakistan, even if it's easy to forget when caught up in his charisma, in the chant of the crowd:
YES! WE! CAN!
. . . well, in any case. He is not perfect, as he himself has admitted. I think he's afraid too many believe in him too much, and we may. He's too good at what he does. But he is, at least, good. And I can believe in that.
Why isn't more American democracy like this or this? Why did I only start hearing about props in the past few days? Why aren't there more direct democracy initiatives in NY?
Hello America,
It's November 4, 2008.
Let's see what you're made of.
. . . . . entries for 3.11.08 . . . . .
Too many classes I would have to apply for! TOO MANY!
Considering the validity of taking a creative nonfiction class for frosh and sophs only, which would eliminate the possibility of two ENV seminars (including the WWS one and the writing one) and land me in a) environmental history b) environmental justice or c) no ENV, and instead, most likely, something POL (mass media?). Or I could take something POL with my ENV and abandon the creative nonfiction or other JRN (journalism) idea.
Hmph, scheduling. At least I'm really excited about poetry and sociology. :P
This is weird. Shannon did it on her blog, and I thought it could be interesting on mine. A little unlike Shannon, I invite you to ask (not in comments, elsewhere) if you think something is about you and you're worried.
"Here's a list of things I want to say to people. A person may or may not appear more than once on the list; I won't tell you if you or that other person are or are not on the list.
How many are about you?"
1. I think you're growing up, and I'm glad, because you needed to.
2. You are quite impressively histrionic, but I like you anyway.
3. Sometimes I tell you what you want to hear, because what I actually feel would hurt you, and I don't want to hurt you.
4. I wonder if you're as twisted as he thinks; if you are, then you're probably happy to have screwed up the lives of those around you. Congratulations.
5. We could be great friends; I need someone like you here. Let's make time and hang out together.
6. You're so good. I wish you could see more good in the world. I want to make the world better for you.
7. You were so important to me, and I was so important to you. I think you're okay now but that doesn't mean we should stop talking.
8. I can't believe how horrible I was to you, and you thanked me for it. I did some things right but I did a lot wrong. I'm sorry.
9. I would stay up all night for you.
10. You are beautiful like a work of art. I want to sculpt you and draw you.
11. I don't know where - or who - I'd be without you.
12. I will spend my life fighting for you. If I stop fighting for you, make me start again.
13. I think you went through it backwards. I hope everything works out.
14. You are brilliant and a little bit insane, but there must be someone who will see and appreciate and love you for it. Until then and always, I'm here.
15. Why did you reach out to me? We don't even know each other that well. I still want to know what happened.
16. You are magnificent and intimidating. Know it. Live as large as you are.
17. We're both messed up but we're still pretty fucking lucky, for our separate reasons. Revel in it - I know you know how.
18. I'm not sure whether or not I'm happy we don't have a lot in common. We don't compete with one another much, which keeps the peace, but maybe competition would be interesting. Maybe it would give us more to talk about.
19. Our friendship is mysterious. It must be a girl bonding thing because we don't have much else in common.
20. The not-so-secret secret is that you're the hardest worker there. See? Everyone knows it.
21. What the fuck, man? I don't get you.
22. Be brave. Think and act on your own terms. You'll be happier with yourself.
23. We're so similar and so different. I wonder about us.
24. I'm sorry for leading you on. I suck at restraining flirtatious impulses.
25. You have shaped me more than you know, and I have shaped you back a little; you don't know that either.
26. Sometimes I forget who you are and why I care about you, but I want to remember. Keep reminding me.
27. You seem to follow my life in funny little ways. Why? What's so special about me?
28. I hope we have more occasions to run into and get to know each other. We've already had a few but I'm no good at starting things.
29. Don't forget me as you get busier and further/farther away. I still think about you and care about you, and if you're reading this, you must feel that way about me, at least a little.
You Are 36% Democrat |
 You're a bit Democrat, and probably more liberal than you realize. If you're still voting Republican, maybe it's time that you stop. |
I think the political quizzes on blogthings are completely asinine, extreme in their views of parties, and oversimplified, but then . . . it is blogthings.
So hey, I'm getting out the vote in Bucks County, Pennsylvania tomorrow from 4:30 'til 9. I count upon all y'all to vote, or to have voted, wherever you are or wherever you're registered, 'cause I'm part of this. You, too, I think, would be happier looking back and thinking, "yeah, I made history that day. I was part of that."
Creative writing went nicely today. I wonder if the comments written on my story are as pleasant as those brought up in class. From now until I pick up my PPN stack at 4:30 (with champagne, apparently [wtf?]), I think I will indulge and read them.
. . . . . entries for 2.11.08 . . . . .
I feel much happier since being with Frank again, much warmer, almost removed from my usual grating reality. I like it; I just wish it didn't feel so much like a dream diverting me from "important things."
The parents have gone home, and I am sitting on my comfy couch in my cozy dorm room. I am the last denizen of 14.5 to be taking 5 classes this term, which is weird. I need to look at classes for next semester, because they are up and, yea verily, I will be here then.
I slept very well last night, which may make me evil or devoid of conscience, or maybe just addicted to my mattress pad. Hm.
SOC 319 looks good.
Today (by now, yesterday) was a very lovely day. And I survived to tell you so.
. . . . . entries for 1.11.08 . . . . .
White. Freakin'. Rabbit.
Whenever I go to Union I feel as though I become one of innumerable targets of indiscriminate flirtation. On this particular occasion, the wench outfit probably didn't help. Ho hum.
I am going back to school today. My stuff is in the wash. Sleep probably comes before the stuff, and the packing, and the inevitable long-drive-drama.
Sometimes I wonder if the thing I am looking forward to will ever come, if, in the words of a Ph.D friend of mine, the light at the end of the tunnel is actually a train. That sounds melodramatic, but if I'm going to live teleologically, I had better get to the damned telos. I don't want to keep clawing away at a future only to fail to arrive there.
It sounds . . . overintellectualized and nevertheless silly. But this bed is awful cold and empty. I wonder if the time can come when missing will be resolved, when missing, instead of contentment, will be temporary.
For the two Halloweens before this one, we were together.
come home?
.:people:.
{ting}
she looks like the real thing
{mari}
out and about
[kelsey]
THIS IS AMERICA
{yianni}
stop being depressed
{alisa}
other
[shannon]
close and far
{frank}
islands where no islands should go
[cassie]
eating knowledge
{colin}
my dm
[emily]
shoulder to the wheel
[brian]
nostalgic for fantasy
[nicole]
industry insider
{elle}
angry enviro
[matt]
never heard of miyazaki
[pirate dan]
are you reading this?
[olga]
distracted
[messiah dan]
messiah/believer
{max}
approach focus
[natalie]
wait a minute
[susan]
solitude
{greg}
manbeargreg
.:past:.
April 2002
May 2002
June 2002
July 2002
August 2002
September 2002
October 2002
November 2002
December 2002
January 2003
February 2003
March 2003
April 2003
May 2003
June 2003
July 2003
August 2003
September 2003
October 2003
November 2003
December 2003
January 2004
February 2004
March 2004
April 2004
May 2004
June 2004
July 2004
August 2004
September 2004
October 2004
November 2004
December 2004
January 2005
February 2005
March 2005
April 2005
May 2005
June 2005
July 2005
August 2005
September 2005
October 2005
November 2005
December 2005
January 2006
February 2006
March 2006
April 2006
May 2006
June 2006
July 2006
August 2006
September 2006
October 2006
November 2006
December 2006
January 2007
February 2007
March 2007
April 2007
May 2007
June 2007
July 2007
August 2007
September 2007
October 2007
November 2007
December 2007
January 2008
February 2008
March 2008
April 2008
May 2008
June 2008
July 2008
August 2008
September 2008
October 2008
November 2008
December 2008
January 2009
February 2009
March 2009
April 2009
May 2009
June 2009
July 2009
August 2009
September 2009
October 2009
November 2009
December 2009
January 2010
February 2010
March 2010
April 2010
May 2010
June 2010
July 2010
August 2010
September 2010
October 2010
November 2010
December 2010
January 2011
February 2011
March 2011
April 2011
May 2011
June 2011
July 2011
August 2011
November 2011
January 2012
February 2012
March 2012
June 2012
April 2013
May 2013
June 2013
.:skin:.
turtles! turtles! by araglas
(heavily modified by yours truly)