What even is writing?
Entry 8: Hair, hair, hair

Let me start this off by saying I have pretty nice hair. It gets greasy really easily but it’s fine and I have a lot of it. My mom once said “A French hair-stylist would love your hair because it’s so fine and you have so much of it” My mom has also expressed a creepy desire to “borrow” my hair because her own hair is so thin and brittle. (because she dyes the shit out of it) I’m planning to cut it soon and have even started drawing myself with the hair cut I plan to get.


A few minutes ago I saw a cool tutorial on this fancy braid on youtube and decided to try it. I failed miserably and used just normal office rubberbands that caused unnecessary yanking and pain when I took them off. I managed to tear out some choice strands of hair in the process. I think that hair-stylists the world over hate me because I have nice hair that I don’t do much with, damage with careless brushing,  and always want to cut it short.

Entry 7: Observation on my posts

Wow I didn’t really intend to just write about myself but for some reason I’m finding it easier to just do that than make up characters? oh well…I only have one person reading them so I guess it doesn’t really matter. I never was a fan of “blogs” or “tweeting” where people explain stuff they’ve bought or what plans they have over the weekend. Who cares?

LOL. So here I am writing about my boring self. But I made a deal/promise with my friend and I intend to keep it.

Even if I am running behind.

Entry 6: Focus Kichi Focus

So the other day I was lucky enough to go to Disney Land. I will now share with you exact thoughts as I was attempting to meet up with my mom and brother after checking some ride times:

I wonder when Toon Town closes?

I hope that I can ride that Roger Rabbit ride.

Ohhhhh those Churros smell good. Focus Kichi! Focus.

Hmm…churros smell good but I don’t think I actually want one. NOTHING will compare to that amazing Churro I had at that resteraunt one time. What was I doing again?

Where did mom go anyway?

It’s a really nice night tonight.

Ugh I don’t want to go to school tomorrow. What time is it anyway?

Oh there they are.

This all happened in about a minute and a half XD

Entry 5: Sushi run

Class ended and the students slowly one by one left the cinema sized computer screens and headed off to other classes or food. That’s where I was headed. Today was the day. I had money in my pocket. Enough in fact for sushi down from a local eatery that sold decent quality low priced sushi.

I invited my friend along and we were off. The sky had cleared as if giving us it’s blessing for our voyage. We walked down the hill my recent trip to Disneyland making the walk effortless by comparison.

We came.

We ordered.

WE SUSHI-ED.

While we waited for our food there was a movie playing on the screen that I am determined to find and watch. I do not know the name of it but it involved a city being attacked and a room full of calligraphy students trying to escape. Their teacher however silences them all and commands them to continue practicing their calligraphy even as arrows shoot through their hall. An arrow shoots one of the student’s calligraphy practice sticks. So he casually grabs an incoming arrow shaft, breaks the head off of it and continues practicing. The attack retreats and reports to the general that: the townspeople didn’t give two fucks while they were being shot at, and, that their army should quit before the townspeople start to give one.

After we received our food we walked back up the hill victorious with our sushi.

Entry 4: On procrastination

I’ll fill this post in later.

Entry 3 : R is for Revenge

"And the R stands for…"The teacher called in a sing song voice.

"Revenge!" The children chanted back.

"Very good!"

It was just another day at the Luthor Villain’s Elementary School. A small time villain named Mr. GrappleGanger was the pleasant but evil teacher of this particular class. His grappling hook hands, to which his name referred clumsily turned the pages of the Evil Alphabet book for his class. The pages were full of holes from previous read-throughs; it was the class’s favorite.

"T is for…." Mr. GrappleGanger said.

"Tyranny!" The children finished.

"Very good!" He answered ripping the next page slightly as he flipped it. They continued on from U for Uranium to Z for Zap.

After that the children got out their crayons and began to formulate their evil plans and weapons while breaking and stealing their fellow classmates’  crayons. Mr. GrappleGanger let out a happy sigh as he watched the villains future rivalries and evil traits surface at such a young age. It felt good to make a difference in the world. 

Entry 2: On Brussel Sprouts and Boiled Asparagus

Very few foods activate my gag reflex. Congratulations to these two foods as they succeed where all other foods on the planet fail.

There will be a double post today because I forgot to post yesterday.

Entry 1 Topic: Names

Kichi. That’s the nickname I picked for myself one day. It’s not my real name it happens to start with the same letter as my real one which is Kelsey.  As a kid I loved going through my baby trunk and anything that was hidden in closets or shelves. When I found my mom’s old “baby names” book I immediately started flipping through the pages.  I saw my older brother’s name circled and I began to search for my own. I searched up and down the girls’ names section and realized my name wasn’t there. Curious I flipped to the boy’s section and there it was; Highlighted in obnoxious yellow. The entry read something like this:

Kelsey:

Origin: Norwegian

Meaning: Dweller from ship island.

Variations: Kelsea, kelcy, etc.

I didn’t mind that my name was supposed to be a boy’s name except when people would say something about the famous actor Kelsey Grammar who I knew nothing about. I hated the meaning for a long time because it really didn’t make much sense. “Dweller from ship island”? That wasn’t even a complete sentence!  But I was stuck with it.

Like many people as they grow up I grew tired of hearing the same name attached to myself. I would hunt through that baby name book in my spare time looking for a more suitable, exotic name to describe me. As I went through middle-school I met some friends and got into anime and became infatuated with Japanese culture.  We re-named ourselves Japanese names and my friends received names that meant distinct things but I was left with “K-chan” . I had been reduced to a letter and a Japanese honorific. I didn’t hate the name and only my friends called me that but I still wished I had a better name. For a while I hunted for something to give meaning to the “K”

My first year of highschool passed without too much trouble. For sophomore year I had to switch high schools for a year. When I found a crowd of people to hang out with they began asking my name and what I would want to be called. I was ready this time. I had searched through my Japanese to English dictionary, checked to make sure it didn’t mean “flaming horse crap” or something equally regrettable and told them “Kichi.” It was short, exotic, and easy to remember. According to my book it just happens to mean “wit”. I outgrew my weeaboo phase. I didn’t add chan, or san to anything anymore. When people ask my name I’ll answer Kichi. And that’s the story of how I became the white girl with the Asian name.