Minus One. (#85-91)

A note from the author:

“Whoa! What is this? Why did the comic suddenly jump to the present day?! Wait, and all those comics were taking place a year ago?”

I hadn’t originally planned the comic this way– it was supposed to be linear, from the start of Max’s story to the end! However, my comic was going to be implemented into the study (you know, the real-life one where people are actually using this cell phone app) when the participants were already a year in. Therefore, my boss wanted me to start the story when Max is already a year in, so people could relate better. I still wanted to have the stuff from when he started using the app, though, and somehow how to integrate this in. And thus, the time jumping. I know it’s a bit confusing in the first couple of weeks, and I apologize! From here on out time shall proceed normally.

Spontaneous comics from a scatterbrained student

This is my life right now:

I’m sure you all understand. School, work, life– they’re busy, yo!

So you’ll have to excuse me if I don’t write a proper post, but instead regale you with the disorganized, sporadic ramblings of a stressed college student. Whatever. This is my blog. I do what I want!

(I thought cooking for myself meant I would eat less. I’m not eating in the buffet-style dining hall, after all. WRONG!)

(I like to keep myself in denial about my schoolwork. Speaking of denial…)

(It seems like only yesterday that it was a beautiful 80 degrees… how is it the first day of fall tomorrow?!)

(I totally still want to make a video blog, though. Even if I suck at it.)

And that’s all I’m giving you. There are so so so many posts I want to write, but haven’t found the time for. I apologize profusely– I’m a bad blogger, I know, and as the semester continues to build posts may get more and more, uh, sporadic. I’ll keep doing my best! You do too!

(I’m pretty sure that’s the closest to a stream-of-consciousness post I’ve gotten. I’ll try not to go all Holden Caulfield too often, I promise.)

Welcome to the world of mobile internet

My parents did not know what to get me for my birthday this year. They decided to ask me directly.

I, never opposed to receiving things, answered swiftly.

My mother was especially distressed. She did not just want to give me money, as she knew I would save it away in my bank account forever and ever. Yet all the things I wanted were not really practical. She consulted my dad, who happens to be in love with his newfangled Blackberry Playbook:

And he decided to get an iTouch for me. Now, I’ve never had a smartphone/smart device before. I actually just got texting last year. I’ve always believed that, while smartphones are nice and all, there’s no need for one. I remember my middle school days when kids would always get iPods and iPhones and whatever newfangled devices were out there.

And really, at that age, there’s no need for one. Now, though, I’m in college. I’m almost not-a-teen! I could use an iTouch, right?

Regardless, I was super excited to get my iTouch. I mean, the internet! Instant knowledge whenever I wanted! I could go on Wikipedia at any time! Google things! Look up maps when I was lost! Yes– I would never be lost again! I opened the box with the greatest reverence.

And you always read about all those fancy new apps people are designing. I read PopSci. You can turn your iTouch into a remote control! Use it to start your car! Deposit checks! The possibilities are endless! I had an incredibly powerful piece of technology here, one that could do anything! I just felt so incredibly advantaged to have access to this technology. This was it!

So now, what was I going to go with this little technological marvel? Why, what anyone else would do, of course.

Yeah. I guess I’m just another spoiled suburban kid.

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(Okay, okay. So I do check my e-mail and stuff on the iTouch. And I finished reading The Picture of Dorian Gray as a result of this iTouch. I DO THINGS WITH IT! I SWEAR!)

Do you remember 9/11?

Last July I visited New York City with my German host sister and my real sister. We decided to visit the nearly completed 9/11 Memorial, built where the World Trade Center once stood. The memorial wasn’t quite open to the public yet– to get in, we had to line up at the 9/11 Visitor’s Center and get tickets.

The memorial featured two gigantic waterfalls and reflecting pools in the two exact spots where the Twin Towers were. Around each pool, the nearly 3,000 names of the deceased were carved in bronze. The pools were surrounded by trees, stone walkways, and newly planted grass. All around the plaza, we were dwarfed by the construction of the new World Trade Center.

Visitors were cheerfully walking around, chatting, and smiling for photos. It was a warm July day, after all, and sunny, and we were lucky enough to have gotten into the memorial before its official coronation. The place was packed with people.

The September 11th attacks happened over a decade ago, in 2001. I had only just turned eight. That September, I was just starting the third grade. My teacher that year (Mrs. Casey) had a little morning activity called “Casey’s News.” Each day, she would assign one kid to look up the weather and another to look up current events. The next morning, these two kids would come into class, stand inside this big cardboard box painted to look like a TV, and present what they had found. It was a fun little tradition she had been doing for years in the hopes of getting kids to pay attention to the news.

On the morning of September 11th, I was assigned to get the current event.

My school, unlike most schools in my area, didn’t close that day. My sister tells me that many kids were picked up by their parents, though. I simply remember taking the bus, walking home, and checking the internet to see what was up and happening in the world.

Naturally, you can imagine what I found.

In all of the horrifying images and videos, however, I just didn’t understand what had happened. I don’t know why. I was only eight. My vocabulary was limited. I had watched war movies before. I just didn’t quite get the news articles I was finding. I recall asking my mom, that day,

I don’t remember her face when she answered.

Although I didn’t fully understand the scope of 9/11, I knew that it was big. I therefore proudly presented my newsflash the next day.

The horrors of 9/11, then not fully understood by my eight-year-old self, quickly vanished under bigger concerns like “How do I write cursive?” and “I don’t want to eat this gross school pizza!” It’s been 11 years since then. I admit that I don’t think of 9/11 often, or at great length. I’ve seen the photos, read first-hand accounts and cartoon recollections, and I know how terrible that day was. But I never truly understood, or perhaps, been able to begin to imagine the horrors of that day until I visited the memorial. Seeing those massive, black holes where the Twin Towers stood put into perspective the scale of the disaster, and the terror and suffering that went on that morning.

So I’m writing this post as my own remembrance. For those who went to work that day, only to find their office in flames. For the people who ran into the building, searching for loved ones. For the rescuers who risked– and lost– their lives for those they had never met. For the survivors who still feel the effects of the attacks today.

I know I wasn’t there. I know I’ll never fully understand what happened that day. I’ll never quite comprehend the fear, the bravery, the tragedy, the despondency. But I can remember.

And I hope that you, dear reader, can take a moment to remember it too.

So I ask: where were you on September 11, 2001? Feel free to let me know in the comments below.

To be honest, I only know how to make frozen waffles.

I recently moved back to school, which is why I’ve been away from the blogosphere for a few days. Class and work and catching up with friends made things immediately busy.

Those are normal, though. This year I have something else to take up time:

This year I’m living in an apartment-style dorm. (Still on campus, mind you. Northeastern kids are required to live on campus for the first two years.) Having a kitchen means I’m not required to get a meal plan. I happily opted out.

And that means for the last week I’ve had to cook for myself. Here’s how it’s been going:

Alright, so maybe I’m exaggerating. I can cook more than just stir-fried vegetables. Why, I can even make

Fine, I admit it. I don’t actually know how to cook. I’m not the perfect domestic woman, it’s true. But I’m trying to cook healthy! And go to the gym! Except, of course, I’m in college…

Whatever. We can’t all be perfect model citizens.

So let the year begin!

The trials and tribulations of piercing one’s ears

I recently got my ears pierced. Or perhaps not so recently– it’s been over a month now. After 18 years of plain, unembellished ears, I finally gave in to the pressure:

So, while in New York City with my sister and host sister, I got my ears pierced. My sister had made up her mind to get a second piercing and, I, the innocent bystander, was dragged along.

Somehow we found a Claire’s in the middle of the city. We entered, where the sassy manager proceeded to stick my ears with a metal pin.

They told me it wouldn’t hurt. Lies! All lies! Okay, so I’m just a huge pansy who has no tolerance for any sort of physical pain. I even close my eyes when I get my shots. Yeahhh. I’m a legal adult.

But that was over a month ago. Since then I’ve been cleaning my ears diligently, since I have a pathological fear of them getting infected. Swollen ears and freely flowing pus is not on my to-do list. I was especially afraid since I had purchased the stainless steel earrings instead of gold or silver ones (gold and silver are less likely to provoke allergic reactions) because I wasn’t willing to drop 60 bucks to get my earlobes poked through.

Well, I had a right to be paranoid. Because a couple days ago, my fears came true.

I called over my mom, who proceeded to freak out.

The back of my right ear, which at this point was swollen and dripping blood, was in fact infected. My mom, seeing her youngest daughter bleeding, went into that mode I can only call mother bear: 
My mother proceeded to whittle down the toothpick and then attempt to stick it through my ear, which only provoked more bleeding. I don’t doubt her trick works– it’s just that my ear was already too swollen to yield an entire toothpick. The bleeding was starting to slow down, though, thanks to copious amounts of ear cleaner and cotton balls. Suddenly my mom remembered something…
And she ran out to retrieve this: 
And that’s how ended up walking around with one metal stud and one gold hoop in my ears. In other words: I am now a pirate. 

What I’ve learned from a year of blogging

I started this site, I think in comics, exactly a year ago today. It started as a place for me to vent my usually incoherent ramblings about my life– but since then, it’s garnered a couple dozen readers, a few thousand views, and even a post that went minor-league viral.

Spectacular, I know.

Regardless, I’ve published 126 posts this year (including this one) which, to me, is a surprisingly large amount. How did I even find the time to write all of those? What did I even write about? Did I gain anything from all of that work? Well, in all of this writing and drawing and blogging, I had to have learned something, right?

Right?

1. How to draw really fast

Between this blog and Minus One, I’ve had to draw a ton in this last year. Specifically, drawing with a tablet directly into Photoshop. Drawing with a tablet feels much different from drawing on paper, mostly because of the disconnect between hand and image. (You draw on one surface, but it shows up on another) As a result, I used to be very very slow and shaky with my tablet. But since all this year I’ve been all

I’ve gained the skill of

Despite all this, though, I haven’t become any better at drawing. Only faster. I’m afraid to say that in this coming year I will still continue to look like a misshapen munchkin.

2. I need to call my parents more

I say this because this happened once:

Yeah. I’m a bad daughter.

3. The internet is a big and scary place

So I started this blog for myself, but at the same time, have tried to promote it. I started a twitter, and a tumblr, and a Facebook page, but to be honest I have no idea what to do with them or what the proper etiquette is or how to make them equally fun and engaging. I am not social media savvy. 

More recently I’ve been posting my blog onto Reddit (while trying to follow reddiquette– I post other links too!) and people there aren’t afraid to be honest. It’s not a bad thing– people often offer tips and advice and corrections which I’ve found very helpful. You just have to have a thick skin sometimes. And I haven’t been trolled yet… knock on wood.

4. Even my parents read my blog. I have to watch what I say.

There are people who blog anonymously, or sometimes not anonymously, and treat their blog as the great confessional. And there’s nothing wrong with that. As for me, though, I have family and friends reading my blog. Therefore I’ve established a two rules for myself:

1. Ask before writing about someone else

My college friends can attest. I’ve often asked them permission to write about something before writing it. It would get awkward if people had to tiptoe around me, afraid that what they said was going to be blogged. The very last thing I want to do is to hurt, embarrass, or offend anybody from a post, even if it makes for a funny story. So it can’t hurt to check. Anyway, when I ask, the answer is usually

2. Don’t say on your blog what you wouldn’t tell someone in real life

I have bad days too. I’ve been tempted to write some emo posts. But I don’t enjoy getting all teary on people in real life, so there’s no reason I should do it here. Nobody wants to hear that.

These are my own rules, though, not anybody else’s. Some bloggers are fueled by writing about controversial topics, or by lambasting others, or by passionately writing about their greatest hopes and fears. I’ve seen these blogs, and tons and tons and tons of them are absolutely brilliant. But that’s not me.

5. Everybody’s life is interesting, if you spin it the right way

I know I’ve been to Japan and Germany, but usually my life is pretty ordinary. I go to college. Study. Hang out with friends. You know, normal stuff.

And there have been many, many times where I’ve been struck by the dreaded

What I’ve tried to do, then, is to find humor in everyday life. Like riding elevators. Or getting a helmet. Or having allergies. Not all of these posts are that hilarious, mind you. But it’s made me look at my life differently– to see how the mundane can, actually, be a funny story.

In other words, maybe my life isn’t so boring after all.

And that’s what I’ve learned after a year of blogging. And now, on to the next year!