Random Doodles

Here, have some random doodles and drawings:

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They’re from various children’s books, stuff I’ve coded, and websites I have right now.  Yes, I realize most of them were done in felt-tip marking pen.  Yes, most of them are crappily xeroxed.  That’s very nice.

One of the typing tendons in my arm is sore.  I should probably go do whatever people do when they’re off the computer… just sit in a corner and stare at the wall, right?

Okay, anyways, bye.

—Chan o(@_@ )o


Here, take an excerpt

Have an excerpt from my NaNoWriMo.  I’ll try to find a swear-free one.

Here’s one:

“I glanced at my bed.  KitCat, my giant, grey tabby cat, was sleeping there.  “Bye,” I whispered before grabbing my skates from where they hung by their laces on a wall.  I flicked off the light before I left.

‘Mom!’ I called down the stairs.  ‘I’m going skating!’

‘Okay, honey!’ she yelled back.  I heard her fingers darting across the keyboard.  Clack, clack, clack.  ‘I need to finish this column by tomorrow.  Don’t die!’

‘Bye!’  I grabbed my backpack from next to the front door and laced up my shoes.  Red converse with mud stains splattered up both sides.  Eh, better than blood stains.  I kicked open the screen with my left foot and stepped out onto the porch.  A timid night breeze swept my hair up.  Ugh.  I wondered how disheveled it would be by the time I got to the rink.”

And… maybe another?

Okay, this one isn’t exactly G-rated, but there aren’t any cusses… and I guess I warned you.

The streets were dimly lit and boisterous that night.  Other teenagers huddled on corners, reeking of weed and tobacco and whatever else they were smoking.  Broken glass filled the gutters.  The stars were dimmed by the orange, artificial light of the streetlamps and businesses lining the streets.

The rink was glowing with early Christmas lights that lit up the old vending machines on either side of the open double doors.  I walked across the gross, mulch-covered landscape to the doors and headed down the dingy, multi-purpose carpeted hallway to the skate rental and payment counter.  Some college kid sat behind an old-fashioned cash register, casually chewing a wad of bubblegum and looking bored.  Bored in a cool way.  Almost a hot way.  Ew.”

‘Hey,’ he said when I set my skates on the counter.

I didn’t respond, but pulled a ten dollar bill out of my sweatshirt pocket.  He took it and smiled.  I shivered when he handed me the change and a wristband, then quickly grabbed my skates and went through the doorless entryway that led to the actual rink.

The actual rink wasn’t very big.  There were a couple rows of benches in front of it, a bathroom to the left, and some strobe-light thingies.

I pulled on my skates and tightened the laces.  Why did I ever come here on Fridays?  The place was packed.  Stoned high schoolers on rollerblades aren’t the best company.

Once my skates were on, I managed to get across the industrial carpeting without having my own wheels lock.  I made it to the shiny, smooth wood of the rink.  Lights from the strobe-light thingies glided across the shiny surface.  I gently propelled my feet into motion.

There is no feeling quite the same as roller skating on a smooth surface.  Seriously.  It’s like flying.  If you skate for too long, or too often, you realize how rudimentary and inconvenient walking is.  You bounce and trip and have to steady yourself.  You’re much too close to the ground.  You can’t go very long distances without starting to pant and sweat.  Not with skating.

When you skate, you’re gliding and flying and you can feel the wind whistling in your ears.  Unless you suck at skating.  Then it’s even worse than walking.

I maneuvered my way through several idiotic inline skaters, who kept bumping into each other and falling over.  They smelled horrible.

Just when I was almost to the open track again, a huge, hulking idiot on rollerblades came out of nowhere and smashed into me.  I fell over.  I tried to land on my knees and elbows, but there were people behind me and I ended up landing on my butt.  Well, on one of my skates.  Okay, actually, my butt kind of landed on top of the skate.

If you’ve never had your foot (with a skate on) smack into the ground, then have your butt fall on top of it… it’s not exactly pleasant.  The impact is really shocking, and, oh, God, it hurts really bad.”

And maybe one more?

I sat in front of the TV for half an hour.  I clicked a random button on the remote.

Click. “Luscious, golden locks can only be achieved with–”

Click.  “And he’s right on number seven’s tail as–”

Click.  “Lo que quiero decir es… estoy embarasado… y  no es–”

Click.  “And, Debby, do you have any idea how much your grandfather payed for this painting?”

Click. “Celebrity Dating World will be right back after these messages–”

I turned off the TV right as Jen appeared on the topmost step.  Her hair, short and blond, was messy, and her purple t-shirt was crumpled.  She had a backpack on.  Good.  She would be staying for a while.

‘Hi,’ she said quietly, flopping down onto the couch next to me.  She let her backpack slide off her slim shoulders and drop onto the floor.

‘Hey,’ I said, brushing the hair out of my eyes.  “Do you want some food?”

She shook her head.  ‘I’m not hungry.’

My mom came in carrying two plates of half-revived pizza.  ‘Here you go,’ she said, handing Jen a plate and a glass of milk.  Jen’s hands were shaking so hard the plate rattled.  She quickly set them down on the coffee table.”

That’s all!  Thanks for reading! 🙂

—Changuita o(•—• )o

My Cats

Yesterday’s post was mostly words.  Here, have some… not words!  Okay, not as many words, then.

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This is my cat Oliver, or Olive.  She was a feral kitten, but she’s okay.  She’s super nice and quiet until you’re sitting down, and then she’s the most annoying thing in the world.  Especially if you’re on the computer.  She’ll try to talk to you, climb up on your desk, bite you hands, play with the mouse and screen, and walk across the keyboard.

Her favorite activities include following you when you go for walks, sleeping in your bed and then getting up in the middle of the night to walk across your face, and playing with toys (she brings them back after catching them, it’s adorable!!!!!!)

Her vocabulary includes “Mrrrp”, which means “pet me more your computer doesn’t matter”, “brrrrrrrt”, which means “I love you, hi”, “mmmmmmmmmrr”, which means “ah you’re scary I must hide”, and “me-row-row-rrrrrow” which is her hunting cry (meaning she’ll do it when she has a toy in her mouth.

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This is Mikerina Snacky Cat, or Snacky.  Or Snoochy.  Or Snackaroon.  Or Snickers.  Or Snackerdoodle.  Etc.  Friends of our family were fostering her litter when we adopted her.  She was a little bigger, a little shinier, a little darker, a little older, and a lot smarter than the rest of her “brothers and sisters”.  She figured out how to get up on tables and chairs and counter A LOT FASTER and has a reason to be called “Little Badness”.  My family theorizes that the shelter workers had her separate from the litter she came with, but then were all like, “This is a black cat.  Those are black cats.  Let’s just put this one with them.”

Her favorite activities are being a jerk (we have to put her in the bathroom while she eats because she steals other cat’s food), and hunting, catching, and eating bugs, mice, rats, birds, spiders, gophers, and basically everything.  I wouldn’t be surprised if she tried to take down a deer.  She also loves it if you hold a string near her so she can attack it.  And, when she settles down, she would love it if you hugged her.  She purrs really easily.

Her main vocalization is a squeaky “moo”.  She uses different inflection and distance between “moo”s depending on what she’s talking about.  When she got stuck in the fridge as a kitten, she went “moo             moo          moo”, but when she wants food, she goes “moo moo moo moo moo”.  If you find lick marks on the butter, pineapple, mushrooms, or pan dulce (she has eaten all of this things off of tables and counters) and you’re trying to get a confession out of her, she’ll usually just say, “Moo!” before running away.  Or blame Zuzu.  Except you haven’t met Zuzu yet.  She’s next.


Here’s Zu–her full name is Zucchini Blossom, but we call her Zuzu, Zu, or Zubu.  She’s an extremely picky eater.  She’s kind of anorexic and won’t eat for days at a time.  She has such a low metabolism that she stays big, though.  She’s nice, but very confused.

Okay, I did favorite activities for the other two cats.  Zu likes sleeping, eating, and getting high on catnip.  Um… yeah.  That’s about it.

If she needs to talk, Zu usually just yowls.


Human: “Okay, Zubu, I think it’s dinner time.”


Human: “Hungry, huh?”


Human: “Okay, here’s your food!”

Zu: *sniffs it, looking confused*  *looks up, ears back like an owl*  “AAAAAAAYOOOOMOWWWEEEEEMOEAAAAAYAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEEEE!!”

Human: “Um…”

Cool.  Cool cool cool.  I’m going to write more here soon.  Yep.  Okay.  Good.  Yep.  Good.  Okay.

In case you were wondering, all my sock monkeys are doing good.  Mivsie recently spent an extended period of time at her friend Kat’s house.  And I’ve been making more plushies and stuff.  More later.

—Changuita o(-_- )o

PS:  By the way, the little guy next to my signature is supposed to represent a monkey.  Yes, okay, I’ll go now.

NaNoWriMo again? Already?

I’m doing NaNoWriMo again!  Yep.  In case you didn’t realize, last year I wrote The Vision Stones for NaNoWriMo.

So what’s my novel this year, you ask?

Um… It’s really weird.  It’s about this kid and then his trans friend is staying with him.  Then they move… blah blah blah.

How far has my writing progressed over the course of this year, you ask?  Damnit, this means a lot of copying and pasting.  Okay, here goes:

Excerpt from The Vision Stones:

“When Ristle woke up, he didn’t want to be awake.  He didn’t know what he wanted.  All this sorrow made him feel bored.  He was numb, and he wanted to feel again.  But it wasn’t boredom.  Because when you are bored, you can sometimes distract yourself.  This kind of sorrow, you can’t distract yourself at all.  But you can try.”

Excerpt from Setting Sunrise, written later that year:

“I think the strangest thing about Kloeva was the fact that she told me and reminded me constantly that she was not my mother.  My mother, she said, was wandering out there, somewhere in the universe.  She told me never to call her mother, or mum, or mummy, momma, or mom.  I was to call her ‘Fox’.

I’m not sure why she insisted on being called Fox.  Perhaps it was her silvery hair, so much the same color as a small fox’s coat in the spring, or maybe it was because she could sit still for so long, anticipating, the way a fox watches a seal hole out on the ice.  [Note–I know foxes don’t watch seals] We didn’t live on the ice, so we didn’t come across seal holes, but Fox anticipated the chicken being done, so that I could set the table and she could test out a piece of golden-brown skin.

My mother, she told me, was a beautiful woman, who shone like the rising sun.  Or the setting sun.  It depended on what sort of a mood Fox happened to be in.  Mostly, she was quiet, wise, strict, and still, like a fox stalking a grouse in the long grass just outside of our house, in our wooded backyard.  Fox called it our own, private ‘Sylvareglum’, which she said was a forest kingdom.”

Excerpt from The Boy and the Phooka, also from that year (or possibly this year, I have no idea):

Zeb picked out a piece of broccoli and dipped it into the ranch.  The fuzzy-ish texture and nearly-spicy taste made Zeb smile.  Meanwhile, Leigh tore open a peanut-butter granola bar and poured herself a glass of cola.

“These are good,” Leigh said, pointing at the bars.

“I don’t like peanut-butter,” Zeb answered, shrugging his shoulders.

“Hmm.”  Leigh took another bite of her granola bar.  

Zeb reached over to pick up the lemonade, but knocked over a bottle of water, instead.  Leigh put down her cup in the blink of an eye, and, in one fluid motion, bent her knees and caught the bottle, grabbing it in her lap.  She set it back on the table and looked at Zeb as though to say, “What?”


“Eh, I guess I just have quick reflexes.”

“Guess?  You do!”

“Thanks.”  She smiled.  Zeb grinned.  He had made her smile…  “

Excerpt from I Speak For Myself, this year:

The baskets were large and simply woven from tree fiber soaked in water.  I marvelled at their designs until the merchant, a young woman with dark eyes and a shaved head, showing that she was an unmarried virgin of age, asked my mother if I would like one.

“We do not have enough goods to trade for something as beautiful as this,” said my mother.

“I have something,” I said, and reached into the pocket of my denim jumper.  I pulled out a shiny nut and a piece of quartz with a hole through the middle.  The latter was a bead that had fallen off of my necklace the day before.  

The woman opened her hand and accepted my humble pay.  “I am sorry,” she told me, “but I do not think this is enough for one of these.”  She held up a large basket.  “But I do have something for you.”  She reached under the booth, where she probably kept a chest of backup goods, and pulled out a tiny, magenta and blue coinpurse.  It was made with human embroidery thread, a complex pattern without the holes and bumps of one of her baskets.  “Take this one, instead,” she said, “I wove it this morning.”  She dropped it into my waiting hands.

The purse had a tiny drawstring on it.  “It is beautiful,” I said to her.  “Thank you.”  

My mother smiled, but as soon as we were out of earshot of the merchant, she leaned down to me and whispered, “That present was a mistake.  That woman used something human to make it.  Throw it away.”

I looked at it, trying to find good words.  My mother was a proud woman, too proud to not be ignorant at times.  “Mother,” I said, “You never threw me away, did you?”  She looked at me, silently, and I could tell that she was praying.”

Excerpt from Rani Reads the Entire Library, also this year:

In the morning, Rani returned to the library and found Florence sitting behind her desk.

“Good morning,” she said.

“Hello,” said Rani.  He gave her back Encyclopedia.  “What book do I read next?” he asked.

She opened a drawer in her desk and took out a little piece of paper that said “Rani’s Books” on it.  “It’s called Plants, and it’s on shelf one,” she said.”

And, most recently written, an excerpt from this year’s NaNoWriMo book:


“I removed my black slacks and white button-up shirt and replaced them with something much more… flamboyant.  A rainbow tutu, turquoise leggings, a bright green t-shirt, neon pink socks, and rainbow legwarmers.  Right.  I hope I didn’t blind anyone.  I leaned over my dresser and studied my reflection.  I rubbed glitter over my eyes and sprinkled it in my hair.  My eyelids quickly became clouded with green eyeshadow and I applied ochre lipstick to my upper lip and white to the bottom one.  Then I looked in the mirror again.  What the hell was I thinking?  I looked like a fucking idiot.  Oh well, too late now.”

Okay!  Thanks for listening!  I actually planned on only including the first and last excerpts, but yeah… whatever.

See you soon,

Changuita! o(•-• *)o

PS–Check this link out!


Okay, I started obsessing over one of my websites again, while the rest remain dead.

So here it is: https://magicallittleworld.wordpress.com

It’s a resource page fro preschoolers and their teachers/parents/guardians/etc.




Okay, this time I used a store-bought ice-cream sandwich and stuffed some strawberries in the cracks(after cutting it).  I also decorated it with strawberries and mint… but mostly some company made this one.

Tofu Burger with Cat Ears



I made this burger with two little tofu squares, some peppers, tomatoes, ketchup (though I think I should have used teriyaki), and a bagel as a bun!!!

Also, there will definitely be better updates soon.  By the way, check out these games: https://scratch.mit.edu/users/AKappa/