Let's get together! Our Dream!

No Angst!Bishounen for me today...;_;

What type of Bishounen are you? Find out at artificial-soul.net by Rin.

So, I'm Iori-kun...as to be expected. ^^ There should be a Bishoujo test to match that...that would be fun to make. ^_^

"A big scary monster is attacking. What do you do?"
a) Start shouting for help, hoping some bishie-guy will save you.
b) Start attacking the monster, knowing that if anything too dangerous starts happening, a bishie-guy will save you...'cause that's the way it happens in shoujo magazines...ahhh, TRUE LOVE...
c) Stand and scream. Or maybe faint. That's what all females are -supposed- to do, after all.
d) Start attacking the monster. It's your duty to do it, and you -will- -not- -give- -up-!
e) Laugh and kick the monster's ass back to the Dungeon Dimensions from whence it came.

"Your breasts:" a) Are too small and scrawny. GROW DAMNIT GROW!
b) If they get any larger, you won't be standing up straight...Barbie's been e-mailing you for tips.
c) You're the biggest-breasted woman in all of Cephiro -- and you LIKE it! OHOHOHOHOHOHO!
d) Are big enough for that REALLY ANNOYING (but occasionally wonderful -- BUT JUST OCCASIONALLY!!) GUY to keep GROPING you. HEEEENTAAAAAAAAAAAAIIII!
e) You don't notice them -- you're too busy cooking and cleaning and being a mother-figure to everyone else to notice such small details about yourself.
f) Get in the way whenever you cross-dress.

hehe...^^;; I actually think that's fairly realistic, scarily enough. ^^ eek, time to get to work -- eight hours in the bookstore! ^____________________^

~Reebie wandered off at 09:22 a.m. on Wednesday, June 26, 2002~

BGM: Shiina Hekiru - Discovery

::is tagged:: It is an interesting topic...^_^

I haven't tried to write anything really long that's original -- the longest I've written was the post-epilogue Digimon Kouyako fic. ^^ When I try writing something, I generally have a lot of the fic planned in my head -- basic outlines of the plot, ideas of what I want to do, individual scenes and comparasions planned out in detail. I write and rewrite those scenes in my head until I like them, and then (and only then) can I write them.

Generally, fics start because of wording stuck in my head. It's really random connections...I look up and see the full moon, and I'm reminded of how one of my best friends, extremely depressed at how her boyfriend had just broken up with her, once cried sonnets at the moon. And I'm reminded of how I've always associated the moon with purity, with clean white light, with crisp nights where someone is alone, and with healing. And that might birth a character, or a line, and then the story is born.

I'm equally comfortable in first or third person, I think...I don't really like omniscient, although I do write fics where I switch third-person limited views. To write in first-person requires having the character down, though... you have to have their voice, including phrases that they'd use...for that reason, I think I'll never write a Hagrid-based fic. Accents bother me to write and they bother me in speech.

It's really hard for me to write without having an opening line. I really do write in a linear fashion -- it's HARD for me to jump two scenes in the future, write that, then jump back to the past...I need an opening line to write a scene. I can't write at all unless I have a good opening line.

(off-topic, sorta, I have no idea how someone like Joseph Heller kept his books straight. Leaving aside how mindfucky his dialogue is and his love of pilpul logic, his books jump back and forth with time -all- -the- -time-. It makes my head hurt just THINKING about it. King David discussing 20th century books...)

I might write scenes out linearly, but I don't think of them linearly. I've had scenes waiting for five or six parts before I got around to writing them...plus, when writing itself, I'll let my thoughts spill out fairly randomly, but I'll often move sentences or even whole passages around to attain the greatest effect.

When I'm stuck for ideas, what I generally do is take a break...go for a bike ride, take a shower, if it's really late -- go to bed. It always takes me somewhere between fifteen minutes to two hours to fall asleep...between tossing and turning, I can plan out scenes really, really well. Sometimes I can talk about characters with other people...most of the time, it'll get me unutterably sidetracked. -_-

A lot of the time, I plan out characters and scenes while talking to myself. Think that means anything? ^_-

::tag!::

~Reebie wandered off at 10:53 p.m. on Tuesday, June 25, 2002~

::squealing::
BGM: Digimon - Reach for You

I love you. And I love her. But the one I love best in the world is...MOTOMIYA DAISUKE-KUN!

::glomps Dai-kun:: You are -so- wonderful. Even if you can't really hit all the notes, you're the best. You're so caring and wonderful and sweet and honestly kind and goggleheadish! I'm gonna fic for you! Hikari-chan, Ken-kun, Mimi-chan, -- whoever you want, Daisuke-kun! You can haqve them all!

I think I might have a new favorite Chosen. Sorry, Kou-kun, Iori-kun -- do I see either of YOU singing a really beautiful new song besides your 02 image songs? Noo~o! And you, Sora-chan! Your new song belongs in a Bakuretsu Hunters CD! If you three would turn out something new and pretty like Dai-kun, you might regain favorite character status!

(::considers:: Although they might not want favorite character status...all it entails is extra-angsty fics...
Daisuke: ;_; But I -like- being genki!
Hush, you.)

Of course, I'll send the Natsu e no Tobira drama tracks with the Sakamoto songs, since it'll help you be motivated in sending me the Digimon Frontier that was promised... In addition to the albums, do you want other songs of hers? I have a healthy amount of her karaoke, and some Napple Tale/Chikyuu Shoujo Arjuna stuff, among others...if I send more Sakamoto then just the albums, will it increase my possibility of getting the new blog layout before July?

Probably not...::immerses herself in new Digi-lyrics::

~Reebie wandered off at 07:26 p.m. on Tuesday, June 25, 2002~

...
I cried but I'm okay now. I cried but I'm okay now. I cried...

I hope I'll be okay soon.

I really hate crying. It makes me feel so weak and cold and small. Every time I cry, I vow that this will be the last time -- no more tears. But every time, I just cry more. Tears don't release any pain for me -- they actually increase the amount of frustration and sadness I feel. Cold water helps reduce my reactions. Writing my emotions out in words helps me release the tension. Tears just make me muddle along.

There is nothing refreshing about a good cry. There is nothing healthy about how I feel congested, how my eyes have gone puffy and my face flushed. There is nothing clearer after I cried in short, gasping sobs until I used up all the breath in my body. There is nothing cleansing about my sheets which are covered in snot and the way that I used my stuffed Pikachu to cover my face.

There is nothing beautiful about crying, whether it's the stifled sobs of someone wound up too tight for too long or the outraged shriek of someone denied their deepest desires. I know both kinds far too intimately. I don't want to cry, I never want to feel like all of my fears and frustrations have been compressed and they can only come out as tears. I don't want that, I don't want anyone to feel like that.

Tears are not pearls and diamonds. They are concentrated pain which has gone on far too long.

And when my mother gets home and I have to explain to her what has been building in me for over four years, when I have to explain how all the belief has been leached out of my body, how when I reach out I know that there is nothing to reach for...I know that I will cry again.

You know, I don't know whether it's better to write out how I feel like this or to keep it inside. At least when I kept everything inside, I could feel something inside of me. Now that I've written so much, I suddenly feel so naked and exposed...and empty. I just want the pain to end...but when you've built your life on a layer of pain, taking it away will knock down your house of cards as surely as a strong wind.

~Reebie wandered off at 08:18 p.m. on Saturday, June 22, 2002~

BGM: Pocket Monsters: Minna de Arukou

Just got back from an eight-hour shift at the bookstore...maaa, I love my job! ^_^

I love it even more now because while flipping through the paperback version of 'Thief of Time', I came across the previews for Terry Pratchett's next -- Night Watch!

It's a Guard book, of course, and it looks REALLY REALLY good. But it's only the first ten pages or so, and a character's already been killed...There's some sort of significance about the 25th of May, and all the old-timers (i.e. not Corporal Ping, whom I have a strange fondness for, or Igor, but rather Sergeant Colon, Nobby, Vimes, Reg Shoe, and Lord Vetinari) are wearing sprigs of lilac in memory of...something not quite revealed, although Colon and Nobby were standing in front of a graveyard.

My favorite part so far (yeah, because so much has been shown) is Detritus's song for the recruits:

"We don't know why we sing this song
we can't made it to prop'ly rhyme!"
"Sound off!"
"One, two!"
"Sound off!"
"Many, lots?"

sooooo cute. XD

~Reebie wandered off at 09:30 p.m. on Wednesday, June 19, 2002~

The Piano - Dream of a Journey

Because I was playing with fire last night. Because I wanted to sort out Hikari's relationship with Daisuke and Takeru. Because I like the taste of lemon tea, which is sour and bitter yet has a comforting smell.

This is...a Hikari vignette/monologue-ish thing. It may or may not be posted on FF.net -- so would that make it a pita exclusive? ::shrug::

Coffeeshop Conversations~The Flavor of Lemon Tea~

Miyako-san once asked me, as we sat in a coffeeshop of the type popular for junior-high and high school students, what I thought of the Chosen boys as 'relationship material'. That's my wording, not hers. Miyako-san, for all of her dear traits, is not very polite in the way that she phrases things.

I swallowed my sip of hot lemon tea, so hot it burned my tongue, laughed a little, and asked her, Miyako-san, what do you mean? And she urged me on -- Hikari-chan, what do -you- think of the Chosen boys, you know, if you were going to date them? 'Cause me and Mimi-chan and Sora-chan talk about guys all the time, but you never join in -- what do you think about them? You can't hold out!

I tried to resist her prying -- unlike Miyako-san, I don't talk about what I feel on end for hours and hours every day. It's nice to know that there are people like Miyako-san in the world -- people like her are sunshine springing from a break in the clouds -- but I could never be like Miyako-san. Talking all the time, being cheerful like that -- it's too much of a burden. I would much rather quietly smile -- it takes much less effort. But Miyako-san, if nothing else, is incurably relentless, and bit by bit pried out of me my feelings about the boys until I would come free.

Oniichan is Oniichan, and I love him, of course. He's my protector, the one who fought off all the monsters under the bed and who walked me to school and protected me no matter what the odds were. Yamato-san is much the same way -- he's not exactly my big brother, but if Oniichan for some reason wasn't there for me, I know that Yamato-san would be there. Jyou-san is the same as well -- if no one else can help me, Jyou-san will be there, standing quietly in the background but still there, just as I know the sun will come up in the morning. Thinking of any one of those as more than siblings or practically-siblings would be against nature.

Koushirou-san is younger than they are, and doesn't have any biological siblings of his own, so he's less likely to accept me as a sister. I'm close enough in age to him that he feels a little uncomofortable around me -- not young enough to be 'a kid', not old enough to be a superior. To be honest, his brilliance scares me a little -- his unerring quest for knowledge. Sometimes, too much is too much. Koushirou-san can't recognize that, though. Neither can Iori-kun, really. Both of them are a little scary, the way they thirst after something they're searching for. Persistence might be a good thing, but it has to be tempered with...with caution.

And poor Ken-san...Ken-san still doesn't have his entire self together, I'm afraid. I think he's a very kind boy, but I don't know yet what kind of person he'll become. He's very open nowadays, at least more open than m-- more open than he used to be. It's a step in the right direction, but it's not enough to be considered fully healed yet.

I fell silent then, and took a sip of my now-lukewarm lemon tea. Miyako-san sat across from me and assimilated my quiet analyses. Sooner or later, she would think to ask --

What about Daisuke and Takeru-kun? What do you think about them?

I should have left right there and then, left Miyako-san to sit there in outraged silence and have her make the eventual complaints to Mimi-san and Sora-san and anyone else with the patience to hear. Mouu, that Hikari-chan~! She's so touchy~! I just asked a simple question and she left! And Mimi-san and Sora-san would calm Miyako-san down, yes, that was rude of Hikari-chan, but perhaps Hikari-chan was just having a bad day, I'm sure she didn't really mean to offend you. And after a day or two or maybe three, or maybe even just a few hours, Miyako-san or I would call, and I'd apologize for walking out, and she'd apologize for asking the question, and we'd go on with our girlish chatter.

But I didn't run away. Instead, I stirred my tea and began to answer.

People compare Daisuke-kun to fire, to a flame that dances on a match and lights a candle. Which is very fine and good, until you consider what happens to that candle. The candle is slowly eaten away. At the end, neither the candle or the fire exist any longer -- the fire existing only to destroy the candle, the candle only being something to support the fire.

If Daisuke-kun and I...if Daisuke-kun and I were ever to -be-, then at first he would be very happy, and I, if not happy, would be content. But slowly, slowly, so poisonously slowly, as the relationship went on, Daisuke-kun would get progressively slower and sadder. He would start to hate me -- but he can never hate his darling Hikari-chan, so he would start to hate himself. By the end of our togetherness, we would be bitter and destroyed.

I am too guarded, too restrained, to match him. Daisuke-kun has no restraints. Daisuke-kun gives of himself to everything that he does, yet still has more strength to survive on. I try to give as much of myself as I can, but I'm not strong enough -- I'm very weak, and frail, and must selfishly guard myself so that I can survive. Daisuke-kun can never understand that.

Daisuke-kun likes me because he thinks there is a Hikari-chan inside of me that is like him -- pure and free and happy. But there is none. Or, if there is such a Hikari-chan, she is hidden so deeply inside my heart that I cannot find her. And I have tried.

To be with Daisuke-kun would wound him, so slowly, so exquisitely, until he was leeched of the things that I like about Daisuke-kun. I like to be with Daisuke-kun because he makes up for what I lack, which is why I cannot be cruel to him. But for the same reason -- I can't encourage him.

Takeru-kun...is another matter altogether.

Takeru-kun is more than the parts of me that I wish I had. Takeru-kun is the viewer by which I find the other parts of me. If I could speak about Takeru-kun the way that you speak about boys, Miyako-san, I suppose that you could say that I love him. But my love for him is not...is not as childish as the crushes of which you speak daily. I love him so much that I would gladly sacrifice my life to save him. And I would be happier than anything else in the world could make me, if I could see Takeru-kun with a girl who loves him and whom he loves and to see them get married and have children and live long, happy lives together. That is the depth of my love for him.

I love Takeru-kun, because when he is with me, I know that I can be strong. Being with him makes me into a better person. But it's precisely because of that...that I could never be with him. Because he loves me.

If Takeru-kun was with me, then he would devote all of his time to making me happy. But what makes me happy is to know that everyone else around me is happy. If people are worrying about me, that hurts me, threatens me. I can't have people worrying about me, it makes me worried as well. Being Takeru-kun's friend -- his best friend -- is painful enough as it is. Since he cares so deeply about me, the real me, and knows me so well...to have him admit to loving me, and to tell him that I love him back, would be beyond my capacity to survive.

With pleasure comes pain. The greater the pleasure, the deeper the pain. Because I love him so much, it would hurt me so deeply to hurt him that I think I would die. So I stay away from discussing things like "boys" and "love" with people like you, Miyako-san, because it hurts just thinking about that possibility.

I drank the last of my cold lemon tea. Miyako-san stayed silent for a few minutes, and then introduced a new topic with the same enthusiasm as she'd introduce any other, and we talked, and we talked. But from that day on, our girlish chatter wasn't quite as carefree as it'd used to be, and we always took care to steer clear from coffeeshop conversations.

~Reebie wandered off at 03:15 p.m. on Monday, June 17, 2002~

Jeff Sampson is God.
BGM: Sentimental Grafitti - Ultra ESP (ye gods, this song is cute.)

But he knew that already, didn't he? ::bemused:: Scholastic probably should have done this while Animorphs was still alive and kicking -- not 13 months after the last book (::sniffle::) -- but I suppose it took that long to do all the legwork. All hail Jeff, niftiest guy of them all!

Kit-san, I nearly saw Scooby-Doo -- twice -- because you mentioned the CoS chamber was in it. The first time, I would've -- I even bought the ticket -- but I figured my mom would get worried since work ended at four, the movie started at 4:50, and I wasn't planning on calling home. The second time, my mom somehow inveigled my dad into seeing it. She wanted me to come, but I was in a semi-pissy mood and told her I'd rather see about studying for my history final (tomorrow), whereupon she said "like you're really studying now", whereupon my dad interjected that I wasn't invited, thank you very much.

Sometimes, I really love my dad. XD

I heard it wasn't very good, anyway. But the CoS trailer will have to be in other movies, right?

Congratulations on the moving of the site. ^_- I can never keep up conversations with muses either...I think if it was something original, an idea -I'd- made up, I would be able to keep it up longer, but I'd just be copying off someone else if I tried to make up a muse now.

And as for characters...the only character I've ever had successful conversations with (that weren't inspired by her or her) was Sakurou-chan, who, while he wasn't -exactly- an original character, was pretty far from any sort of canon. I think I basically created him.

Sakurou: Whaddaya talking about? I created myself!
Rb: ::panicked:: Look, Sakurou-chan! Daidouji's undressing in that convenient closet!
Sakurou: Oooh! ::ducks into closet:: Hey! Daidouji's not in here!
Rb: ::locks him in securely:: *phew!*
Sakurou: ::starts banging on door:: HEY! LEMME OUT! I WANNA SEE DAIDOUJI! AND WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO FINISH MY FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII~C?!

-_-;; Yes. Well. He's my only 'talkative' character. Most characters...when I write them, I don't necessarily 'channel' them or 'talk' to them...I am them. I don't need to think 'how would Koushirou act in this situation?', I just -know- how Koushirou would act in this situation. I'm so close to most characters that I don't hear their voices -- it's more of an ongoing monologue -- sometimes dialogue -- inside of my head. ^^

(Yes, I do talk to myself. I think that tapdancing on the line between sanity and insanity is fine as long as my creative juices keep flowing.)

Sakurou...is different from a lot of character I write, because...well, he's not intended to be serious. To write humor, you put up walls between yourself and the character -- things aren't funny when they happen to you, are they? To be serious, you knock down every single damn wall in the city.

Most of my characters are...angst-ridden, I suppose. I write angstish dramas and romances with occasional fluff and humor added in. To write the dark sides (^^;;) of characters, you really have to be able to understand how the characters tick. And that means breaking down all the walls between the character and yourself, becoming the character in the most literal sense.

When I'm in character mode -- just like when I'm engrossed in a book -- I swear, my brain waves repattern themselves to what the character is feeling. I think and feel differently. I think of myself as a fairly reserved girl -- fairly sarcastic and cynical, but with touches of optimism and cheerfulness. But when I'm a character -- I would jump off a bridge if the character felt like it and not realize that I'm not doing it out of my own free will.

That's why, after writing something -- especially something original, where I use up so much of myself to put reality into my writing -- I need time to recharge before I can respond civily. And if I'm reading a book, I need a buffer zone of time before I start to write or even to respond to someone else -- I'm not myself, don't ask me to do something.

Um. I've wandered, yes. ::steps off the soapbox:: ^^;;;

~Reebie wandered off at 06:10 p.m. on Sunday, June 16, 2002~

BGM: Tange Sakura - doukuritsu, watashi

To answer your wondering about the difference between confidence and arrogance...

The easy answer is, confidence is when you're good, arrogance is when you suck but think you're good. XD

I think it depends on the attitude of the person. Take, hmm, Shigeru from Pocket Monsters -- in the first couple of seasons, he was a smugly arrogant brat, because he was so supremely confident. Later on (forgive me if I'm wrong, it's been too long since I watched the show), he mellows out a little bit, is kinder to Satoshi-tachi, and seems more confident than he did before. To me, at least, he seemed like a better and stronger trainer when he was being kinder. (Of course, that could be because of the underlying message of Pocket Monsters, which is "lovelovelove towards all hideous creatures in the world, and you'll become strong!")

To leap to another shounen anime, what about Daisuke? In the first ten episodes, he was a -brat-. He was always showing up to impress Hikari-chan and to make Takeru look worse, and he was extremely arrogant. Later on, he loosened up a bit, stopped getting in direct competition with Takeru -- well, not as often, anyway -- and by the end of the series, he was much more confident, not only in himself and his abilities but in the group as a whole.

It's easy to assume that arrogance stems from basic insecurity -- but that's not always true. A lot of it has to do with personality...someone who is quieter is often intrepreted as more arrogant, while people who talk a lot are ofter more 'likeable', even when they are extremely arrogant...

That girl you said, whose notes took up more than half of her fic -- she sounds like an imitator. Because -established- people write long notes, it's something that Can Be Done. I know that I wrote a LOT of notes to my earlier fics, and I've been trying to taper off...when I do write long notes, I put them in seperate documents.

What I'm getting REALLY annoyed with are notes where the authors engage in loo~ong conversations with their characters involving couple jokes, sight gags, joking at the author's expense, etc...often, people do it before and after -serious- fics (the only time I'd personally find it appropriate would be parodies), completely ruining the mood. Maybe I'm just getting old, but the blunt-crude humor just isn't working for me anymore...

Yes, I realize, people engage in conversations with characters all the time in their bloggers. I think it's a little too much like talking to myself to do all the time. (I'll probably be sheep-like sooner or later and do it too. Just not now. XD) I can only dance on the line of insanity for so long...XD

speaking of insanity, my Psychology final is at 7:45 AM Thursday -- tomorrow -- morning, and I haven't studied one bit. Um. sleep would be nice, yes it would.

~Reebie wandered off at 12:07 a.m. on Wednesday, June 12, 2002~

Because it's not as if I don't have enough pain in my life...

BGM: Hamasaki Ayumi - Daybreak

Sunday, my parents decided to clean house. Robbed of my refuge of the computer room, I was forced up into the sanctuary of my own bedroom. There, instead of doing my history homework (because that is what first period is there for, after all), I decided, for some obscure reason, to clean my room. Damn stupid parental intention-osmosis.

About fifteen minutes into my cleaning mode, I was trying to clean a patch of carpet when I felt a vicious pain in my right index finger. I looked -- a needle had sliced through my finger, producing mass quantities of blood.

Being the daughter of a nurse, the niece of a doctor, and a burgeoning biology student, I did not panic, but merely walked, not ran, to the bathroom, where I promptly washed my finger, applied a bandaid, and used my finger as an excuse to stop cleaning. Only later did it occur to me that "hmm, that needle didn't look too clean...", but because I had work at 3 and there was no way I was going to call in sick on my second day, I didn't inform my parents about the rusty needle until Monday evening, with my characteristic subtlety:

"Mom, what does it look like when you have tetnus?"

This afternoon, after I got home from school, my dad called and informed me that we would go to the local hospital when he got home to get me the tetnus shot. We left just after five (we would have left a bit sooner, but I had to foil Team Rocket's dastardly deeds -- they've taken over Goldenrod's Radio Tower!), stopped by Wawa's to pick up some food and batteries for my CD player (like my dad wanted to deal with me without some sort of distraction), and got to the hospital triage center, where my dad gleefully informed me that a "triage center" means that's where they seperate the patients into three categories:

a) non-urgent, can be left for a while to amuse themselves
b) those who are ill but have a good chance of survival, and
c) those who are about to die

He scared me by telling me that type b are given first priority, while type c is left to fend for itself, and type a is left waiting until all that is left is skeleton. Well, actually, he didn't tell me about type a -- that's personal experience.

We got there -- allowing for delays -- at the very latest circa 5:30. By 6, I had been fully sorted into my type a, and was answering questions about my poor injury and my medical history. (My dad left as soon as they asked when my last period had been.) After that, I was put into a second waiting area, where the non-urgent were doomed to stay. I put my CD on shuffle/repeat all, and read about twenty chapters of The Curse of Chalion.

I was called into a second room at around 7:45. This was underground, and was apparently the next step to being seen. In my group was a woman who had been savaged by a dog (and who remarked on this repeatedly) and a little boy whose knee was wrapped in a towel. His father was carrying him around, he was adorable. ^_^ Anyway, while being underground, I read, listened to my solitary CD, and tried not to get myself into a panic.

After about twenty minutes of this, I was called into a private room where a nice doctor man called my mother to ensure I needed a tetnus shot, as I was completely useless and couldn't remember the last time I'd been to a doctor. (The sad thing is, my last visit was less than a month ago...) He left me alone after that, promising he'd been back in two minutes.

Four full-length songs went by. I started pacing. I'm -not- a pain wimp, I'm completely nonchalant about blood and other gore, I've been so scratched up as a kid I'm more scar than skin...but I still hate, hate, HATE shots.

After fifteen minutes, a woman doctor came in, calling me "honeybunch." Nothing good could come of this.

After trying to calm me down with other random jocularity (what am I, six?), she inserted the needle. It came out. My arm ACHED. More bad jokes. I rubbed my arm and tried to smile.

By the time the insurance papers were done, it was 8:30.

So I've been typing this, not only with a cut in my right forefinger, but with a severely aching left arm. (And I only use two fingers to type.) My back, shoulders, and neck are one big wad of muscle tension. I have a nifty bracelet on my left wrist which proclaims me to be patient #322160094, which is useful, since they can't seem to spell my last name without using b's and w's.

All this, and I still haven't beaten my Rival yet...

~Reebie wandered off at 09:50 p.m. on Tuesday, June 11, 2002~