countertransference is not illegal, i tell myself

Oh boy how time flies when life is happening huh journal hahaahahaa.

Sorry for neglecting you like I always do.

I started working full time roughly a month after my last post and I’ve been too busy evolving into an adult for the past 1.5 years to do much else. But for 2018 I made a list of resolutions and it includes writing entries more often than once a year. So here I am, two months late, but still!

I’ve been working in a mental health crisis facility, which isn’t as intense as you might think but it’s definitely interesting stuff. You meet some real characters. Lots of drug abuse. Everyone’s homeless. No one showers. Personality disorders suck for all involved. Haven’t given myself HIV by poking used needles yet but I’ve touched more syringes and crack pipes than I need to in a lifetime.

Without tying up this post with too much detail, I love my job and the personal development it’s forced me to undergo. Seriously, I feel like I’ve changed and matured so much since starting this job. But I’ll go into that another time — just wanted to check in today and announce that I’m still existing somewhere outside the internet.

I’ll close this entry with this: I may or may not have developed a troublesome crush on one of our frequent flyers and I may or may not have starting writing fic inspired by our interactions. Here, have some samples that are totally entirely definitely fictional scenes.  Continue reading

The Neglected

I’ll write a more traditional journal post about my current life happenings later because I’m swamped with work at the moment. When I’m writing papers all the time for my classes, the last thing I want to do is type moar things, even things irrelevant to academics.

First, a filler post!

I found an archive of many of the small things I’d written in the past, including my finished short stories and lots of bad poetry written for high school English classes.

And then there are the Neglected, the drafts I had started and then left to collect spiderwebs in the deep archives of my flash drive. I suck at finishing anything. I don’t know if I’ll ever finish them, so I might as well publish them here, along with the writing prompt that went along with them if they had one. Even if these weren’t dated, the writing styles make it pretty clear to me which ones are old old old and which ones I wrote closer to the start of my college years.

1. No prompt listed

“Kent.” Madeline dares not speak above a whisper. “Kent, we shouldn’t be in here.”

Kent shows no sign that he heard his sister’s warning. He takes a giant leap off the last five stone steps, landing noisily on the ground. Madeline’s slippers muffle her footsteps down.

“We’ll get in trouble if the guards catch us,” she tries again.

A pause. Then: “Don’t get us caught.”

His easy reply floats to her from somewhere ahead. Madeline sees the top of his head peeking out behind a bush, and she hurriedly pursues him.

“Should be around here,” she hears him mutter. She catches up to him in time to see him impatiently brush aside some of the palace’s sunflowers blocking his way — and rip the head off one of them.

Madeline’s hand flies to her mouth in horror. “Kent!”

Kent stares at the fallen flower for a second, and then not only treads on it but grinds his heel into the soil, inducing a dismayed gasp from the young princess.

“Just help me look for that vial.”


“Kent, what are you doing? We have the water, so can we go now? Please?” Her fingers wrap around his wrist and pull him in the direction of the exit. Almost absentmindedly, he pries her off so he can slide the fingers of both hands over the vial. He stares at the transparent liquid with glazed eyes.

“The last of the water from the Fountain of Vitality before it was destroyed in the war,” he murmured, more to himself than to his sister. “And it’s still here, more than sixteen years later.” He runs his index finger down the side of the cool glass vial. “Just enough left to heal the sick…”

Madeline tries to get him to move. “I know that. That’s why we’re here — to help Mama get better. And that’s why we really need to get back to the palace before she gets worse.”

“Enough left to heal the sick,” Kent only repeats. As she watches him, his faraway eyes suddenly regain focus. He looks at the corked vial in his hands in a different way now. He pulls on the cork. Madeline hears the small pop it makes when he tugs it free.

“There’s just enough left to heal someone who’s ill. Or make the healthy invincible,” he says. The resolve is evident in his hazel eyes. And now, Madeline sees his intention as well.

“Kent, please, it’s Mama’s last chance. Without this, she’s sure to…” The words die on her lips, because she knows they are trying to reach ears that can’t hear, a mind already made up.

His lips slowly part as he raises his right hand. Madeline can only watch, wide-eyed, as he tilts the remaining contents of the vial into his mouth. Continue reading

sunday, a short short story

From my summer writing class, a short short story is not simply just a short story that’s shortened. It’s supposed to tell so much and yet not enough, end before it begins. It’s just supposed to work. In the world of fics, it’s like a drabble. My professor thought I did really well for a first attempt and that’s why I have the balls to post it here.

I figured that the lack of length will allow me to more easily write as a boy. My inspiration is not obvious at all. :P Continue reading

Continuous Flow

There is a reason why I try my best to avoid anime.

I went from episode 14 of Cardcaptor Sakura to episode 24 in one day. That may not sound like much given how long a day is, but I watched them back to back while seated on a stability ball that’s too small for both my height and the height of the table.

Yep. Those neck cramps were fun.

I love how I chose to rewatch an anime that dates back to the 1990s instead of trying out a more recent one; the Cardcaptor Sakura manga is the same age as my brother! I remember eight-year-old me trying to catch the dubbed version on TV every time it aired. Years later during the summer, there sat my fourteen-year-old nostalgia-bitten self, browsing Youtube for the same series and coming across the subbed version instead — and then my horror/disgust at just how mangled the English dubbed version really was: whole episodes cut, names changed (the main character’s name was kept the same but horribly mispronounced), and all traces of romance removed or disguised, heterosexual or otherwise.

And so, my love for Cardcaptor Sakura began, and my utter loathing toward Cardcaptors continues to fester today.

Right now I’m up to episode 50. Ideally I’d like to finish all 71 eps and the second movie before I leave for school on Monday, but it seems impossible right now. :/ I’ll just try to squeeze in episodes whenever I can? Today was busy and when I wake up I’ll be gone all day at a Rhode Island beach… and that’s it! No time left!

But anyway, it’s so cool just how much my knowledge of Japan has expanded since I watched the anime four years ago. I can understand the little cultural references that breezed past me before. For example, I now see that it’s weird for Sakura’s dad to call her “Sakura-san” when they’re so close. Plus, now that I’m much more familiarized with the Japanese language, it’s funny listening to Kero and his Osaka-ben. He talks kind of like Ryo, except with a hiiiiigh pitched voice! :D

Yes. Speaking of high pitched voices. I gave Yoru no Uta a try! Tomoyo is one of my favorite characters (hard to pick one when I love them all, lol) and her voice is so pretty — so high! Instead of using my natural voice, I tried my best to imitate hers. I was in head voice the entire time while she could sing normally. >___> I ended up with this:

I think I like this better than my real voice asdfghjkl.

Continue reading

Guide: How to Use Correct Punctuation in Dialogue

(Edited on 8/14/16 to add more tips and to reflect the maturity I’ve developed since creating this guide as a little teenager)

Hello! This is primarily a guide on the proper use of punctuation in dialogue, though I have also included some tips on writing dialogue itself. Hopefully my tips here will help clear up any uncertainties you have about punctuating the many forms that dialogue comes in. So, if you’re writing a conversation and you find yourself wondering where that comma should go, whether you should capitalize that pronoun immediately following a line of dialogue, etc., then you’ve come to the right place.

This is written not only for those who have just begun exploring the wonderful world of writing, but also for those who have been writing for as long as they can remember and still need some help with dialogue. I have seen amateur writers write beautifully, with the only flaw (as far as I could see) being their punctuation in dialogue. I have seen errors in published works as well, that have perhaps slipped past the careful eyes of editors, so this is an issue that plagues even the most professional of authors.

While I am not the most amazing writer in the world, I care unusually deeply about punctuation. You could say it’s a passion of mine. The information from this guide comes from a combination of what I’ve retained from elementary school English textbooks, my intense study of the use of punctuation in published fiction, and the internet, for whenever I wanted extra clarity.

Two things before you proceed: 1.) I am American, so this is the American way of doing things. I don’t know if the rest of the world follows the same rules. For example, I have seen British authors using what resembles apostrophes instead of quotation marks to section off dialogue. And 2.) I only use Microsoft Office Word. I haven’t a clue if my punctuation tricks will work on other word processors.

Let’s begin, shall we? I’ve included examples of what not to do along with what you should do, in order to provide some contrast. Everything in red are things you SHOULD NOT do; everything in green is correct. In other words, red = stop, green = go.

**Table of Contents**

1. The period/full stop
2. Question marks and exclamation points
3. Dashes
4. Ellipses
5. Quotes within a quote
6. Varying your dialogue

(Use Ctrl+F to search. Or you can just scroll down. It’s not a very long guide.)

Continue reading

Still can’t sing D:

But I tried anyway. And I didn’t make the pitch higher this time~

Yep, still awful. ^^ I don’t understand how Corr can sing so high while still sounding clearer than a blue sky. My voice was never the same after I recovered from laryngitis.

Like I said before, “Yoru wa Hoshi wo Nagameteokure” has become one of my favorite Tegomass songs. I’d love it even more if there was a PV for it — I WANNA SEE TEGOMASS TEARS — but you can’t always get what you want. ;__;

I can’t sing the verses at all. I sound bad enough singing the chorus, so the verses are even worse. Too low for my range. I love singing. But I don’t like it enough to practice every day so that I can improve. Maybe in the summer. For now, though, it looks like I’m stuck with this voice, however scratchy, grating, drawling, and just altogether weird it may be.

Dangit, Tegomass, how did you two get so good? >______<

. . .

Four-hour AP Biology exam in two days. Not bothering to hope for a 5 or 4; I’ll just aim for a passing score of 3.

Ehh~ too low in spirits to write anything else about my life.

Instead, I’ll just post another snippet of the short story I mentioned in this entry. After pondering for a long time, I decided to title it “Let Me Hear Your Voice.” Unfortunately, I like that title too much to change it when I found out several weeks later that I had unconsciously written the translation of “Koe wo Kikasete,” a Big Bang song. “Koe wo Kikasete” is my favorite song from Big Bang, even though I’m neither a fan of them nor the quality of their voices. Compared to the spazztastic imperfections of Johnny’s, they’re too perfect, almost in a robotic way. D:

The doctors deny him entrance to the emergency room when he arrives at the hospital. He doesn’t know how long the ambulance has been sitting there in front of the building; he just knows it got there first, taunting him with its flashy sirens, and he slams his fist into the brick wall of an apartment building in frustration.

Stevie does end up going to school after all—two thousand twenty-five seconds after the late bell, but better than not coming at all. His parents hadn’t sent him to America just to have him skip classes. As he scribbles down his name for a pass from the office, the secretary there shoots him dirty looks, seems to think he’s one of those hooligans who show up half the time and believe that homework time is synonymous to getting high and utterly wasted. He only says flatly that there has been an accident, and doesn’t elaborate when she calls after his retreating form.

He makes it in time for Honors Calculus, his best class even though he hates it. The elderly teacher accepts his pass with a nod and nothing else. She knows he’s a good kid and this is his first tardy of the year, so she’s willing to let it slide. He easily maneuvers his way over the backpacks blocking the rows and takes his seat.

A wave of whispers sweeps through the room. Things had certainly looked suspicious when the happy, bubbly, everybody’s-friend Sydney Moray missed school for the first time, and so did that weird New Zealander transfer, Stevie Ashford, who, despite being labeled guaranteed valedictorian and playing outside midfielder on the soccer team, stays so low-profile that he might as well not exist at all. They should have known she won’t skip school with him. After all, Sydney likes fun, and Stevie is galaxies away from that.

He glances at the board, tries his best to focus, but every time he sees the teacher draw with her unsteady hand the top part of the pi symbol, he can’t help but think back to the morning, inside the ambulance, to the weakly pulsing green line beeping within the box that monitored the beating of Sydney’s heart.

That’s all it takes for Stevie to push all thoughts of calculus out of his head.

He then looks sideways at the vacant desk beside his, the one assigned to Sydney, and he wonders how long it will be before that seat is filled again.

It’s kind of fun to write emo. :Dv

Now, if only I could write better.

Until next time,

~ Mimi ;________;

P.S. Proof that AP Bio is ruling my life: While eating some kind of green plant for dinner, one thought that crossed my mind was, “It’s gonna be impossible for me to digest the cellulose in this.”

Proof that I need more sleep than I am currently getting: In this Tegomass clip I watched a moment ago, Tegoshi was the first one to speak and I got momentarily confused when I couldn’t understand the words coming out of his mouth.

This is my life.


The Most Exaggerated Storm Ever

Ehh~ no one woke me up last night~~ D: I fell asleep on the couch while watching TV around 10 or so. I still had homework to do, I didn’t brush my teeth yet, and I wasn’t wearing my retainer — but no one woke me up. I was supposed to have a half day of school the next day, so did no one care if I overslept (which I have a huge tendency to do)?

When I finally woke up, I think it was because I heard my cell phone vibrating in my backpack. (I would love it if someone could tell me why THAT woke me up when most of the time the normal, shrill, obnoxious alarm is unable to rouse me.) It was 4 in the morning when I woke up, and a whole bunch of lights and my laptop were still on. Well, that explains why our electric bill is so high, sorry Old Man. ^^

I was preparing myself for school when I noticed my school name on the internet list of school closings. And I started dancing around because school was not shortened but CANCELED. :DDD All because of that scary snowstorm people were all hyped up over.

It was supposed to cause mass chaos on the roads and nightmarish accumulations. It was supposed to start around 9 in the morning and continue steadily until early Thursday. It was supposed to require police officers patrolling major intersections. It was supposed to be bad.

It was NOT supposed to be what actually happened.

True, it started snowing around 9. But it stopped five minutes later. And started again. And stopped. Stopped for a long time. No accumulation so far. No snow at 2:30, either, which is when my school normally lets out, so that meant we had a day off for absolutely nothing. :Pv

Eventually it did snow harder, but it’s not anymore. 1 AM right now. There’s less than two inches of snow on the ground, not even enough for the snowblower.

It might have been bad for the folks down south, but up here in the north, in the city: pfffffffft. Like the title of this entry says, the most exaggerated storm ever~

I skipped over a NEWS picture in my last entry. But not today, because I’m in a good mood. :)

Why does this picture make me think of a boyfriend entertaining his girl? Must be because of Shige’s manly pose and Tegoshi’s laughing face.

I took a poll once about my OTP, and I picked TegoShige. Hey, opposites attract, right? I couldn’t decide between Tegomass and TegoShige, so I just went with the unusual one. I think the most-picked OTP was RyoPi, and TegoShige was second-to-last. -_-;; I have always been an unusual child.

Until next time,

~ Mimi ^–^

P.S. I’ve been working hard on this short story. Continue reading


is the number of mosquito bites I got today from sitting in the grass near the beach for an hour and a half, editing other people’s works.

Yes. TWENTY-FREAKING-ONE mosquito bites.

Originally I thought there were six bites, which is bad enough. Then I looked in the mirror and found fifteen. Finally, after dinner, I took one final check and the total rose to twenty-one.

Do you know how impossible it is to live my day without at least one of these damnable buggers crying out for attention? I only caught one mosquito sucking on me, on my left forearm. When I tried to blow it off, it stayed, and I immediately thought, “Oh crap,” and smacked it off.

I was tempted to flex my arm to force the little devil to suck in more than it needed to. And then it would explode and die. Mwahahaha.

I do wonder why God ever created mosquitoes in the first place. To annoy humankind? Really, do they have any positive purpose at all, besides feeding dragonflies?


…You know, reading what I wrote above, it sounds like I have major psychological issues. I just hate mosquitoes so so so so so so so so so much. My entire left arm is tingling right now.

Aside from the itchy torture, I walked two miles for lunch. In flip flops. And the supposedly legendary food wasn’t even that great. There’s a terrible blister on my right foot.

It was also very hot out today.

I discovered that Billy is very much in love with Emma Watson, which I thought was cute. He’s a total Harry Potter fan (which makes me like him more because I myself am a HP nerd), even taking the time to see the movie when it was released at midnight. He kept talking about her, how she’s pretty, she’s very intelligent, she’s an actress, she’s got the whole British thing going on, etc.

He even calculated that if he decides to attend Brown University, the place Emma will attend, he’ll be a freshman when she’s a senior. It kind of bothers me that he knows she’ll go there because that’s how dedicated he is. I wouldn’t be surprised if they end up getting together in the future, since Billy is a guy whose personality stands out from the rest AND has movie-star good looks.

Anyway, I’m rather anxious for Monday. We edited two of our writing class’s works today at the beach. I’d been anticipating the editing part because I still wasn’t sure how my writing would compare with others.

Would I outshine the rest and be the envy of everyone there?

Would I be horribly amateurish and they’ll have to force their grins and feed me false compliments?

Or would I be on the exact same level as everyone and not have to worry about anything?

I know for sure that my dialogue and technical aspects (grammar, punctuation, spelling) are top-notch because those are my specialties. Okay, maybe not so much the grammar. However, my writing, like my journal entries, is jumbled and rambly and confusing. My teenage characters are unrealistic because I’m one of the worst examples of a teenager you can find and therefore do not know how they behave. I may seem like one at times, but that’s because I refuse to allow Nana-me to spoil my lighthearted entries with my angst. The sarcasm is all her, though.

I also needed to type twenty pages in five days, and it absolutely astounds me that I finished in time. That doesn’t mean it isn’t rushed, though, because it is.

Er, right. Back to why I’m anxious.

Since mine is the second-longest piece in the group, the teacher distributed my paper to everyone to SCRUTINIZE, CRITICIZE, and TEAR APART over the weekend. After reading over the opening paragraph of my short story, I think I may die. Here, take a gander at this monstrosity:

Alan’s wilted body was draped over the bleachers. When Delia approached, breathing heavily and dripping sweat, he lifted his head to show her possibly the most dismal face she had ever seen. Alarmed, she didn’t notice when her basketball slipped through her hands as she hurried to his side.  A list of possible maladies streamed through her conscience. She was prepared to kneel and fawn over him until he would confide in her his problems, like she’d done so many instances before.

Why oh why didn’t I write that more carefully? It sounds AWFUL now that I’ve read it again. First impressions are everything, and I think I blew it. Compared to the pure epicness of Alissa’s entire story or to Joan’s perfectly written beginning, mine is going to be crap. The entire concept of it seems appallingly bad-teenage-literature-esque, like Twilight.

God, I’m so ITCHY.

Until next time,

~ Nana D:<


Ahh, sweet freedom. School is over and done, and I’m free until September. I think my school got out around the same time California kids got out, which rarely happens because students in Cali start school early (late August, I think) and end school early (in late May/early June). Too bad for The Pest, though. He goes to public school and they all get out late late late in June. Heh, sucks to be him.

I really should be deciding on what I’m going to do in the future. The SATs are next year, after all. My parents are urging me to be a pharmacist, which I absolutely refuse. God, can you imagine someone as artistic and spacey as me being a pharmacist? I’d rather study to be a doctor than go into pharmacy. Blech. Maybe I will aim for the medical field. I’m not cut out to be a psychologist, like I planned. Too chatty. So, doctor it is, then! I will probably drop out halfway through, though. I’m too much of a slacker.

You know, something very interesting happened two days ago. After I came home from school, I dropped dead on the sofa and slipped into a coma-like sleep. The phone rang, and The Pest picked up. He woke me up and handed the phone over to me. Still in dreamland, I answered with an extremely light, airy, and sleepy “Hello…?” because I figured it was Corr who called. She’s the only one who ever calls me, anyway.

Well, it wasn’t. It was the vice-principal of my school.

I jolted up as though lightning struck me, thinking, “Oh crap, I’m in trouble.” But the VP must have read my mind and told me I wasn’t in any trouble. She informed me that my beloved English teacher submitted my name to the teacher at this summer writing workshop in the same city my school is in. She asked me if I wanted to attend the program and that I should give her my answer tomorrow, on the last day of school.

Turns out that the program is six hours a day, three days a week for four weeks. It’s a huge commitment. AND it’s mega-expensive. So even if I decided to tell her yes, the Old Man will never pay for it because we’re short on money right now.

But, surprisingly he reluctantly told me during dinnertime I can accept the offer. Hehe, gotta love my God-given gift of persuasion. :Db

So I did. I accepted it. And you know what?

The vice principal emailed me with more details about the program. I still have to fill out the application, but I don’t have to write the required essay and I DON’T have to pay the tuition. Someone is sponsoring me and will pay for me. So that means I’m free to go!

Hopefully, participating in this writing workshop will help me write again. It would be a shame to not be able to write over the summer. Speaking of writing, I’m trying really hard to finish the ninth chapter of Forget-Me-Not, which I’ve pretty much ignored for nine months. My readers probably forgot all about me already. =(

But I’m getting rather serious about writing lately. I’ve even started a freewriting journal, which I have titled SPIRIT. Every day, I freewrite about anything for at least ten minutes. They aren’t supposed to be journal entries. If they ever do start out like journal entries, I make sure to steer in another direction and talk about something else.

Resolutions Update:

#25. Acquire more than four hours of sleep a night – Failed! (For the past three weeks, I have gotten a mere two hours of sleep, sometimes less. I despise school.)

#52. Sing solo in front of people – Accomplished!

Until next time,

~ Mimi ^^

An Essay About Apples

I found these amazing little candies today in this Asian supermarket I’ve never been to before. They’re tiny and cube-shaped and colorful and fruity and come in eight intense flavors and are a gift from God. (Yes, it’s painfully obvious I’ve attended Catholic schools all my life.) Boy, was I ever surprised to find a packet of Cubyrop there, just waiting for me to take home. I first discovered Cubyrop on a random website one day last year. I really wanted to try some, but I had no idea where they were sold. I just KNEW they looked familiar when I saw them!

I feel very cheerful now after I had some. So I went and unearthed an old essay o’ mine. It looked better on Microsoft Word, though.

Written by me in the ninth grade. *Clears throat* Here I go.


I like apples. You like apples. We all like apples. Yayness.  Apples are <3. They are shiny. They are red. They taste good. Apples are not oranges. Apples can also be green, yellow, or both.

I like apples very much.Yay, now switching to pretty light blue. Psst. I am writing about apples. Apples are juicy. Apples like me. Do you like apples? Apples are good for you. An apple a day keeps the doctor away. You should eat more apples.


should like apples. HoW cAN YOu noT liKE

aPplEs? They are the best things ever created in the history of



— An [astonishing]

essay by: Mimi  =)

And if you don’t like apples I will personally hunt you down and throw apples at you. You deserve it, you apple hater. Mwahahahaha.

Thank you. ^________^



…If I ever submit this to a teacher they’ll ship me off the loony bin before I can even say “apple.”

Until next time,

~ Mimi =D

P.S. I really don’t like apples all that much. I prefer citrus.