Philly Cheese Steak!

Tonight, I managed to cook Philly Cheese Steak Sandwiches for dinner. The moment I saw a package filled with whole boneless steaks in the freezer, I knew I had to do something special with it. I deviated from the recipe a bit (using the stove top instead of the oven and leaving out the peppers), but I thought it turned out just fine. Besides, the others in my household gave it rave reviews.

Finally, I managed to complete this folded wonder for a coworker of mine. It has deep red cardstock with a black vine texture, plain black as a border, and special white with faded text print for the cones. It's a marvelous piece of work. My only issue while working with it was that the red cardstock began to crack when folded, revealing the white underneath. My quick-fix solution was to simply color the whitened sections with a red marker. The effect is so subtle that you wouldn't even know it had been damaged.

Remember when I said I had started writing in my journal? I'm still writing, almost every day since that one evening when I just felt this overwhelming desire to write. It's felt remarkably therapeutic, and I've finally found a coordinated way to organize my thoughts at the end of the day. Perhaps after a time of writing for myself, I might feel compelled to write stories and such for others. Only time will tell.

I Think I'm Obsessed with Lemon Drops.

Seriously. My best friend's mom decided to give me these Claey's Brand lemon drops, and I can't stop popping them in my mouth. Good thing they're cheap, or I would start suffering from withdrawal.

Last night I decided to write in my journal. It had been nearly a year since I last put an entry in, and the one before that was also a year. I'm not entirely sure what compelled me to write in my journal. I will admit the need to write and draw had been building up for some time without fail. What pushed me over the edge was an article on this webcomic. I feel that a lot of what it says not only applies to drawing, but writing as well. The most important lesson learned is "Stop hating on yourself." That one line was what pushed me over the edge and forced me to write like my life depended on it. I probably would have continued had my headache and exhaustion not overwhelmed me.

Granted, my written journal and my online journal are different for one major reason: only one contains thoughts I'd never make public unless I knew I was ready.

Update a few minutes later: Listen to this song by the Dandy Warhols. It always makes me feel good for reasons I cannot comprehend.

Writing and Doggies

I've been bit by bit teaching myself to write in a new style. I'll have to admit that my old style was cramping up my hand quite a bit, and it always positioned my hand so that it gathered ink and pencil lead across the whole page. The new style I plan to use takes quite the strain off my fingers. Not to mention I've been trying to utilize both my hands, so that I can write in any position I need to. It will take some time, but I'm willing to work for it.












To close, I've got some pictures of our dogs, Sunshine and Honey. Honey's the chihuahua/terrier mix, and the short, hairy black patterdale is Sunshine. Gotta love how Honey's got her front leg propped up and Sunshine has her front paws crossed like a proper lady. It's little traits like that that make me and my friend CardialJoe wonder what their human personalities would be like. I always imagined Honey like Sarah Silverman, and Sunshine secretly more like the announcer from "Team Fortress 2".

A Hard Lesson Learned

When you were a kid, did you do something horrible without realizing that it would happen? And when you got punished for it, did you feel a kind of injustice like wondering why you're being punished for your own naivete? Such is the case with these two boys. You can read the story for yourself, but I'll summarize it for you:

While playing in the bathtub with their Beyblade toys, they accidentally scratched the enamel on the tub so terribly that it broke off in large chunks. With repairs totaling $500, the parents saw fit not only to punish them by draining their savings, but also by selling their entire Beyblade collection on Ebay.

When I first read this article, all I could focus on was the older brother's sobbing face in that picture. I guess I'm empathizing a little too much with the children, but it's terrifying when you know you've gotten into more trouble than you can handle. A few of the comments for the article expressed this same sympathy, even detailing personal experiences. I remember one such experience; not so much as damaging personal property but certainly injuring someone else. Maybe I'll talk about it sometime.

But herein lies the question that I had pondered and continue to pick apart even now: Does this punishment fit the crime? More specifically, is the punishment inflicted appropriate or is it too extreme considering the naivete of the children involved?

I feel that the punishment is appropriate and invaluable. Actions in life have consequences, no matter what you know about the circumstances. The lesson learned isn't necessarily fair, but then again neither is life. And I'd rather my children know that they will have to take responsibility for their actions instead of simply removing privileges for a week and going on as though nothing had happened.

That's a little bit too much thinking for an event that, as one of my friends put it, "they won't even remember in 10 years."

Oh, "Starcraft"...

Cracked.com recently posted an article on "Starcraft". Upon reading this, I realize now that I need to step away from my computer and various other game consoles and get a life. I just don't know what to say about some of these people. It baffles me that a game that's actually pretty fun to play could have catapulted itself to such unnecessary heights. It's just a video game: an executable document on your computer meant to entertain yourself and, with online access, entertain a friend or a stranger for a short time. "Starcraft" is an extremely well-designed game for its time, and it ages very very well but it's not worthy of this.

The icing on the cake of this article is a fellow named "idra", who flies into a rage if he loses and demands an apology if you select the "Terrans" as your race. He looks like this. I am now convinced that every whiny, nasal-voiced rat who screams in anger at me or anyone else over Xbox Live looks just like this guy. In fact, I find it hilarious to imagining him attempting to smack-talk someone in the face who is definitely bigger and stronger than he is.

The moral of the story: Don't act bigger online than you can in real life. Sooner or later it will catch up to you.

You know, I wonder what would happen if "Starcraft" fell through and these guys were all forced to find actual jobs...

25th Anniversary of the Buckyball Day!

Before I begin, I'd like to point out that today is the 25th anniversary of the discovery of the Buckyball. Feel free to show some respect to the best molecule of carbon in the Universe!

I've noticed that my room has fallen into disarray. I can't really help it, since being a packrat and a mild slob is written into my genes. But I'm hoping soon to find some way of organizing my living quarters and all the things I've collected over the years. Perhaps this article could help out.

I have been doing something to organize my room and make it look fascinating. Based on the game "Mirror's Edge", I've devised a room that's color coded. The main components of the room will be white with hard-angle, black lacquer wooden furniture, and each section of the room will contain specific color coding. For example:

• Blue indicates my sleeping space, and accordingly comforts and personal hygiene.
• Green indicates my crafting area and anything that expands my mind, like books.
• Purple indicates entertainment, and in paperwork, travel expenses.
• Orange indicates my workspace, such as my desk, where I do my paperwork.
• Red is the color of anything that requires my immediate attention, such as the colored tin where I place my cell phone and wallet and a red binder where I keep all of my important documents.

Perhaps once I get my room completely finished, I'll include fancier elements, such as color-coordinated accents for the different parts of my room and even mild neon lights that shine from the backs of certain parts of my room. For now, however, I'm content to keep getting furniture and maybe hacking it every once in a while.

At the store where I work, we sell these tin lunchboxes which are now on sale for ninety-nine cents. They're not much to look at right now, but I'm hoping that I can take the four I've snagged and transform them into something Dieselpunk for my niece and nephews.

An Introduction!

I suppose the best place to begin would be with the basics. My name is Timothy Bussard, aka "Ronbun Kontan". I'm a 24 year old with a college degree, a big heart, and a little bit of trouble with common sense. I was born in northern Indiana, but I'm currently living in Roanoke, Virginia with my best friend, Joseph Ciotti and his family. I work at an arts and crafts store named A.C. Moore, though I'm hoping to go to college soon and get myself a degree in Accounting. I do have an associates degree in Computer Graphics Technology, which I got when I was still living in Indiana. I could say more, but I think it would be best if I let any extra information pop out while I'm writing these entries.

I should probably explain my screen name. A while back I was looking for a new Xbox Live name to use. I wanted to do something with my love for origami and papercraft, so I went with the name "Paper Soul". It was taken, so Joey suggested that I translate it into Japanese. With some help from a friend of his, we found a variety of words for "paper" and "soul". We finally hit the jackpot with "Ronbun" (paper) and "Kontan" (soul). I wasn't entirely sure of the name, since it did sound a little funny. I got used to it, though, and it's stuck with me ever since.

I began this blog ages ago as a way to state my peace and lay my opinion on the web in my own way. Though that didn't pan out quite as I expected it to, namely that I didn't write anything. I didn't (still don't) have the discipline to hold a journal with any regularity, but I suppose I could learn to develop it over time. It won't be pretty, but it will be a way for me to just write a few things and maybe get some folks to answer a few questions I might have.

As of right now, though, there's not a whole lot I could write about (at least nothing that wouldn't last several pages and maybe take several hours to write). I'll do my best to keep posting, and if you've stumbled upon this blog, I pray that I've written other things you find interesting!

Afterthought: Interpreting dreams is like sifting through droppings. They're leftover from what the brain has been digesting throughout the day. You can get a lot of information from droppings: what's being digested and what's not and even the health of the person. Just remember that you can often get better results by studying directly the person.