Post by MIKI ELAINE YASHIDA on Jul 16, 2011 11:49:41 GMT -5
MISS MIKI ELAINE YASHIDA
sixteen | mckinley high | mai kuraki
code word: admin edit
" Miki Yashida here. Reporting from the #1 cow-town in western Ohio, the lovely off-the radar Lima. At least it's not so off the beaten path that they don't have movie theaters. Now I may be sixteen, the lonely photographer of the school's yearbook committee (Jacob Ben Israel is more of the free-lancer type) and I may stick to the wallpaper so much people actually thought I liked Susie Pepper but that doesn't mean I don't have potential. One day I hope to set up a camera on a tripod, ask a lovely young woman to smile and make my living with a single shot. I want to live off the beauty of the world, and it's people. Maybe I'll add a husband (or a wife) and two kids to that picture. Maybe not..."
"I don't really think I could sum up the whole of my personality into a 300 word paragraph and yet I still keep getting asked to do that whenever I apply for a job at JCP. I'm respectful towards my teachers (even if Mr. Ryerson calls me Oriental #5 when he's in a mary jane blessed buzz) and I take part in the teenage hobby of gossiping (Do not judge me. It's pretty clear Mr. Schuester has an unnatural obsession with vests). I try my best not to scream at the Neanderthals that walk around the hallways throwing their power around. When you think about it worrying wont' do much. Most of those guys will burn out after high school, maybe get a job at Pottery Barn or Sheets-N-Things to pay for Night-Classes at the local community college. I dream of bigger things. I dream of having my own, perhaps at city near a coast, with my own studio. I'm not cut-out to be a model, which was my dream when I was four, but now I know that the people who take their pictures, who command their poses and styles... I want to be part of those people. I want to be part of that growing aspect of the entertainment industry. Even if I'm just catering to someone's whims, photography has become my life. "
" My life revolves around the Sanpuku Restaurant, that little Burger-King sized Japanese place near the bowling alley. Recently we put in a drive-thru. I was born into of family that already had two children. You'd assume I was babied and treated as the gentler of the bunch but my parents were, and still are, hardworking. I learned how to make dishes like tsukemono and miso-shiru. On holidays were made dumplings and moon cakes (which, to be fair, were more of a Chinese tradition and came from my mother's side of the family). We were all crammed into an apartment in the heart of the city of Lima and I never felt like I could really breathe in my home until my older siblings moved away. In a two-bathroom, three bedroom apartment with five people the tension could rise quickly but my mother always had the secret to diffuse the tension: food. Sometimes she tried cooking cuisine from other cultures. This lead to the Burning-The-Stove incident of 2006, which my father refuses to talk about (he does, however, smile when someone mentions it). Even while living in such a small space, in a town that's a little bit under the general tolerance level, with five people who were all born with strong personalities, things never were far from normal. Sure I got my first job cleaning dishes at thirteen and two years later I was able to buy my own Ipod with my wages (my parents were not that cheap) but I was still under scrutiny for academics. I think that now that my older brother Masaru is off at some university in Vermont and my sister Mitsuru is studying at Culinary School, my parents are wondering how I'm going to turn out. I haven't quite told them that running the restaurant or going off to study for a big career wasn't what I had in mind. It's not that they wouldn't understand but I think they've gotten so used to the calm and peace of Lima that they want me to have the same. It's nice but I was born to a generation that pushes the envelope, a generation that keeps moving forward.
A quiet life in Lima is not for me.
That is why I, sixteen years old and part of the dreadful McKinley High social status quo, hope to push the envelope in my own way. Photography is my way to deal with the tension but I know that there's something else I need. '"
" Hoooolla!!! All the Puertoricans say 'Haaaaaay'. No one? I'm the only one? Aw. Alright, enough of the chatter, I'm Chii but I'm also known as ReadySet-y. I'm eighteen, I've roleplayed for 5 years and I am one of the loudest Gleek Puertoricans on the island. You can email me at badkitten88@hotmail.com or look for my tumblr (if you google I'mreadytogo(getmeoutofmymind)+tumblr it should appear)"
" From Vocal Exhilaration (account: mikiyashida)
Miki pushed the door to the room open all the way, peeking in and scanning the room. The room was completely empty, only a few scattered chairs and a forgotten notebook lay among the risers at the back. The space between the risers and the black piano seemed expansive. A microphone on a stand was perfectly aligned with the wooden black piano and if you counted the tiles from the stand to the risers were there would be about six or seven. Miki’s yellow converse counted off the steps of one perfect row, leading away from the girl’s bag that had been left resting against a bookcase. The only windows were the ones at the back of the room, crammed into the space where the wall met the ceiling. The audio equipment and instruments were all crammed to the sides of the room and there wasn’t one space that wasn’t occupied by something (the area in front of the risers excluded).
To her the place looked ‘busy’. She couldn’t say it looked ‘lived-in’ because no one ever really stayed there, as far as she knew, and it wasn’t homely but it had a quality to it that no other place seemed to have. The air was full of something and the girl wondered if it was because it was devoid of the sickly sweet smell of slushie. The choir room had the energy of its occupants. There was a small trophy case somewhere in the back with awards for the 2009 and 2010 Sectionals and the 2010 Regionals. She knew because she photographed them as a favor to Mr. Schuester.
The only thing she got in return was a smile and a ‘thanks’ but Schuester was kind of cute. He needed to have a vest-intervention but he was cute nonetheless.
The Asian-American teen took in a deep breath and let herself fall onto one of the red chairs on the risers. She could see students walking by the hallway through the open door, while their heads whizzed by through the window of the other door. For a moment she wondered if one of them would walk by with their head seen through the windowpane. The head would keep by, unseen through the wall and appear by the open door with the expected body unattached. She giggled slightly at the thought, leaning back in the chair and staring up at the Styrofoam ceiling tiles.
Her thoughts always went to the weird side when she was nervous.
Lifting her wrist to blot out the artificial light of the fluorescent lighting, she noticed the time was somewhere between 10:05 am and 10:10 am. Miki had verified that this was Schuester’s free hour so maybe she could audition now that she had a free period as well. Her first thought when she learned of the coinciding free periods was that fate was sending her a message.
Now she was thinking that maybe her gut was sending her a message as well because it turned slightly at the thought of singing in front of anyone other than her non-critical family.
Non-critical in matters of singing, jokes and anything geared towards social commentary. They were pretty critical about everything else in her life.
She looked forward and her almond shaped, brown eyes lit up at the sight of a speaker hooked up to a stereo. Soon enough the doors were closed, but not locked, and the equipment was hooked up to her Ipod. It only occurred to her for a second that she was a bit insane for moving from ‘I Really Don’t Want To Do This’ to ‘Maybe I Should Practice’.
“Probably those damn estrogen levels. Thank you monthly period…”
The opening notes of The Veronica’s ‘All I Have’ began to play and Miki stood next to the speaker, turned towards the microphone that was a good three feet away and began to sing. Finding a purely instrumental version was hard and converting it had taken a good hour of online searching (the end result being a file conversion lasting a minute on Youtube Downloader).
“ I was missing you…You were miles away. He was close to me. I let him stay.”
Her voice grew louder and louder, to the point where it could be heard a bit over the level of the music. It was the good thing about music, just like photography, just like anything that could incite passion in someone. You could get lost in it, lost in the moment of nature’s beauty or in the beat of a song. You could be blind to everything but yourself and while Miki always complained within her head that everyone around her was too critical she often listened to them too much.
“And every time we fight. We're getting closer.” "
hey you! listen up! the credits for this lovely template go to your admin, haley. lyrics belong to the original glee song get it right and the songwriter, adam anders. keep these credits on or a) your application may not be accepted, b) you may be eaten, or c) both a and b. so keep the credits on!
