FINALS WEEK!

Goodbye 2009!

Well, 2009 is drawing to a close. And I gotta say, this year, I'm glad to see it go. It's hard to classify this year. On the one hand, I want to say the year was a success. After all, I met the girl i want to spend the rest of my life with--something I never thought that I would do, but especially not so young. And yet, I have, and it's fantastic.

With that said, in the same year that I met my beloved, I almost lost her. Twice. I met her at the beginning of the year--one year ago today, as a matter of fact--and I almost lost her in April. A tornado hit and destroyed a good portion of my hometown. Several months later, I was in a horrific car crash that my girl and I are still recovering from.

So where does 2009 lie? Is it a draw? Or should it be packed up and shipped out with a "good riddance" to follow it out the door. These are questions I don't have the answer to.

So I talked about the bad things--a tornado, a car wreck, various drama's a college involving regime changes, major drama in the summer from my fiance's crazy family--now I need to talk about good things.

I met my beloved. We began flirting, and the first several months of dating-but-not was awesome. We talked on the phone for hours. It was amazing. We started dating, which was even more amazing. We had tons of fun over the summer, despite drama, and our relationship grew. We went to college, where things were nearly perfect. I was fortunate enough to come into a bit of money so that I could some things I've always wanted and a new car. I got engaged. I began planning the rest of my life with my girl. My fiance has made a dramatic recovery from the wreck. The doctor's said she's 3 months ahead of schedule. She's doing amazing, proving, once again, how awesome she is.

I think if there were a theme to 2009, the theme would be change. So much has changed this year. My brother is in his senior year, I got engaged, we both got new cars, friends moved across the country, others drifted away, some drift back and forth. I got a bit of money to start planning a life with. I walk with a cane. My town has been rebuilding itself. Hundreds lost their homes, and yet, I've heard some say that the tornado saved a drowning town--now many of the companies that had no work have work to do again.

Whether they're good or bad changes, they were changes nonetheless.

So, goodbye 2009. I really won't miss you that much. You gave me some tough love, and I'm not sure I've forgiven you for everything you've done. But you brought me some really good things, too. I extend a firm, curt handshake to you. Welcome 2010. I hope you bring twice the fortune, with none of the tragedy.

Revenge of Lobster Man

How did I get here again? I'd like to say that I made some kind of horrible mistake, and I'm reaping the consequences of my actions, but that wouldn't be true. This is one time where I am not to blame for the misfortune that has befallen me, it is simply sorrow delivered straight from the Universe.

No, I didn't perform scientific experiments revolving around the genetics of lobsters and humans resulting in a super powered lobster man to rampage through my lab and nearby town in a furious rage on a quest to understand his origins. That would be way more interesting.

Thursday was my day off. To celebrate my day off, my friends and I -- and My Darling Dearest -- packed up and headed off to a swimming hole that we know of. It took a while to get there. My brother, who came along, thought we were fooling him when we told him you had to climb rocks to get there. We weren't. We were actually underplaying it a bit. It's a pretty hard hike to get to this swimming hole -- over enormous rocks cliffs.

Once there, I put on enough sunblock to fill the ozone layer and protect the Earth for the next 30,000 years. Then I went swimming. Then we ate lunch. Then I put on even more sunblock. I was literally dripping with it at one point, and I asked my girlfriend to aid me in the quest of rubbing it all in. We're both significantly Irish, so we burn easily. We knew the dangers.

Anyway, by the end of the day, which had resulted in about five hours of swimming, we headed back. It was hot. So hot, as a matter of fact, we all almost passed out. My face started going numb, so we all got back in the water -- a different spot, since we were on the hike on the way home -- to drop our body temperature some. By the time we got back, we were all thankful to be alive.

However, since then I have learned of the price I paid for my desire to continue shuffling along on this mortal coil. My ears, face, and back are sunburned raw, and my shoulders are so sunburned I have hundreds of blisters popping up. It hurts to move, and shirts are things worn only in the most dire of situations. Nobody else got it that but, just me and Oh Dearest One. She got it just as bad as I did.

I missed work Friday because it was so bad, and while it's improved since then, I'm not looking forward to going back to work today just so I can see the little tykes and have them slap me on my burns. By the way, it's "Wet and Wild" themed week at work...yippee dee. I get to be outside in the baking hot sun for hours on end. And I have to go to a water theme park on Wednesday with the kids. Even more time spent outside...

As if that wasn't bad enough, I got a TB test on Monday. On Wednesday, I was supposed to have it checked, but my boss left for the day and left me in charge, so i couldn't leave. So now I have to start all over!! I hate needles, and now I have to do it again...and then again b/c if you haven't had a TB test in 2 years, they make you take two...

Wake me up when this week is over, okay?

Niftiness and Computer Trials

So, my desktop with, like, 256 mB of memory (I'm sure that's an exaggeration but I'm mad, I have the right to exaggerate) isn't cutting it anymore. So my grandma gave me her old computer, which is newer than mine. After a week of badgering me to come get it, I go get it and take it home. I take it to my room, I hook it up, I turn it on, it detects a wireless network (ours) I connect...and...then it can't detect them anymore. I checked around, and supposedly all I have to do is remove the card and put it back in, and it should fix itself. I hope so. After last night, I threatened to throw it in the street and back over it with my car. I would have done it too, but my family wouldn't let me out the door with it. The saddes thing is, if we get my computer fixed tomorrow, it'll be just in time for me to leave and go back to college. *le sigh*

My brother is also getting an upgrade (yet hand-me-downed) computer -- my mom's old computer. Since that one needs a wireless card to pick up our wireless network, he put the one from his old computer into. Only now the drivers and stuff won't install. The CD just refuses to open. So now he's stuck meandering through the computer's brain, trying to figure out why the CD won't open.

**Update: It seems that the problems have been fixed, finally.**

Anyway, all these computer problems are frustrating, but I found something that kinda makes the unhappiness roll away. It's Jim Carrey, one of my favorite actors, singing "I Am the Walrus" by The Beatles. Don't judge it before you listen to it. I was surprised that he can actually sing, while still putting his own unique touches on it. Even one of my friends, who is a HUGE Beatles freak, really enjoyed the song. Anyway, for you listening and viewing pleasure, Jim Carrey:

Performance 16

1. Furiously read through the script because even though you've run this play at least 200 times, you seem to have forgotten the order of the scenes.

2. Constantly check yourself to make sure your fly is zipped, your shirt is buttoned, your wig is on straight and you are in fact, wearing your pants.

3. Avoid water 7 hours before your performance in fear that you will need to pee in the middle of the performance.

3 a) Despite your efforts, you have to pee anyway, and for some reason this is the time you decide to contemplate how Noah avoided sea sickness on the ark.

4. Scratch your legs until you bleed trying to keep from itching that spot in the middle of your face and screw up your make up.

5. Develop the habit of blinking frequently and rapidly because you're brand new contacts have chosen this moment to screw up and glaze over.

6. Frantically quadruple check that all the props are in their proper places, reorganize them, forget your "improved" organization order, and panic when you can't find one prop.

7. Sit in a corner, crying, and asking yourself why you chose to be in a stupid local play in the first place, you don't like talking in front of people anyway.

8. Write out Post-Its with custom deadly threat and place each one in the seats your friends will sit in. Make sure they understand, if they laugh at you, they will suffer.

9. Tear down every flyer in the town and throw a bucket of paint over the giant sign advertising the play and hope nobody will show up because they don't know what time the play starts.

10. Fake a sign saying the play is canceled.

11. Dress in dark clothes and a white mask and, through the power of song and special effects, scare the audience away and close the show early.

12. Practice loosening your lips for 2 constant hours before the performance in fear of messing up a line during the play.

12 a) Work your lips too much and suffer a rare but painful face cramp in which your face locks down and you cannot move your lips to say your lines, and just so happen to look like you're sneezing through your nose as well.

13. Badger your fellow actors back stage every 5 minutes to ask if your make up still looks fine.

14. When someone mentions breaking a leg, stand and curse loudly for 10 minutes, accusing the director and the rest of the cast of trying to jinx you before your first big performance.

14 a) Insist a witch-doctor be brought in to rid the area of its "bad joo joo."

15. Write a blog post about your fears that will help you loosen up and then try to relax before your performance.

16. Call up the local government officials about being entered into the witness protection program to escape your humiliation if the performance goes bad anyway...just in cast.

The Bates Motel

Gather round ye lads and lasses and I'll spin you a tale of misery and woe. For on this trip that was such a dreary occasion, the Rayburn family was expecting to have some fun. Unfortuantely, it was not in the cards. The family set out, soon to find that the tv that was expected to work in the van, did not. The movies brought along were useless, as were the video games, and time began to slow. Music can only occupy for so long, and with only one device to listen on, the children were soon sqwabbling over who would get it next, and for how long. Ye it was a long drive, and one taken with few bathroom breaks, as the highway department had apparently been studying our heroes trip, and new to remove all bathrooms, or directions to them.

After much whining and biting of heads, our troop did stop at a quant little inn. Ignoring the ominous skulls and spears and vultures skulking about the premises they went ahead and booked rooms for the whole week. Oh woe, for little they could guess the terror that awaited them. The young manager introduced himself as Norman, a kindly young man, if a bit on the odd side. It seemed odd that he sold weaponry as well as cars and rooms to stay in -- almost as if he were providing one with all they would need for a dastardly night on the town.

Once in the room, the fabulous family was greeted with a shocking sight, one that left them depressed and downtrodden. The walls were dirty, the lights were non-working or dim, the room did swelter, the bathroom was effing freezing, but bearing a forced grin the fam did drop bags and prepare for nighttime. The oldest boy Rayburn, Jason his name was, did learn another horrible truth. Apparently, back problems are a favorite for the fates to play games with, and Jason learned that his back would sing a glorious ode to pain, as the mattresses were built like square bowls, everything sloping toward the middle.

Ye while the beds were unfortunate enough for our heroes, the fates had more in store. For what did Jason find when he rose in the night for a Tums, why bugs invading the room. Much worse than the run-of-the-mill-bug, these bugs were decended from the Huns. They raced in carrying spears and daggers, swords flashing and knashing their teeth. Many a one had a moustache that reached to the floor, which they enjoyed to twirl while they sneered at our tasty looking family of the world. Having slept almost none and already awake, Jason's mother rose to help him find the antacid since he didn't pack the medicine and had no flipping clue where anything that he needed was, but ye, she was ready for the surprise onslaught. Armed with a can of bugspray and a swatter of flies, she beat the demons back to their hole, where they would tend their wounds and plot revenge.

Once Jason had returned to his bed, he learned sleep would dance out of his grasp for the remainder of the night, for lo, did the bathroom grumble and hiss. It seemed the toilet never stopped flowing, and the mystery hidden in the walls threw a festival next to his ear. But surely, if that was enough, more still came to plague him. For while he tried to block out the noises of the room, he heard worse noises still. People in the next room did socialize, with their video boxes blaring loud and true, defiant of what decent people have dubbed "quiet time." What's more, they had kids, who delighted in stomping and screaming and yelling. When the neighbors weren't creating it, the traffic outside would unload noise at the most inopportune times. A fleet of diesels and an armada of motorcycles traveled the road that night, and Jason was awake to count every one.

By dawn the next morn, our heroes were ready to flee from the Bates Motel. They rallied each other from their uncomfortable sleep, and packing their bags in a manic frenzy, canceled the rest of the stay and ran for the hills, to a shining home-away-from-home on a hill, a blessed promise land known as Helluvalotbetter, where they would reside for the remainder of the trip.

Next time, lads and lasses, I shall spin ye more webs of the Rayburn woes, including the Tale of the Stingy Shed Ogre, and the Incredible Shifting Town of Nowhere.

Back

I'll post a real post soon, I just wanted to let you know that I'm back, and kinda strung out. I'm going to take the day to relax and rest, because tomorrow it's back to school!!! (*barf*) and I've got to be ready for that. I'm worried about my tests, it stormed all night, so I couldn't sleep . . . *sigh*. Mantra to repeat: Reeelaaaax.

Happy Belated Easter

Hey guys, happy belated Easter. I'm on the road, out of state, on spring break, and trying to take care of somethings on the legal end of my dad's estate. I didn't think I'd be able to post, and I'll explain more later, but after the nightmare that was yesterday/this morning*, things seem to be working out for the better, at least for now.

*Trust me, it's a doozie of a story.

The Idea Well

Everyone writer has one. We go to it whenever we need ideas -- whether it be for stories, or characters, or for chapters for novels or whatever. It's the place where all creativity is stored. Sometimes it's called our muse. That's probably a better description when the muse is being bitchy, but for the purpose of this illustration, it's a well.

After I sent my stories off, I was reluctant to get back to the keyboard. I wasn't the first couple days, but the longer I wait for responses, the less eager I am to get back to writing. I don't feel excited, and actually getting the words to flow takes longer and longer to do. I wasn't sure what was locking me up, but I've had trouble sleeping because I keep dwelling on it, and I finally figured it out. It came to me when I was clearing out old files on my computer.

Everynow and then I go through the computer and look at what I've got saved that's been building up and stuff. Obviously, since the virus fiasco, I don't have as much built up, but I'd like to think that deleting some of the crap time to time helps the computer run faster.

Well, I looked through my story folder at stuff that might be a candidate for deletion, when I realized something. I almost never delete anything I write, ever. Everything I've written (with the exception of some one page starts that fizzled before they got going) is still saved on there. I browsed through the files and found stories I started in the sixth grade that are still on there.

I finally got it, what I was afraid of. When I go back to my story, it's the first original idea I've had in a while, something that I just came up with when I was sitting around one day. I was inspired by the movie 12 Monkeys starring Bruce Willis, but it actually has almost nothing to do with 12 Monkeys, but I'm getting off track. The reason I'm afraid of going back to the keyboard and the reason I never delete anything, is because I'm petrified of running out of ideas.

I think part of the reason that I finished only one or two stories in my life and then left the rest to gather dust on the hard drive is so I could come back to them, write on them, improve them, make them pretty, and then leave them. I was always guaranteed to have something to write as long as all those stories were left unfinished, or the ones that were finished could be rewritten every few years as I improved in my writing.

When I sent off my stories, it was the first two I'd completed in a long time, and my mind went through shock. I just sent two ideas off. I can't go back and rewrite those, I can't improve them. They're gone.

The reason I never finished a novel idea was because I was afraid that if by some astronomical chance I got published, I was afraid I would be a one hit wonder. I was, and still am, afraid that if I get anything published, it's dwindling the number of ideas I'll have. I haven't settled into one genre very easily, I don't have ideas off the wazoo, I haven't, until a few years ago, written very much very consistently, and I don't dream that often to get ideas.

I'm absolutely terrified that I've already drawn the good stuff out of the idea well, and that eventually I'm going to draw stuff that either sucks, or that has been done over and over and over.

So . . . now that I've figured out the problem, I have to figure out how I can fix it.

Submission and Opening Pandora's Box

As many of you know, I finally got the guts up to mail off a couple of my short stories for publication. Yesterday, I mailed it off.

I was going to mail them off on Saturday, but we wound up not going to town until the post office had already closed. Since the mail didn't run on Sundays I had to wait until Monday to mail them off. In the mean time, I started researching magazines, because one of the first things I realized was you can't sell a short story if you don't know what market to send it to.

I found some that were perfect, but then I decided I needed to go through one last time and make sure everything was square. Since it was for real this time, since it was for all the bannanas, I wanted to make sure that I had caught all the grammer mistakes, that I had fixed all the parts where the writing was weak, blah blah. What I didn't realize was that, by examining the stories for just a moment, I opened Pandora's box.

I saw one thing that didn't work. No, two. No, three. Now, four. Five? Six? What were they, multiplying? At one point I was so delirious that I swear, when I looked at the page, I saw the words fornicating and creating more and more errors and mistakes.

In horror, I set out with my trusty pen and began hacking and slashing, fixing errors and repairing typos, changing parts of the story that didn't seem to work, or fleshing out areas that needed more fleshing. I must have cost us a small fortune in paper and ink, and I'm sure everyone in my family read them five times, if not more. I apologized to my mom over and over and over again about all the trouble I was putting everyone through. Bless my mom's heart, by the end of the evening, she was probably more frazzled about the mailing than I was.

Finally, I got the last draft done, a few errors had to be fixed but nothing major. Then I stressed on printing out address labels, making sure the addresses were perfect and the right SASE (Self-Addressed, Stamped Envelope to those of you who -- like I did -- have no clue what a "SASE" is) with the right manuscript envelope, and finally, I crashed into bed at one in the morning, exhausted from stressing so much.

The next morning, I woke up at around 7:30 -- the usual time for me on the weekdays -- but by 10:00 I was already exhausted. I had hardly slept the night before; I was still worrying about the manuscripts. So I decided to take a nap. At noon I woke up in horror, my heart pounding, because I realized a few pages from one of my manuscripts still had writing on them from errors I had to fix, and I hadn't printed out the new pages to replace them. I flew to my laptop and, in a frenzy, I fussed with it until every page was perfect.

Then, I had another problem. Paperclips! I needed paperclips! Everyone knows you can't mail off a manuscript without paperclips!!! So then I had to search the house for paperclips. We were out! So I called my mom and had to have my brother pick up paperclips from her work so that I could mail them off.

So then, I finally had to go to the post office. The last time I went, I had made a simple mistake -- I thought I had grabbed all the money in my pocket to buy stamps, but I had forgotten a nickel, so then the old, bald man behind the desk had to look at me like I was an idiot and tapped his fingers impatiently after saying, "If you don't have more than that you're not getting any," while I searched for the missing, elusive nickel.

With that event still fresh in my mind, I felt my chest tighten. I didn't know what to buy or what stamps or how many I'd need. What if I messed up? What if I didn't get enough postage and then they got sent back, and then I'd have to wait even longer for a resonse. What if there was a line at the post office and, after running out of patience with my doddering around with my little stories, they rioted and sacrificed me on a table made of postage stamps and Express Mail boxes.

My heart pounded as I approached the desk. I cleared my throat and said, in a pitifully soft voice, "Ma'am, I'm here to mail these. I'll need a lot of stamps."

She smiled at me sweetly and looked at the envelopes. Then, she helped me buy giving me four stamps for the SASE, a book of stamps for home (because we were out) and then weighing and putting the proper stamps and their proper number on each package.

When I finally paid and left, my hands were cold, clammy, and shaky. I had done it. I had finally done it. I mailed off my stories, I submitted a manuscript...something I'd heard on author's blogs and biographies all my life, but never actually thought I'd do.

I drove in a daze, not really taking in anything that I saw as I drove. I got home and collapsed onto the couch.

A short story is only a fragment of what a novel would be. Just the thought of making sure every page of the novel was mistake-free makes me break out in cold chills. Not to mention, all this horror, all the ink and effort and stress and strain, and I still won't hear from them for months, and when I do, it may not (probably won't) be a "yes."

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go dig my stuffed tiger "Hobbes" from my closet, fix myself a cup of hot cocoa, and curl up underneath my bed covers and hide from the Big Scary World.

Day Two And The Resolutions Are Falling Apart Already

Well, I think I'm gonna have to set some goals and be specific, because so far, the goals are falling apart. I've resolved to write more, finish some short stories, come up with more story ideas, and start running every morning. I've had some story ideas, but the rest of the goals have been iffy.

I ran today, but that's the first time for several days. I've learned that when the temperature when you wake up is 12 degrees, it's best to wait a few hours before you go running, and give the air a chance to warm up. By the time I came back, I suspected I had frost bite on my ears, my hands, and several other placed I would prefer not have it.

I've had a couple of story ideas, but I've just been letting them slosh around while I finish the story I'm working on. I'm not plotting this one, just letting it go and see how things go. This is just an experiment. I mapped and planned and sucked all the fun out of writing trying to get every little detail down, so now I'm going organic-ish for my stories to see if I can make it more fun.

Two problems with that:

1. It makes for getting stuck to be very easy.
2. When you get stuck, it makes it easier to procrastinate.
3. Procrastination leads to no writing.
4. That's bad for my goals.

So I need to find a happy medium, where I can plot out and know how things are going, but also leave room for loosey-gooseyness and fun.

Anyway, how's the new year going for everyone else so far?

The Pre-Semi-Mid-Week Finals Report

Well gang, they’re here. The dreaded finals are in full swing, and I’m already feeling the effects of them. They’re taking my strength with them like some kind of…strength…taking…thing… I can’t even come up with decent metaphors anymore. I’ve had two finals so far, and I have two tomorrow, which I’m NOT looking forward to. Tomorrow is that devil’s spawn Biology. The sooner I get done with these the better.

On the plus side, I read a lot before I had to get sucked into the finals studying frenzy. Right now I’m almost halfway through with the final book in Holly Lisle’s Secret Text trilogy. They’re absolutely fantastic! Very rarely do I read a book with so much depth and originality, but Holly Lisle does it every single time. I have a whole bunch of her books that are on my “To be read when things return to a safe level of insanity” shelf, and I can’t wait to get started on them. If you can find them, and you get the chance, I definitely recommend Holly’s Secret Text trilogy.

Also, I’m reading Sherman Oak and the Magic Potato, by S. William Shaw. They’re kids novels, but Shaw has a great, quirky way of telling the story that I absolutely love. The story itself is very original, and Shaw proves just how crazy he is with the different wacky monsters that Sherman meets in his quest. This is another one that I recommend if you want a good read. Definitely pick this up for your kids, parents. It’s totally worth it (you might even want to read it yourself).

Well, I’m going back to the grindstone. Three more finals and I’ll be out of school for a month! Then comes Christmas!! Before too long I hope to have some writing news to give you, but as many of you know, a bug at all my stories, and all my notes, and I haven’t had time to get anything back with College poking its nose in my business all the time. Well, wish me luck, and for those of you who are going on trips for the holidays, good luck, and travel safely.

One Project Down

Peaking out of my bunker to let you know that I got my Biology project done yesterday. So that's one research paper/presentation down, and one paper to go. Then I have two tests to study for, and all my finals. Hopefully I can keep my grades up through the rest of the semester. College is so much fun...

Digging in for the storm

I've got two research papers, a test, and all my finals coming up in these few weeks, so if you don't hear from me for a while, I'll be up to my neck in the college avalanche. Wish me luck.

It's Been A While

Whoo, it's been a serious while, hasn't it? I opened up this thing and I swear, it was like opening one of those old boxes in the attic that you keep because you want to look back later and reminice. You know, every now and then, you add something new before you bury it in boxes and dust. Just a second ago, I think I saw a virtual spider attacking a helpless family of flies.

Sorry, I'm feeling rusty. I've disappeared, because college life is not as easy as it looks on TV (who would have thought?), but I think things are gonna work out okay. It was a rough ride, though.

Damn it all, I missed Halloween. Here, there was nothing, but this coming weekend my friends are having a very belated Halloween party, and that should be fun. Nothing like Halloween in November. I wonder if that's like Christmas in July? Thanksgiving is coming soon, the perfect chance to eat a whole hell of a lot and spend the next three days suffering from the side-effects of making yourself look like a pig. I can't wait. It will be the first Christmas with my best friend, and I'm sure he'll get a kick out of my uncle, he's quite the character.

Let's see, what comes after Thanksgiving? New Years Eve, April Fools Day, Groundhog Day...oh yeah, CHRISTMAS! Oh, I can't wait for that one. I've already started shopping, ha ha. I'm definitely NOT one of those last minutes shoppers.

If I used to go to your blogs, I'd love you to post the link to them in the comments. Both my laptop and my desktop at home had to get wiped out, and I lost all my links that I've been collecting for the better part of four years. *sigh* I was sad to see it go. That was a nightmare. My laptop was littered with errors that brought up a pretty striped screen of death. It turns out it was the graphics card, but that was before we wiped out my computer. It probably needed it, but I would have liked to have had a backup record of links and files that are now spiraling into the abyss.

Then, my desktop got a pretty worm virus on it and I had to wipe out the entire thing. That pissed me off a little, because that computer was the dumping ground. It had EVERYTHING I loved on it. All my old stuff, old stories from the sixth grade, essays I wrote to get into college, songs lyrics, music sheets, drawings, lots of stuff, gone in an instant. But that'll teach me. I should back up my stuff.

Oh, and in other news, it's NaNoWriMo! For those of you who want some fun, Lynn Viehl has some great stuff on her site in the archives, and she usually posts every year. More news on NaNoWriMo when I get some. I never participate because I never have the time to dedicate that it requires. I barely have time to write as it is.

Anyway, that's all my catching up for now. How's everyone else?

Blogger Hiccup

I had a whole post written out and stuff. It was pretty funny if I do say so myself, but Blogger is apparently going to crap out on me today. So here's a replacement post, if it goes through: random doodles from some of my classes. Not much, but I'm too agrivated to rewrite the whole post.

Moving Madness and a Meme

Whoo, man has it been a week. I've been scrambling around trying to clean the house (especialliy my room which looked like a bomb had been set off in my garbage can) and packing for THE BIG MOVE. It's coming, and I'm terrified. I'll have a room mate, but that doesn't mean that I'll like him or that he'll like me. He could be a royal jackass, or I could have a whole series of horrible misadventures. For a list of things that could go wrong, see this post.

Anyway, so we've been scrambling around like chickens with our heads cut off for the past couple of days and it'll only get worse as we get closer to THE DAY of THE BIG MOVE.

So, because I'm bored and because it looks like fun, I got a meme off of MerylF's blog which I will now do. Instead of doing it about me, I think I'll do it about The Dark Lord Sauron from the Lord of the Rings (before he was turned into a crazy, fiery eye), just because I'm crazy like that.

1. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?
Yes, it just so happens that I'm named after my Great, great, great grandfather The Dark Lord Marian-Stacy...he wasn't Dark Lord for very long.

2. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?
I always get a little teary eyed during Leo's death scene in Titanic. *sniff*

3. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING?
My handwriting is horrible. It's hard for your handwriting to improve when you have people to write your letters and death threats for you. The only time I write is during December when I have to send thank you cards to my grandmother.

4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT?
Hobbit. If you fry them in a pan with some onions and then put them on a couple of slices of sourdough bread, I swear, you can hear angels sing.

5. DO YOU HAVE KIDS?
Unfortunately, no. It's hard to go out and find a girl when you're busy taking over Middle Earth...and when you do get to go out, the girls are always afraid of my spikey helmet and black armor. You'd think they'd understand that Dark Lords get have feelings, too.

6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU?
Of course. I don't know anybody better than me.

7. DO YOU USE SARCASM A LOT?
Noooo! Not me! I'm always straight with what I'm saying.

8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS?
Yes. To tell you the truth, I'm a little afraid I might need them out sometime soon. My dad was 562 when he got his tonsils taken out, and I'll be 562 next fall.

9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP?
Hell no! I'm terrified of heights and amusement park ride supervisers.

10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL?
Sauron's Cinnamon Swirls. I ordered my best men to create that for me.

11. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF?
No, I wear metal boots.

12. DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STRONG?
Well...I don't like to brag, but take out an entire force of men in one swing of my mace.

13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM?
Oh, Rocky Road is to die for.

14. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE?
Their shoes. If they're not Italian or Dwarvish, they're just not worth wearing.

15. RED OR PINK?
Oooh, that's a tuffie. I like red...it's the color of blood and fire, but I think I'll have to go with pink, because it brings out my eyes.

16. WHAT IS THE LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF?
I care too much. I only maimed a family of Hobbits because they were having a birthday party.

17. WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST?
My stuffed teddy bear, Mr. Fluffums. I lost him last week and haven't been able to find him.

18. DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO LINK THIS BACK TO YOU?
You mean with a chain, Why would I want someone to chain themselves to me by my laptop.

19. WHAT COLOR PANTS (Or Kilt) AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING?
Black leg armor, black leggings, and spaceship underwear.

20. WHAT WAS The LAST THING YOU ATE?
A salad. I'm trying to watch my figure.

21. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW?
The dying screams of the tortured...and a Yani cd.

22. IF YOU WHERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE?
Robin's Eggshell Blue. They're so beautiful in the spring!

23. FAVORITE SMELLS?
Fresh grass, rain, flowers, baking bread, and the rotting remains of my enemies corpses.

24. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE?
My mum. She called to remind me to brush my teeth after my reign of terror.

25. DO YOU LIKE THE PERSON WHO LINKED THIS TO YOU?
Again with the linking. Look pal, whips and chains and stuff is okay for some people, I'm just not into it.

26. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH?
Hobbit squashing and golf.

27. HAIR COLOR?
Well...technically I'm bald.

28. EYE COLOR?
Bloodbath red.

29. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS?
Duh, did you think the eye color was natural?

30. FAVORITE FOOD(S)?Hobbit calves, Dwarf tricept, and chocolate moose

31. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS?
Happy endings.

32. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED?
Our orc training video: "Working like an Orc: How not to piss off your boss and die in the first week."

33. WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING?
Black

34. SUMMER OR WINTER?
Summer. I like warmer (or even hot) weather.

35. HUGS OR KISSES?
Hugs!

36. FAVORITE DESSERT?
Chocolate moose

37. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW?
"Be a Better Leader, Take Charge of that Army of Doom"

38. WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD?
Hello Kitty!

39. WHERE WERE YOU BORN?
The Shire, Middle Earth, yes, I'm 1/4 Hobbit. I just had a growth spurt, and then a run-in with a mystical, disfiguring gem.

40. WHOSE ANSWERS ARE YOU LOOKING FORWARD TO GETTING BACK?
Gandalfs! He's such a riot. And Bilbo if he has time to do this!!!

Make the Itching Stop!

Hey guys, long time no blog, I know. Last week we had to mow the yard. I was weed-eating the ditch (weed-whacker, whatever) and it turns out, all of the poison ivy in the entire state is located in our ditch. So I've been spending the past several days trying to get the itching to stop. It got so bad I had to go to the doctor to get some medicine that'll get rid of it. Calamine lotion doesn't work, anti-itch cream, herbal remedies, I tried everything. It's starting to go away, and I feel much better. It should be gone pretty soon, maybe by Wednesday. Wish me luck.

Exhausted Thursday's Doodles

Okay, so let me fill you in on where I've been. I had a friend come over Tuesday, and I was very excited about that. It won't be long and I'll move away and leave my best friend behind. It's sad when I think about it. Anyway, then after he left yesterday, we had a very rough day. We had family problems that escalated into some very bad stuff. I won't go into details, but my family was called in as a peace keeper. I worked on my storyline, although I hit a snag I'm trying to work around. So between company, peace keeping, and trying to work around my story problems, I had very little time to doodle. I have a couple of drawings, but didn't have time to scan them, so I'm posting a picture that I sketched that's on the main site. I really like this picture. It's Garra from the anime Naruto. He's my favorite character on the show. Anyway, enjoy! Here's hoping things clear up.

Sweet Revenge

A little news first: I finally got to quit my job!! I'm so happy! Now I'm free to do what I want for a few more months. In celebration from being out of the job from hell and graduating a few months ago/getting away from the teacher from hell, I'd like to bring to you, this post! Oh, and Happy Friday the 13th!

_____________________________________

Announcer: Ladies and gentlemen, it's time for America's favorite gameshow!

Crowd: Blast that Bastard!!! Whooo!

Announcer: And now, the host of your show, it's Preppy McTooeager!

Preppy: Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, we have a great show for you tonight. All the way from Nowheresville, USA, it's Jason Rayburn. Jason, say hello to the crowd.

Jason [sheepishly]: Hello.

Preppy: Alright, do you know the rules of the game?

Jason: I'm supposed--

Preppy: Whoah there buddy, let's explain it for the folks at home, shall we?

Jason: But if this is "America's Favorite Gameshow", then--

Preppy: Alright! The rules of the game are, you have to guess the identity of each bastard that we bring out from behind video screen. For every one you get right, you get 200 points! Whether you get it right or not, those bastards will be brought out and sat on stools while you get to stand a minutes torture from each of them. If you can survive a full minute, for each minute you survive, you get 300 points.

Jason: Wait, what?! Tort--!

Preppy: After that round, the points will be tallied up and if you win enough points, what does he get Johnny?

Announcer: He gets to blast one of those bastards right outta here!

Preppy: But you can only pick just one.

Jason: No way! I get tortured by all three and I can only hurt one.

Preppy: This game teaches that revenge is a family event, and that lifes not fair. [rubs Jason's head] Alright, it's time to play...

Audience: BLAST THAT BASTARD!

Preppy: And now it's time for round one. Can you guess who this person is?

[A silouhette of a short fat lady with frizzy out of control hair is brought into the video screen]

Jason: That's my old boss--

Preppy: Hey! [rushes over to Jason's chair and begins patting on the face...well more like slapping him] [whispers] Shut up and let them talk. The studio is kind enough to sponsor this show even though we're flopping. Shu'up and play the game right! [to the screen] Hey! Bastard Number One! Go!

Bastard 1: HELLO!? IS THIS THING ON?? IT BETTER BE! I HAD TO LEAVE MY JOB WHERE I MAKE FOUR TIMES AS MUCH AS EVERYBODY ELSE TO COME DOWN HERE! I DON'T MAKE A LOT OF MONEY, SO THIS BETTER WORK! LOOK AT THIS PLACE IT'S A WRECK! DUSTY, COBWEBS! IT'S WONDER YOU GUYS AREN'T SHUT DOWN!

Preppy: Alright, let's here our player's guesses.

Bastard 1: ...WHAT IF THAT WERE TO FALL ON MY HEAD! GET OVER HERE AND PICK THIS UP! I MIGHT SLIP AND FALL!

Preppy: [into his sleeve, quietly] Johnny cut her mike!

[Bastard 1's mouth continues to move as she shouts, but no sound comes out]

Preppy: Do you have any guesses?

Jason: Like I tried to tell you before, that's my old boss Sheila O'Shreekerton. Say, she's a girl, so technically wouldn't she be a--

Preppy: Alright, let's bring out our next bastard!

(40 minutes later)

Preppy: Alright, we're back, and were just about to enter the final round! Jason got some bonus points when his old gym teacher tore through our video screen and began pounding Jason to a pulp. You okay, Jason?!

[Jason wearily raises his hand. He's holding a bloody rag to his nose with his other hand and a bag of ice is propped on his head carefully.]

Preppy: That's great!

Coach Sassy Quatcha (Phys. Ed. Coach): I always hated that little pansy. He never like wrestling or anything like that. Always writing stories in his little notebook.

Mrs. Crani K. Britche (Art Teacher): And he was never reading like he was supposed to. He always spent all his time doodling in his notebooks and writing those stupid stories than reading like he was told to. Maybe if he'd been any good at drawing instead of drawing those ugly little creatures...what do you call 'em? Amine? Animeat? Anyway, everyone knows those aren't real art.

Preppy: Okay, guys, that rounds over, remember?

Jason: I'm getting dizzy. I think I need to go to the hospital.

Preppy: Nonsense! You're a trooper!

Jason: I think I'm dying...

Preppy: And now it's time for the final round! Judges, what's his score!

Announcer: It's 2600 points!

Preppy: Aww, I'm sorry. That's too bad. Looks like you didn't earn enough to blast one of 'em! Until next time folks!

Jason: Wait, what? No way, I'm getting my turn!

[Jason rushes forward, laughing maniacally and grabs one of the laser cannons from the shelf]

[crackle! crack! sputter! flip-flip-flip...]

WE'RE SORRY. THE SHOW YOU ARE WATCHING IS EXPERIENCING TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES. PLEASE STAY TUNED TO CHANNEL 8--"AMERICA'S NEXT TOP RADIOACTIVE MONSTER" IS NEXT.