|
|
Tuesday, January 5th, 2010
|
|
|
Gone to New York for a week. Cell is back, (770) 871-1485.
See ya later!
|
|
Comments: Read 9 or Add Your Own.
|
|
Sunday, January 3rd, 2010
|
|
|
So New Years was alright. Went out with Marc and Adam to... well, nowhere in particular, really. We just sorta wandered around. We bowled ONE game of bowling and I totally almost won if not for my incredibly terrible bowling ability. We then watched Kathy Griffin make Anderson Cooper look uncomfortable for the New Year. Hooray!
Last I heard, the people moving into my house in June is a done deal (and, uh, it needs to be guys if you read this :( ), however now my mom is talking about what she's going to do with the dogs when they leave. I was under the impression they'd be taking Pluto and I'd be keeping Katie, but apparently they can't take Pluto. So I must wonder if I should offer to keep the big guy, too. That dog used to be terrible, but he's okay now. I'd hate to see him given away to a terrible family.
Adam and I have played Secret of Mana for the past two days and I want to die.
If I don't make an entry before Tuesday, I'll be gone for a week to El Grande Manzana. Adios!
|
|
Comments: Read 1 or Add Your Own.
|
|
Friday, January 1st, 2010
|
|
Tuesday, December 29th, 2009
|
|
|
It's not actually Picnic Time, but it instead Meme Time. I haven't done one in awhile, so here goes. Shamelessly stolen from a few people who have names beginning with "K."
( Let's Talk About 2009 )
|
|
Comments: Read 4 or Add Your Own.
|
|
Monday, December 28th, 2009
|
|
|
So let's talk about Christmas already, jeez.
In the morning I had to pick up my sister as she'd spent Christmas Eve at a friend's house. As I had just awoken, I decided to get her without actually grabbing a coat or shoes. So, just out of bed, I hopped in my mother's car and went to get my sister. Much to my chagrin, I found myself there with a flat tire. Fun! I'd also forgotten my cell phone (did I mention I'd gotten a new charger? I got a new charger).
After attempting in vain to change a tire without proper shielding from the cold and knowledge of my mother's car, I waited for her to bring me clothes and knowledge and we changed a damned tire. My sister got very upset that my mom and I were getting upset outside her friend's house... which was lame of her, but after an hour or so of sulking in her room, she got over it and we had a late Christmas.
Afterward, I went to the Testman household, wherein I had Christmas 2: Electric Boogaloo. Thomas actually beat me there this year, which was weird. Another weird occurrence: including the game we played on Christmas and Cranium played on Sunday, I didn't win at any board games this year! What a weird Christmas.
Anyway, had fun at Christmas. Had some finger foods. Played some games. Had some conversation. Gave and got gifts. Etc etc.
Here is a picture from Christmas Day, taken by Thomas, where we were urged to look like we were having the worst Christmas ever.
From left to right: Joe's mom's friend Roseanna, Joe holding Brianna (holding one of the presents I got her so haha), Joe's mom, Joe's sister Rei, and me in the background. At the bottom is their dog, Romanov.
There was also a picture taken where it looks like Thomas and I are making out, but I don't have access to that photo.
After Christmas festivities, I went with Joe and Erin to stay with them for the weekend where they live: the middle of nowhere.
It was cool, though. While I joked that their neighborhood looked like a cult installation and that I'd never seen more barns in my life, it was still awesome to chill with them. Even though I left the tip for dinner one night and bought Joe and Brianna food on Sunday, I don't think I paid you guys back enough. Come back to Marietta soon and I'll treat you all to dinner.
Also thank you for ironing my shirts, Erin. <3
And Brianna totally loved me. What can I say? I'm pretty awesome with kids. I really look forward to the day when I get to be a father.
On Sunday we came back and met up with Adam and Thomas, which was so weird. While Marc sadly missed the dinner we had, it was still kinda surreal. The four of us eating out together, riding in the same car... I dunno. It was cool. I miss that.
Anyway, that was Christmas. I will LJ-cut the haul.
( Read more... )
|
|
Comments: Read 2 or Add Your Own.
|
|
Friday, December 25th, 2009
|
|
|
Merry Christmas, gang who reads my little journal. I just wanted to make a brief post and and let you all know that I hope you're having a rather happy holiday and that the time after it is even better.
My day has actually been pretty terrible, but I won't burden you with the details, and I do have hope the rest of the day will go much smoother! In all, happy Christmas.
See ya next year! :)
|
|
Comments: Add Your Own.
|
|
Sunday, December 20th, 2009
|
|
|
So a few days ago I was asked by my mother if I wanted to go to a family get-together for Christmas. Normally my family (mom's side) has Christmas dinner or something a week before, just to get together and whatnot. I often opt not to go, just because it's really boring.
I mean, it's not like I dislike my mom's side of the family. They're good folks. Really, though, I have absolutely nothing in common with them. If I hung out with the older men we'd be watching a football game I care nothing about. If I hung out with the older women I'd be just sitting there, listening to their awful gossip. The ones my age, my cousins and whatnot, are all bringing their wives and their own kids, which is not a scene I'm a part of, I guess. The younger kids are cool, but they're now fewer than ever before.
Really, the main attraction of such a gathering is normally the home-cooked meal. However, this has fallen by the wayside in recent years. Last year they just went to a Mexican restaurant. This year they're apparently just ordering a Subway party tray. How festive!
So I could spend 5-7 hours sitting in a small house silently being bored or I could stay at home and find something to do (was probably gonna hang out with Adam tonight). I decided upon the latter choice... and then my mom gets pissed off. Like my presence there is going to have any effect on her time spent with her sisters. I so rarely go anyway, I'm not sure why this year matters so much. In an effort to make her happy, I'd even decided to go, but then she got upset and stormed out the door.
I don't mean to make myself a black sheep or anything, and I know how my mom is. She'll immediately go and talk about me behind my back there. If I was there she'd say unkind things too, but now it'll be all about how I don't want to be with the family, etc. etc. etc. It's ridiculous.
I don't think Christmas is an event where I need to put on a show or make a cameo appearance. It's about having a good time, and I don't think I would've had a very good time there. I dunno, it's lame, I guess.
Also: January will be the best month ever.
|
|
Comments: Read 6 or Add Your Own.
|
|
Wednesday, December 16th, 2009
|
|
|
That last story is a bit big that I should have cut it, but I feel like nobody reads it when I cut them, and I really like it. I've had that idea in my head for about three years now, and could probably find the radio play script I wrote for it on my old PC.
Anyway, I told Erin I would make a Christmas list, which is a bit tough because there's not a lot I need/want that I haven't just bought for myself. So lemme think:
- iPod accessories. My iPod is a used one, a 30 Gig Classic Video. So I could use a case/protective screen. I could also use a wall charger if you're into that kinda thing, though the case is more of a necessity. ifrogz.com has a pretty cool custom feature for cheap that can make a swell Captain America-esque design.
- Movies are always fun. I wouldn't mind a copy of Dark Knight, Iron Man, Wolverine, or Inglorious Basterds (2-disc please). I'm still trying to get Justice League/Justice League Unlimited on DVD, too, but those are hard to find. I am such a dork.
- I could use another Wii controller, I guess. Do they sell them with the Motion+? That would be neat. Another Xbox 360 Rock Band guitar or mic would be cool, too - as it stands, I can still only make a three-piece. Or perhaps a Play-And-Charge Kit?
- Make something original! Paint me! Sculpt me! Paper mache me! Something ridiculous!
- Honestly, though, gift cards are fine. It's all gravy.
|
|
Comments: Add Your Own.
|
|
|
Joyce and I arrived at 8:00 sharp. As we knocked on the door, Mark and Grant let us in with a warm smile and a handshake. The cottage was decorated for the holiday and warmed up via freshly cut firewood. The crackling embers brightened the room, and illuminated the eight chairs that were set up in a circle in the den.
There were normally six of us, as there had been since we found Grant in 2002. We gathered here each year, in this cabin in Colorado, to share our lives and experiences: Joyce, Mark, Grant, Nicole, Yuri, and I, George. Karen was a new addition, and this would be her first year with our group. Nicole had found her in some chat room online and found she was like us.
The six, now seven, of us were... are, I guess... different from most people.
"Where's Yuri?" I asked.
"His flight is running late," Grant replied, "I think he'll be here within the hour. He was coming in from Moscow."
I nodded and happily accepted a glass of cider from Nicole. Mark motioned for us to take our seats in the circle, and we did so without hesitation.
"So, well," Mark stuttered, "since we have a new addition this year, I thought it might be best to... share? We haven't really done that since we found Grant. Anyone object?"
There was a silence. We loved to tell our stories, how varied and different they were. However, it was also one of the hardest parts of our lives. It was hard to live with what we'd experienced and lost.
"I guess I could start," Joyce replied, raising her hand sheepishly. Joyce and I had met at the very first meet-up here, and over the years we'd found our attraction growing. When you have something so strong and intense in common with someone, like I do with Joyce, and everyone else here... it's hard not want to spend the rest of your life with them, you know?
"I was eight years old," she began, "wearing a green knit cap kinda like this one. I grew up in New Hampshire, so, I mean, it's not like snowy days like this one were out of the ordinary. I loved playing in the snow. Making snow angels, igloos, all that stuff. That was me.
"But I guess the problem was it was just me. I didn't really... have a lot of friends, I guess. So then, one day... there he was. Out of the snow he showed up, smiling and happy like we've all seen, you know? He touched my shoulder and I looked up and smiled right back at him. It was so cold, but I'd never felt so warm.
"Just one day was all I had, just like all of us. We had snowball fights, and man was he good at those. Heh. Then, the next day he was just... gone. He taught me how to have fun and be happy, and I'm so thankful for that."
I grabbed Joyce's trembling hand as she shot me a teary-eyed smile. Grant raised his own.
"I'd like to go," he said, "I grew up in Savannah, Georgia, so we didn't really get as much snow as Joyce. It was pretty hot, even in the dead of winter. I was maybe six years old, and I just remember dreaming and wishing for snow. Just one day for that magical white sheet that would blanket the land.
"Then I woke up, Christmas Day no less. There it was. The proverbial winter wonderland; a White Christmas. I walked out the door, my unused winter clothes firmly contouring to my movements, and there he was. Watching and waiting, he leaned against the side of my house. He motioned towards the snowy expanse before me, as if to say, 'you're welcome.' I played all day in the snow. It never snowed again in Savannah."
We nodded and smiled and even laughed. All our stories were similar. The magic of the season and the man who arrived and showed us all what happiness lay inside us. It was what brought us together, our encounters with that man. Karen, the new girl, shyly raised her hand. I noticed finally that she wasn't smiling, and perhaps, hadn't smiled at all the entire time. She'd been quiet and shy. She was a mousy, bookish girl and kept her arms held firmly across her chest.
"I want to talk a bit," Karen said, "and... I don't understand how you can all still love him."
There was a pause. You could hear our hearts beating. He'd taught us love. How dare she!
"I met him when I was nine," she continued, "my friends and I, we found him... made him, really, you know? He appeared in front of us and, my God, I've never had a better day. He marched around and sang and danced and never had I experienced such joy. He could laugh and play just like the rest of us.
"We marched all around the town, and I didn't want it to end. Lots of stuff happened that day, good and bad, but then, the sun came up, and he said he had to go. He told me he didn't want me to worry, and the one day, he'd be back again."
I didn't know how to respond, and apparently neither did anyone else. Karen's voice sounded so bitter and spiteful, like she was mad at him, or even at us.
"He said he'd be back on Christmas Day," she sighed, scowling, "he said he'd be back, but he never was. I never saw him again. He promised me, though. He promised and he lied. How can you all love this man if he lied to you!?"
Karen stood up, addressing us all with anger.
"How can you revere him so? He gave you happiness, showed you what you could be, and then he left you, just like he did me! He left you empty, he took away what you had! Imagine falling in and out of love once and never being able to again. That's what it's like! He lied! He lied!"
Karen sat back down, burying her hands in her gloves. Her blond hair hung down around her head, but couldn't mask the sobs that came from her muzzled face. We sat in uncomfortable silence, thanking our lucky stars when the knock came from the door. Mark got up to grab it.
"Hello, friends," came Yuri's voice from the door, his accent still as heavy as the last time I'd heard it, "it is good to see you all well, though... I must admit, I'd imagined more reverie coming from here! That is no bother, though. No bother! I bring great gift for you all!"
I turned to the door and saw him standing with a large, black object in his hand. I recognized it immediately.
"Where-?" I gasped.
"A man in Volgograd," Yuri answered, smiling behind his bushy brown beard, "he'd found his child with it five years ago. It was why we'd not heard of more sightings, you see! He'd kept it away from the children. Come, I have already made him outside! Come!"
I rushed to the door, grabbing Joyce's scarf for her as she ran before me. We stood outside in the Colorado snow, beholding the reason we met each year on Christmas.
"Oh boy!" he said, smiling at us, as we stood, frozen as he should be, "all of you... here together? Why, 'cause of me? Gosh, that's swell. What a neat thing to happen to a nice guy like me."
He sauntered, tipping his hat to each of us as we watched him, most of for the first time in decades. Karen stood, shivering. She sneezed into her tear-filled gloves and wiped her nose.
"Karen, are you cold?" he asked her, "Now that's a silly question. You wouldn't be sneezing if you weren't cold, would you?"
"You-" she stuttered, shivering, "you remember my name?"
"Well, of course I do!" he laughed, "I remember all of you! Markie and Georgie and Joyce and Nicole and Karen and Yuri - gosh I had to travel far for you, Yuri - and little Grant. Little Grant, wishing for snow. How could I forget you guys? You obviously didn't forget me!"
"But..." Karen spoke up once more, "where... where did you go? You promised to come back. You p-promised..."
"Well, gosh, Karen, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I guess, see, what I do is I go around and I make children like you and everyone here... I like to make the kids happy, right? But I'm back today! I'm back, and it's even Christmas Day!"
"It is..." Karen choked out, "God, it really is."
He hugged her tightly and we all joined in, holding each other tightly. We knew this would be the last time we'd see him. He was right. He was meant to do what he did for us, but with a new generation. With our own kids. He needed to help them laugh and play and learn what happiness is. We were just afraid of letting go.
"Oh gee," he smiled, breaking the hug, "you all are so warm and so kind, I'm liable to melt! And when I start to melt, I get all wishy-washy."
We laughed and watched him step back a bit.
"You kids know," he smiled, though we could see the sadness in his big round face, "you kids know I love you, right? I'm so happy for what you guys have given me."
"Ditto," Joyce laughed through tears. He turned back to us and waved as he stepped back into the snowstorm. We waved back as he vanished, saying the only words the needed to be said.
"Goodbye, Frosty."
"So..." I asked, "what now?"
"Well," Yuri replied, "now I am wanting to partake of the warm fireplace you have all made! Come! There are still stories to tell, I think. I am loving a good story!"
We followed Yuri back inside, and I held tightly to my wife. Our group would meet again for years and years afterward. We didn't just have that magic man from our past in common. We weren't just brought together by that old silk hat we'd found. We were friends. We were family.
I suppose it all started with the snow. You see, it was a very special kind of snow. A snow that made the happy happier, and the giddy even giddier. A snow that'd make a homecoming homier, and natural enemies, friends, natural. For it was the first snow of the season. And as any child can tell you, there's a certain magic that comes with the very first snow, especially when it falls on the day before Christmas. For when the first snow is also a Christmas snow...
Well, something wonderful is bound to happen.
|
|
Comments: Add Your Own.
|
|
Tuesday, December 15th, 2009
|
|
|
"Roy, grab my hand," Eric said, pulling his friend up from the crumbling abyss below, "you okay?"
"Fine, I guess," Roy replied, dusting off his green Starter jacket, "man, I figured we were safe. Keep walking."
The two men, grizzled and dirty, made their way through downtown Los Angeles as the sootstorm showered them with ash. Eric had been a television reporter prior to the Cataclysm, and his sense of adventure and curiosity had not been stifled by the destruction of civilization. Roy had been his best friend since grade school, but the time for spitballs and flag football had long since passed them by. Roy was afraid of the great unknown they were entering head on, but hesitated to tell the last friend he had on Earth anything of the sort.
"So what's the plan today, Eric?" Roy asked.
"Staples Center," Eric replied, "it's probably the biggest quake-proof building in the city. The outside was mostly glass, so getting in is probably no problem, and the inside... well, we'll see what we find, eh?"
Eric pulled down his hood and pulled the binoculars from his beard. Standing on the wreckage of a nearby office building, he looked into the distance.
"What do you see?" Roy asked, "people, maybe?"
"Not people," Eric sighed, stepping back from his easily visible perch, "not people at all."
Roy knew what that meant. Morlocks. They'd taken their name from H.G. Wells, and like the fictional future species, were once human themselves. The Cataclysm did something to them, however. Whether it was radiation, cosmic activity, plague, or just mass insanity, no one knew the true cause of the Morlocks' existence. They just were - feral people who feasted on the bone marrow of still-living humans. Bloody, feudal, and skilled in the bestial arts civilized man had long since put behind him. In their first encounter with Morlocks, Roy had seen them eat a baby raw.
"Did they see you?" Roy asked, "you think... from that far away? You think they saw you?"
"Can't tell," Eric responded, "if we wait to find out, it'll be too late. We gotta get out of here. But..."
Roy knew what "but..." meant. He didn't like what it meant, but he knew it.
"You can't be serious," Roy urged, "you were right the first time! We need to move!"
"Saw more Morlocks than I'd ever seen over near Staples," Eric muttered, seemingly to himself, "seen more and more of 'em on the trip from Marin. Seemed to increase as we headed South. This might be the epicenter of everything, Roy. We might be on the verge of answering a question that has plagued humanity since its downfall."
"It could be our downfall, Eric. Those things will kills us, rape us, and eat us, and not necessarily in that order!"
There was a bit of silence between the two, followed promptly by Eric pulling his red hood back over his head.
"Take the binoculars. Watch me. I'm going for the Staples Center. If you see anything get me... run. Run away. If not, I'll be back in an hour."
Roy nodded his head and grabbed the binoculars with shaking hands. Eric, meanwhile, stayed low and made his way around the rubble of former buildings where people made their livings and their homes. He was still in awe of the destruction of life on Earth - that the world had ended, and he was around to see it and experience it. It was a terrible time, and a terribly intriguing time.
It was also a terrible time to be alone. The blow from behind came swiftly, and Eric's world went black.
When he awoke, he saw a room of flesh and metal. Hooks and chains hung from the ceiling, covered in all manner of viscera. Eric found himself pinned to a wall, hanging by his wrists. However, he was whole. He was alive.
Roy's body, next to him, was not in the same shape. His abdomen had been ripped open and his entrails had fallen to the floor in front of him. His green Starter jacket had turned red. Eric fought back the urge to vomit.
"Man," came a low, gruff voice from the other side of the room, "the dead thing called you Eric. Are you an Eric?"
Eric couldn't stop crying. Why couldn't he stop crying?
"Y-yes..." he growled, "I'm Eric. You?"
"I am Morlock," the man, short and muscular with armor of human bones, laughed heartily, "all of us here, we are all Morlock. You are trespassing on the home of the Cataclysm."
"The home...?" Eric wondered, "what happened? Do you know the cause? What do you know?!"
The short Morlock laughed and snorted. He pulled a bloody, comically large butcher knife from behind his fur pelt. He brushed it against his dirt and gore-covered tongue.
"Do you really want to know?" he asked, "do you really want to know what happened to your people? Your friend, here? Do you really want to know?"
"Yes," Eric replied, shaking, "yes..."
The brute moved in closer, literally breathing into Eric's ear, his sweat dripping onto his face.
"Eric..." he whispered, "are you scared?"
"Y-yes..." Eric whispered back.
There was a tense silence as the Morlock moved back and tipped the knife against Eric's jaw. He smiled, threatening to push it into his skull without even a word. Then, he said the words he never thought he'd hear.
"Scared?" the Morlock laughed, "well, Eric... you shouldn't be."
"You're on Scare Tactics."
The lawsuits about the SyFy Channel show's wanton destruction and murder for the sake of just one segment of Scare Tactics was debated in the courts for decades, and went undecided up until a true cataclysm erupted and mankind was truly erased from the Earth.
The few surviving humans lived on in solidarity, fruitlessly trying to rebuild a species despite their ruined reproductive systems. These people, true survivors, had seen the world destroyed and everyone they knew had died. Their remaining lives were filled with sadness, depression, and eventually they ran out of things to smile about.
But SyFy Channel having someone eat a live baby just to scare someone on a hidden camera show? They thought that was hilarious!
|
|
Comments: Read 1 or Add Your Own.
|
|
|
I felt kinda bad making the post that I made last night. Admittedly, I had a horrible night, but, Marc, it was your night, and I hate to take anything away from that. Let's get together soon and discuss how life is different now that you have a degree! You're like a whole new person, man. Transformer sounds happened and now you're a car.
Now back to my life, and speaking of cars, my car was merely scratched in the accident last night.
My neck hurts pretty badly, though. I'm sure it'll go away in a few days.
It's been a few weeks since Thanksgiving, and it's really kinda just hitting me how bummed I am about failing to get that trip together. I feel like it was mostly my fault, but what can ya do? I'm tired of the same day-in-day-out I've got going on. I want to go to Alaska. Or Chicago. Or New York. Or anywhere, really. Who's in? Yes, I'm serious.
My grades came in and I did a lot better than expected, especially in my rather devious science class. Two A's and two B's for the semester, bringing my GPA back into range to regain my scholarship. However, I still have to complete 30 credit hours before they'll review my status again, so... lame.
Next semester I'm going to start working my way into the English Education program by taking the first two EDUC classes. One of them requires a background check, which comes out of my pocket. I guess I understand it, but jeez, it's not like I pay ENOUGH fees for this school!
I miss a lot of you guys. I've never been the initiator of a conversation, and apparently neither is anyone else, and I never IM anyone with an away message up, so I just don't even sign onto AIM anymore unless I need to. I want to rectify that. Let's talk. Let's iParty. Let's do jumping jacks and strap rockets to our backs. Let's dance the night away.
Marc, Joe/Erin: What do you guys want for Christmas? I still don't know. I buy most stuff online so last-minute stuff like this isn't helping. :(
Those of you who are online, I love you dearly, but your gift is already here! It's two posts down and it's called "The Last Christmas!"
Okay, now to pretend to work! Goodbye!
|
|
Comments: Read 5 or Add Your Own.
|
|
Monday, December 14th, 2009
|
|
|
So what sucked tonight?
- Driving to Georgia Dome. Rainy, foggy... REALLY foggy. Like, Silent Hill foggy.
- As I sat in a turn lane, this lady rammed into the back of my car. As I was running late for Marc's graduation, I tried to get us pulled out of the street ASAP so we could exchange info and I could be on my way.
- The first place I pulled over, I was immediately accosted by a bum. He proceeded to half-heartedly wash my windshield and ask for money. When I told him I didn't carry cash, he called me an asshole. NO, fuck you! You're an asshole!
- Parking was hellish. Not unexpected, however.
- As I've been without my phone for almost three weeks now, I had no way of finding Marc or his family. So I just found an empty-ish place in the bleachers in front of a big white sign in the hope that I would stand out. I did not.
- I sat through the ceremony and walked from one end of the Dome to the other three times, through MASSIVE crowds of people, hoping to find someone I recognized. I did not.
- I sat in the parking lot for literally an hour as people couldn't figure out how parking lots fucking worked.
So I dunno. Shitty night and I might as well have not gone. Nonetheless, congrats, Marc. Today's the first day of the rest of your life, buddy.
|
|
Comments: Read 2 or Add Your Own.
|
|
|
Last night I attended a rather enjoyable piano concert. There were sixteen pianists on six pianos, two keyboards, and an organ. They played a lot of Christmas arrangements and did some pretty impressive musical chairs between pieces. Afterward, I ate dinner with some of Adam's friends from his church and chillaxed at some girl's house playing games.
I'm a bit awkward at religious places and when interacting with religious proceedings. It's not that I'm anti-religion or anything. I love religion! It's awesome! I just don't really consider myself very religious in the same way they are (I think my beliefs are very personal and ill-defined, which is how I like them). I'm instantly reminded of saying grace at the Jolly Roger during AX 2005. It's not part of my culture or upbringing, though I certainly respect the rights of others to practice, but I always have this slight, awkward pause where I'm grabbing my fork and others are bowing to say grace.
Still, they're cool people. I just wonder what they'd think if I didn't just silently go along with everything.
I also went to a birthday party a few days ago. Most of the people were drinking. I had a bar of soap (long story). I can blend well with most people, but I think it's a matter of fitting in. It sucks when you think you've found a place to fit and then that place seems to pass you by.
I am also going to attend Marc's graduation today. He was the first and the best of us. Godspeed, Marcus Testman.
And finally, it's crunch time. Two weeks before the end of the month, and I don't think anyone's gonna want to live in my house. Blarrggghhh.
|
|
Comments: Add Your Own.
|
|
Sunday, December 13th, 2009
|
|
|
So when my Xbox red-ringed a few weeks ago, I bought a new one and decided to sell the broken one online. Well, I sent it out a little over two weeks ago, and apparently the thing hasn't arrived yet. I was given a P.O. Box to send it to, and thus had to send it via USPS, and thus I didn't get a tracking number or insurance.
So yeah, it hasn't arrived yet. I'm not sure what I can do if this has been lost in the mail. Is there something I can do? Should I refund the guy, ensuring that essentially I'm just out on both the Xbox and the money I spent on shipping? What do I do?
Also, why haven't you guys listened to/commented on my Christmas album, dammit?
|
|
Comments: Read 4 or Add Your Own.
|
|
Friday, December 11th, 2009
|
|
Thursday, December 10th, 2009
|
|
|
I was actually going to write an entry about a debate I'd recently had regarding the existence of white privilege and racial reparations in America, but I figured, since my next entry will most likely be filled with music, I'd keep the fare light for today.
That said, here is a list of five things I've found awesome as of late:
MSPaint Adventures - Homestuck Edition: Andrew Hussie presents a semi-choose your own adventure type webcomic that incorporates crude drawings, flash animations, really cool music, and a weirdly deep mythology. It tells the story of three kids, IM buddies, who all try the beta for a new game called SBURB. Eventually, they find the game is having an effect on their reality, and everything goes to Hell. It's a lot of fun and reading it from the beginning is neat.
Gun Show: A webcomic I may have plugged before, but I'm not sure. Done by the always awesome KC Green, it's something new all the time. Read it from the beginning as well. Unlike Homestuck, it's not a continuing story, but it is continually hilarious.
Xbox Live: This link doesn't really take you anywhere cool. It's just neat that lots of cool people are finally coming around and getting Live. Played with Cody just the other night (get a good game man let's ram cars into eachother in Liberty City) and both Marc and Joe simultaneously in 1 vs. 100. Good stuff.
Taco Bell: I try not to eat much in the way of fast food, but the Cheesy Gordita Crunch is incredible. That's all I have to say about that.
This next one is long, like an entry within an entry, so let's LJ-Cut this:
( Marvel Comics )
|
|
Comments: Read 3 or Add Your Own.
|
|
Friday, December 4th, 2009
|
|
|
I recently deleted a lot of email that was in the inbox of my old Yahoo email account. I had around 5500 emails in there, a lot of which were replies to LiveJournal entries, and now I'm down to under 500. This is nice, as I can now go through them and find the real gems. There are a lot of neat things. I found a script I wrote and had sent to McCorvic that I thought was lost in a hard drive crash.
A lot of scripts are in here, my own and others. Correspondence that was funny. Stuff that can't be replicated. However, behind this cut, you will find emails I thought were at least notable enough to share with you. Emails that are lame, mushy, horrifying, or of a more personal nature are omitted. Enjoy!
( BLARGH )
|
|
Comments: Read 3 or Add Your Own.
|
|
Thursday, December 3rd, 2009
|
|
|
Science Experiment #1
SCIENCE EXPERIMENT CASE FILE #2: DOBIE GILLS
PROBLEM: As mankind continuously threatens the biosphere with pollution, deforestation, and urban sprawl, the Earth itself seems to rescind the gifts given to us, including the air we breathe. If all the forests die, we will have no air to breathe and from there death is probably inevitable.
HYPOTHESIS: People should be able to breathe underwater.
SUMMARY: As air is the most precious of our natural resources and water is the second most precious of our natural resources, I thought it would be prudent to eliminate one and use more of the other. In retrospect, though I have already completed my experiments, I realize that this would only deplete our water supplies quicker... however, that is neither here nor there.
If man were able to live as the fish, able to process the oxygen contained within water and use it to keep themselves alive. A few different methods immediately came to mind when thinking about this situation, and thus I have attempted them all in order to prove my hypothesis.
I once more gathered subjects via Craigslist and paid most of them handsomely for their services.
EXPERIMENTATION RESULTS
- The first experiment was rather rudimentary and, again in retrospect, had no chance of success. Yet, we will consider it control for this exercise. I took the torso of a properly anesthetized subject and sawed it in two. Using twine and a sewing needle, I attached the bottom half of a large fish I'd bought from a fisherman in Maine. Sadly, not only did the subject NOT breathe underwater, he did not breathe at all. This is because he died instantly. I like to think that, while this was all done in the name of science, I've at least learned my lesson there (NOTE: See EXPERIMENT #78: EXERCISES IN MERMEN, EXPERIMENT #124: HALF-MAN, HALF-FISH AND OLYMPIC SWIMMING VIABILITY, and EXPERIMENT #310: SEWING ANIMAL PARTS ONTO PEOPLE AND SEEING WHAT HAPPENS).
- The second experiment took a few tries to complete. I attempted to create gills in a human subject. The first attempt (cutting three slits onto both sides of the subject's throat) ended in failure similar to the first experiment. I then attempted to quickly insert the gills of various aquatic specimens into the slits onto a second subject's throat, but this, too, ended in disaster. I have decided that combining animal parts with living humans does not seem to work (NOTE TO SELF: Research this further in future experiments).
- The third experiment was, I like to think, a bit more successful than the others. The main gist of this exercise was to alter the lungs of the subject actually process water rather than oxygen. Doing this required intense invasive surgery that lasted upwards of three days (NOT TO SELF: Thank Art at Arthur's Anesthetic for all his help). Finally, I found that I actually succeeded in allowing the subject to subsist on water for his oxygenation processes. I thought that, perhaps, this would be my breakthrough. Alas, Subject S-39 was, ever afterward, unable to live on the land, and thus was banished to a lonely, yet exciting existence beneath the waves of the Pacific Ocean. I wish Subject S-39 well in his travails and hope that, perhaps, he can find the peace that I know in my heart of hearts will elude him until his sweet, sweet demise.
CONCLUSION: Sadly, I must admit that, while it is, indeed, possible for a human being to be able to process water like an aquatic creature, it is not possible for it or any creature to exist on both land and sea(See EXPERIMENT #872: AMPHIBIANS - WHAT THE HELL ARE THESE I HAVE NEVER HEARD OF THEM). I cannot, thus, consider this experiment a failure, but I can consider the original problem left unsolved.
As a firm supporter of the environment, I wish the mankind would realize the err of its ways. Soon, the skies will burn red with fire and all of us will be forcefully banished to the waves whether we like it or not. Perhaps then we will be ready.
Perhaps then we will be ready to live as mermen (See DREAM DIARY ENTRY #1123: I AM A MERMAID PRINCESS).
END EXPERIMENT REPORT
|
|
Comments: Read 1 or Add Your Own.
|
|
Monday, November 30th, 2009
|
|
|
Thirty days of my life and thoughts on it have been recorded consecutively in this journal. If we're looking at non-consecutive chronicling, then this coming February I'll have been writing for around eight years, I think. Eight years you guys haven been skimming my ridiculous blog.
Eight years ago I typed the title "Matt Cruea's Journal of Fun and Adventure," called my friend's page "Matt Cruea's Friends Are Inferior To Him," selected exactly zero interests in my profile, and selected the most bland and generic style available. For eight years I've written about my existence and at least some of you have been along for the ride the entire time.
When I first began blogging, a term that I really hate using but it is what it is, I was a Junior in high school, my father had just passed away, and I was just getting the internet at home for the first time. Since then, I've written a grand total 1,187 entries, 24 short stories (well, a few more, but I didn't count a some), and been friends with 195 other accounts. I've made entries in at least 15 different locations. I've sang songs, improvised stories, and given an account of a day trapped in a video store, all via voice post.
I've made public entries with funny links and posted AIM conversations about luchador tag teams. I've made friends only entries asking for help in life and love and about secret trips I wish we'd gone on. I've made private entries about myself that none of you will ever read, but when I read them I feel my heart race and I remember that moment like I'd just lived it.
I've rarely kept secrets and have had, I feel, one of the most public and revealing blogs I've read or come across. I've talked about my hopes and fears and loves and hates and everything in between. I've drawn you terrible pictures and posted fanfiction about Dragonball-Dinosaur Sex.
For eight years I've written, and I like think that, perhaps, in eight more years I'll still be writing. Where will I be in 2017? Will I be married? Devastatingly alone? Thin? Crippled? In another state? Another country? Teaching? Learning? An uncle? A father?
Most of all, I think, when I make that entry in 2017, talking about how I'd spent half my life writing in this journal, I think the same thought I think when I made this and every other entry, no matter how big or small or meaningful or meaningless.
I think and I wonder...
...who will reply?
|
|
Comments: Read 5 or Add Your Own.
|
|
Sunday, November 29th, 2009
|
|
|
Funny joke. Everybody laugh.
I wonder sometimes about being taken seriously. Why, I wonder, is it something that is so hard to attain? For as long as I can remember, I've been armed with a quick wit and a well-timed joke at any given moment. I'm not sure if it's some sort of defense mechanism or something, but it's there and it is what it is.
However, when you want to do something serious, whether it's write a drama, sing a soulful song, or even tell someone you love them, I find it's hard to be taken seriousLY. Perhaps it's because comedy is easier for people to accept. A funny story might make you laugh, but a dramatic story might just make you think - and who wants to do that?
I've considered that, at this point in my life, I've already painted myself into a corner. That "the funny guy" is all I've really got. However, being 'funny' is almost a reverse-compliment. The problem with self-identifying with "funny" is that everyone is funny. Every single person on the planet worth interacting with has, at the very least, the capacity for humor (if they don't then you probably won't be interacting with them due to their unfortunate suicide).
So, then, if everyone is funny, what does it mean when your major redeeming quality is that you are funny? If you are judged by your ability to induce laughter in others, then how can you grasp that so very American ideal of individualism? Lots of funny people are also actors, or fathers, or blue collars workers. But they are funny in addition to a separate skill set. Being ONLY funny is a specialization that will, in most cases, get you nowhere.
It sucks, too, because it's not like being funny isn't nice. It's most certainly a positive aspect of my character. However, as it is a gift, it is also a curse. If you crack a joke when you want to cry, then you only cry alone. If you try to make others laugh when a problem is afoot, then you're only giving temporary care and not a solution to the problem.
Normally at the end of a paragraphed entry such as this, I would end with some sort of wacky non-sequitur (and be on the lookout tomorrow for the return of just that). However, this, appropriately enough, is a serious entry by a serious man who wonders if maybe, just maybe, it's time for a serious change.
To stop drawing pictures and start making art.
To stop singing songs and start creating music.
To stop writing stories and start living them.
Perhaps it's time to put on the suit and tie, heat up my Easy Mac, and live how the other half lives. Perhaps being funny and only that has no place in the life of an adult.
|
|
Comments: Add Your Own.
|
|
|
