Moon Dance

"All that you touch
All that you see
All that you taste
All you feel
All that you love
All that you hate
All you distrust
All you save
All that you give
All that you deal
All that you buy
Beg, borrow or steal
All you create
All you destroy
All that you do
All that you say
All that you eat
Everyone you meet
All that you slight
Everyone you fight
All that is now
All that is gone
All that's to come
And everything under the sun is in tune
But the sun is eclipsed by the moon."
Eclipse, the Dark Side of the Moon, Pink Floyd


I believe, in the most literal sense that I am a lunatic. Not mad. Not insane. Not crazy. No, I am a lunatic: affected by the moon.

Last night, I had the opportunity to walk in the dead of night. Nothing stirred as my companion and I made our solitary way on the streets. It was cold and cloudless. Wisps of fog drifted across cars, lawns, roads, houses, blanketing all in the oblivion of night. But above, the moon kept vigil over the sleeping neighborhoods. It hung in the sky, exactly as it has for thousands of years.

This was the moon that shone on Moses, on Alexander the Great, Aristotle, Plato and Socrates, on Cicero. It rejoiced with creation the night Emmanuel was born. It watched Caesar Augustus, Leonardo da Vinci, Christopher Columbus, Magellan, Shakespeare, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, E.A. Poe, Picasso, and so many others pass short existences on this planet we call home.

It has inspired dreamers and conquerors; it has guarded lovers and plotters; it has illuminated philosophers and astronomers. It is the direct connection between us and the past. We have all lived under its gaze, oblivious to the heritage it represents. From the dynasties of China to the monarchies of Africa and Europe to the democracies of today, the moon is the common denominator. Billions of people have looked upon it with wonder, awe, curiosity, and found inspiration. We are just the newest in the long line of lunatics.

If this legacy isn't overwhelming, you, my friend, are in sad shape. Frankly, the idea that the moon under which I have lived my life has seen billions of lives pass like dust fills me with awe.

Are you a lunatic? I am.

B

[insert evil laughter here]

Yesterday, my extemporaneous club met with high hopes, lofty goals, and reams of paper to file. Yup, we were going to have a filing party if it killed us. And since it had been weeks since we'd met, everyone had many, many articles to file. Alas, our productive dreams were shattered. Alright, so we did end up filing all of those pesky articles, but on the way, we made many redundant unnecessary files (...sorry :P), had many instances of context fail, and generally tried to misinterpret everything being said to the most awkward degree. I blame it all on Calvin.

During the course of the afternoon, we discovered someone *coughcoughCalvincoughcough* had an affinity for the whole Honduras politics thing going on. We also discovered that we needed a file for 'weird people' such as the Salahis, Balloon Boy, and President Obama. Said file has now been christened the stupid people file.

Some of my favorite context fails (and wins):

"I'm in favor of the Chinese method of execution: a shot to the head. " "Ah, technology!!" <--- This being said by Jedi Gerbil, who had just found the technology folder laying about in the rubble.


It just occurred to me that the rest, taken out of context, sound completely wrong. So I shall stop there for the dignity of my extemp club.

Anways, there are five speakers in club: Jedi Gerbil, Barrelfighter, Calvin, Mrs. Incredible, and your humble narrator. We decided that since there are five exposed sides on the file box, each of us will decorate one side to our hearts content. But that wasn't enough. No, we'd write our own fictional biographies. And then someone (I forget who) decided to write another persons' biography.

Imagine my glee when I was assigned to write the fictional biography of Calvin, someone I know, literally, nothing about. Mwahahaha... This is going to be fun.

Now, if you'll excuse, I must dream up a nefarious past for my extemporaneous compatriot. ;)

B

Apology

Alright. Apology. Yay! Yesterday, I posted about the song Stand Up, by Fireflight. And someone commented on it. That is not so unusual of itself, but the comment and the commenter were. It was a fairly innocuous post, saying only "hello" with about fourteen million ellipses after it. On closer inspection, however, each period linked to a different mature-content website. Yes, I have officially been spammed. The comment has since been deleted and the commenter blocked. For any of you who discovered it before I got to it, my apologies. It makes me deeply unhappy that someone decided to use my (personal) blog as a spreader of filth.

B

Introductions All Around!!

Hi. I'd like you to meet my latest plot bunny. His name is Musical Monday. His one goal in life is to talk about a song or artist that I particularly like once a week, on Monday. Everyone friendly? Good. Let the party begin.

I love Pandora.  It's a free internet radio station that you can customize. For instance, if I put the song "Nemo" into it, it will create a radio station that only plays songs similar to Nemo. You can then add more songs and groom the station to your preference. Imagine my delight when my symphonic metal radio station gave my "Stand Up" by Fireflight.

Fireflight is a Christian band that often edges into the metal side of rock. I must admit, recently I've been rather disappointed with Christian music because of its stereotypical lyrics and (even worse) its low musical artistry. I was surprised by "Stand Up" as soon as I heard it. It states that it's alright to have darker emotions as a non/Christian, a sentiment which is not usually found in CCM.

 Stand Up, by Fireflight.
"Look at all the lonely hearts
Shivering out in the dark
Hiding from the truth
Cover up the proof
Demons that I've tried to hide
Imprison me in my own lies
And all that I can do is cover up the proof
Don't be afraid to...

Stand up!
Stand up if you're broken
Stand up!
Stand up if you feel ashamed
You are not alone when you hurt this way
Stand up!
Stand up if you need love
Stand up!
This is not judgment day
You don't have to hide
There's no need to run
Everything will be okay

Secrets got me torn apart
Trying to destroy my heart
But I can see the light
It's cutting through the night
Don't run away
(Don't run away)
Don't be afraid to...

You say You love me
That's all I'll ever need
If You say I'm good enough
That's good enough for me."

[insert eyeroll here]

After much quiet contemplation, it has been determined that 'normal' compliments are boring.  I was re-reading my journal yesterday, and realized that the only ones I remember are the odd ones. Some of my favorites include:

"You're creepy cute. Like a girl from a Japanese horror film."

"You've got a face that could explode a thousand missiles." Thanks, I think.

"I love the way you talk. It's so squeaky!"

And finally, "Now I know why I keep you around: self-esteem." Glad to help, o my friend. ;)

Have you ever heard/received a weird compliment?

B

Merry Christmas!

As I write this, cries of "Look! A Large Ham!" resound through the house. It is my own dear brother carrying on a time honored tradition of hamming up the holidays. It started a few days ago, and likely will continue for a few more. I was working on a heartwarming Christmas gift post for my friends, serenaded by such hammy comments, when my email reloaded and I found an email from my friend Cassandra. Inside was a heartwarming Christmas gift for her friends. Which happened to be the same thing I've been working on. Bother.

Being the rather contrary person I am, this new development made me seriously consider not publishing this. After all, I can pride myself on *not* following trends. But then I reminded myself: I've been working on this for a couple days, so I may just as well publish it. Therefore, I present my heartwarming Christmas gift post for my friends:

In alphabetical order:

Bracie - Some days at church, I wonder if I'm not related to you. Unbiological sisters, almost. I like the sound of that.Whether it's singing "Holding out for a Hero" at the top of our voices while cleaning the sanctuary, or giggling over some new source of hilarity, or having serious discussions about capital punishment, we always seem to jive. But probably what I appreciate most about you is that you're gentle, and a lady of quality. That's a hard trait to find these days. It makes you even more beautiful because of it. Outer beauty + Inner beauty = Bracie, a dear, kindred spirit.

Cassandra - It's been said that the eyes are the window to the soul. One look at your eyes, Cassandra, and anyone can tell you have your heart in the right place. Seriously. While we've only spent much time together in the past month since Thanksgiving (:P) , I have really appreciated earning your friendship. You have a sense of humor that is mild, but funny, and your smile is always rewarding. ;)

Dory - How do you describe a problem like my Dory? With lots of Monk, caffeine, and impromptu harp caterwauling. And by the way, the caterwauling does not refer to your talent on the beautiful instrument. . It's incredible what we've gone through - from non-percolating coffee to late night Monk marathons, to mouthing off in choir. To adults, you're a sweet, gentle, kind girl, but I - I know the real you. Yes, you're sweet, gentle, and kind, but you've also got a killer sense of humor, amazing musical talent, and a certain affinity for officers. And yes, you do look like a Celtic Shield Maiden. It's on the record now. ;) Live long and prosper, my friend.

Escapist -Every once in a while, we meet people with whom it is easy to relate. You are one of them. As Cassandra put it, quite aptly, you are a "brother in Christ."  You are witty, intelligent, considerate, and pretty awesome. Not to mention imaginative. :P It's easy to talk with you, though it sometimes ranges well into goth-talk. But hey, if you didn't have goth elements, you'd be a very different person indeed. I appreciate your friendship. Thank you.

Jedi Gerbil - I've known you for the last two feet. What has it been, seven years? You were the first homeschooler I ever knew, and that's a good thing. Your sense of humor is amazingly dry, and your wit flows with such panache it's astounding. I can still remember that time we talked about cold fusion for what - 45 minutes? - just to bore our eavesdroppers. While those fun discussions were, well, fun, our serious talks have never failed to show another, more thoughtful side to you. You're a great philosopher, diplomat, and more importantly, a friend. This year, let's practice being extroverts, neh?

Keilah - Let's face it: You're gorgeous - inside and out. I have to admit, you've been a role model for me. Whenever I talk to you, you inspire me with your heart for homemaking, be it cooking, looking after your little siblings, and generally being a Proverbs 31 woman. Your gentle wit and earnest heart are evident in any area you are found, even when cooking for a bunch of 'savages' at a Productive Fellowships. I hope to know you so much better this time next year, and I look forward to continuing our friendship.

Libby - Libby, let's redeem Converse together! You are a ton of fun to be around. From teaching me the basics of football from an opposing team, to wandering the halls of the CMS, we've had some interesting times together. And, of course, the obligatory raves about Chucks. You are ingenious, always coming up with clever, creative, and imaginative ideas and topics. And your paintings really are beautifully introspective.Your art is a true reflection of yourself: introspective, clever, brilliant, and beautiful. Rock on, Libby.

NtropyNcarnate - Bonkers. Batty. Brilliant. Beautiful. Oh, and amazing, alliterative, polyglottal and precious. Melon head, es lusus naturae. Whether you plot in study hall, or run up and down hallways chasing invisible aliens, or sit and translate the Grinchus, or watch Dark Musicals with me, I enjoy every minute of it. And those cookies? Nom nom nom... Your melodramatic, musical, and memorable musings on subjects from Latin horror movies to auto care and linguistics always make my day. And I'm thankful for every minute of our Latin classes, all five years of them.

Ophelia - How exactly does one approach describing Ophelia? There's a certain dash of whimsy, a certain dash of romanticism, and a large dash of fun involved. Cartwheeling at church, having snowball fights, and discussing the relative merits of various female singers, are all memories I've shared with you. You're beautiful, inside and out. You're fun, interesting, smart, and imaginative. I've so enjoyed getting to know you this year. It seems like I've known you forever.

Peach - Peach, you're amazing. You're creative, musical, funny, and pretty awesome to be around. From downing eggnog like whiskey to "Hi, I'm Awkward" conversations, we've had some interesting times. I enjoy how easy you are to talk too, as well as your wisdom. You're beautiful, inside and out. I hope I can see more of you this upcoming year.

Pipsqueak - Pipsqueak, my dear little Hobbit, you're hilarious.You really are. You're teasable, you're lovable, you're hang-out-able, and generally, personable. You're beautiful, Asian (Ow, don't kill me!), and very fun to be around. I love hanging out with you in Biology, and I can't wait for New Year's! Your beautiful personality and smile will be the first thing anyone notices, just asl long as you don't tell them about your love of German Shepherds, leather boots, jacket, and German. Whoops. No, no the pillow! Ouch!

Qwip - I remember when I first joined NCFCA, I saw you at a National Open, and I thought "Wow, that's one of the cool people." Little did I guess that three years later, I'd count you among my close friends. You really have a passion for the ludicrous, and that makes any interactions with you quite interesting. Actually, I really enjoy conversations with you because they can quite literally swing in any direction. You're interesting, clever, considerate, and entertaining (and handsome ;P). Take your pick as to which adjective you prefer.

Specs - Ah Specs, Specs, Specs. You, my friend, are an anamoly - in the best of ways, of course. I can quite honestly say that I know no other conservative, Christian actress who is perfectly at home in front of an audience and groups of hyperactive teenaged speakers. You're someone I've known forever, though that's only been five years. You're stunningly gorgeous, inside and out, and your dry sarcasm compliments your speech. Truly your speech is seasoned with salt. I'd even go so far as to say that you are "as shrewd as a serpent, and as gentle as a dove." Got to love that, right?

Unexpected Song - You're logical, beautiful, unique, well-read, and simply lovely. Whether you're owning the Apologetics event or discussing late night gal topics, you come off as a thoughtful individual. You always provide important and interesting insights, and I value your trust and friendship. It's such a pity we don't see each other often this year, and I look forward to spending time with you this upcoming year. May the light of Heaven shine on your path.

Maybe tomorrow I'll post about what my family did. But for tonight, that's all.

~~MERRY CHRISTMAS!!~~

B

Sick

On 31 October, Seattle policeman Timothy Brenton was killed while sitting in a police car, debriefing a trainee officer. The trainee, Britt Sweeney, escaped with minor wounds to her head and back. The suspected murderer is now in custody.

On 29 November, nearly a month after Timothy Brenton's death, four officers from Lakewood, WA, were targeted in an unrelated attack. Sergeant Mark Renninger, and Officers Ronald Owens, Tina Griswold, and Greg Richards all died at the scene. Only Officer Richards was able to respond, shooting gunman Maurice Clemmons in the stomach before dying. Maurice Clemmons is now dead.

And finally, 21 December, two Sheriff deputies responded to a domestic-violence call in Pierce County. Upon entering the house, a man in the upstairs opened fire on them. They responded, but received many wounds. The man who had let the officers in, and a teenage girl barricaded themselves in a room with the deputies, called 911, and started First Aid. One deputy is in critical condition; the other, stable. The killer is dead.

In a little under 60 days, five police officers have been killed, three wounded. These killings are so surprising, in part, because Washington has not been known for violence toward law enforcers. It's sickening. Please keep the officers and their families in your prayers.

*big grin*

Haha! I was just told that I was as unpredictable as a bumblebee. It's most gratifying to know I've kept some of my pre-teen design features. =D

100 posts, wow!

As the title would suggest, this is my 100th post. I seem to have reached the second 50 far faster than I reached the first. *toddles to check records* Indee-de-dee-de-dee-de-dee-dee-dee-do! It took me nine months to get to 50 posts, and two-point-five months to accumulate the second fifty. Wow. And no, I'm not sugar happy, I'm just thinking faster than you.

Actually, I wasn't planning on gloating about my *astonishing* post record. I can happily do that for you in the comments. I was going to tell you about a song. A very important. Or not. But I like it. A lot. So you should too. Maybe. Ish. I feel an odd tingling in my brain. The coffee's affecting me. But I like it.

.. Ahem.  Anyways, about six months ago, I rediscovered a Monty Python song. Specifically, I rediscovered "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life."  For the few of you who haven't heard it, it's a very happy-go-lucky tune, even including whistling (!), with incredibly morbid lyrics. It's the best example of Lyrical Dissonance I've found in a while. The lyrics are so brilliant, it's hard to choose which verses to highlight...

Here. I think I may have found the best part.

"For life is quite absurd
And death's the final word
You must always face the curtain with a bow.
Forget about your scene - give the audience a grin
Enjoy it - it's your last chance anyhow.

So always look on the bright side of death
Just before you draw your terminal breath

Life's a piece of ****
When you look at it
Life's a laugh and death's a joke, it's true.
You'll see it's all a show
Keep 'em laughing as you go
Just remember that the last laugh is on you."

Unfortunately, there's a mild obscenity in the last (posted) chorus. :( But certainly, this song has helped shake my melodramatic, self-important mood from the summer, because, let's face it, the best teaching song is one with a catchy tune and important/interesting lyrics. 

This song, I believe, is a very good way to celebrate my 100th post. 

B, who is singing about the bright side of life, and who really needs to step away from the coffee pot.

Yesterday

"Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away. Now it seems as if they're here to stay... Oh, I believe in yesterday."

Actually, no... Wait. What am I talking about?

Yesterday, I discovered something: I have finally gained the teenagers' love of sleep. There have been countless articles, studies, and other various forms of adult-inflicted torture examining and explaining that teenagers sleep a lot because they need the sleep. However, for the first four years of my teenagish existence, I didn't really sleep any more than usual. However, since the day I turned 16, I have found myself craving the sweet touch of unconsciousness every night. Now, this may seem a weird discovery to make on a whim, so I shall explain why I finally realized this.

Yesterday morning, I was going to meet a couple friends from speech to discuss speech stuff. For this purpose, I rolled out of bed at 9:30 and trundled off to the meeting place by 10:30. Well, most of the party was there, but for the exception of lovely Lady Specs. She had had a drama rehearsal on Friday night, and her parents decided not to interfere in her sleep schedule yesterday morning. So it was that my companion and I received a call at 10:30 from Specs saying she'd "just woken up." We waited for a half hour, making un/succesful attempts at small talk, and during this interlude, I realized just how precious sleep was to me. I really do like it. So there.

After the speech meeting, which ran a half-hour late because it started a half-hour late, I toddled off to my friend NtropyNcarnate's house for some Latin translating "fun". Our text? "Quomodo Invidiosulus Nomine Grinchus Christi Natalem Abrogaverit." Yup. We got to translate "In what way our envious little friend named the Grinch stole the birth of Christ." The funny thing is that the Latin version is nothing like the original Dr. Seuss book. Well, it took Ntropy and I a full hour and a half to get through this creative Latin text - by "creative Latin" I mean giving five different nouns for "noise," and four different verbs for "sing". But after the long translating ordeal, we still had an hour for Christmas cookies!

I love decorating Christmas cookies. Just thought I'd say that. Anyways, we had quite good fun. Here's some of my favorite cookies we made:

This one was Megan's. His smile came out a little crooked, so he looks like he's sneering.

This is one of mine. I was trying for the teapot lady from Beauty and the Beast, but it kind of turned out looking like Jack from Halloween Town turned into a teapot. Or just a skullish teapot.

Also mine. *guilty*. I kind of thought he looked like whats-his-face from the Lion King. You know, the creepy monkey guy. Either that, or he's a juvenile criminal bear whose had his face censored and pixelated for privacy.

These are most of the cookies from when we were done. You can tell Ntropy's cookies because they look artistic. She did the snowman in the lower right corner; the angel  just below the center; the green and red candy cane; the tree and the bear near the green and red candy cane; the smiling bell in the top right corner, and a few others. Mine, however, are the angel of many colors, the brown candy cane on the right edge; as well as the flamey colored bell and the butterfly above the bell that looks more like a blob of red and purple sprinkles; and pretty much all of the ones that looked like a mad toddler's play station.

However, this one has to be my favorite one I made yesterday.

I am ashamed to say that I used tweezers to get this angel to resemble a vaguely humanoid thing.  Glory and wonder at its amazing goriness.

This was Ntropy's reaction to my bloody angel.  Of course, she was just in awe at my enormous creativity. She had a very funny idea of continuing the idea of gory cookies, but I have censored that part of this post for my more sensitive readers. *wink*

And then it was home for more and more schoolwork. This was accomplished with much yawning and longing for my deliciously warm, dim, room. Lovely. On the plus side, I did get a persuasive letter finished yesterday, which I might post tonight/tomorrow.

B

... Don't you just love long, boring posts about what I did yesterday? I do. :)

... And yes, I am in an exceptionally unusual state of mind. I just thought up another story thingymajig. 

Friends

These past few weeks, I've had a couple imaginary friends following me around. They're not mine - I don't recognize them, or even know their names. But for lack of better monikers, I've called these two Snuffles and Chuckles.

If you've lost a badger with a penchant for melodrama or a psycho clown, please comment below. They are starting to get annoying. But they have been useful - don't get me wrong. I started a club for imaginary friends. If your imaginary friend would like to attend, please have them comment with name, species, and temperament below, and I'll have Snuffles contact them for the first meeting.

B

Peter

 For today's post, I present you a short story I wrote recently about Peter Pan. If you have any comments on how the current ending could be improved, I'd greatly appreciate them.



When Luke woke up, he was in a clean, white place. He vaguely remembered being in a place like this. He had seen a little boy sleeping in a big bed, but he couldn’t remember when.  But this place wasn’t like the other. It was bright and cold, and Luke was alone. Luke shivered. There were no humming monsters; just cold, clean, white walls.
But then Peter came. He was dressed in green, red, yellow and orange leaves, like the ones in stories, and when he turned a somersault, Luke just knew it was Peter. He giggled at the other boy’s antics.
“Where are we, Peter?”
Peter cocked his head. “You’re right here. And I found you! Isn’t that clever?” He grimaced, and it wasn’t so cold anymore.
“But Peter, how did I get here?”
“Does it really matter? We’re going somewhere else now,” Peter said carelessly.
“Really, Peter? What is it like?” Luke moved closer, mouth open in anticipation. Peter grinned.
“Well, there are people and everyone’s happy and nobody is afraid. And it’s warm and bright, and it’s wonderful!” Peter started hopping on one foot. “Come on, let’s go!”
Luke tried imitating Peter, with little success. But before he could tumble off balance, Peter grabbed his hand, and they set off.
“Peter, tell me again!” Luke fairly danced.
As Peter expounded on their destination, the boys walked through many rooms of unchanging white. But now the rooms were replaced by a long hallway. Doors lined the walls, and in the dim lighting, they could see pictures hanging on each door. Looking back, Luke couldn’t tell which they had come through; he shivered, but Peter moved on. Trotting to keep up with the bigger boy, Luke glanced at the pictures on the wall.  They passed countless pictures, but certain ones captured Luke’s attention.
He tugged at Peter’s hand, who stopped for the younger boy. There on the wall, a beautiful woman and a smiling man looked at a fuzzy bundle held in the woman’s arms.  Luke stood, entranced, unable to look away. Peter gently moved Luke into motion, drawing him down the hall. They passed more pictures. Sometimes, the beautiful woman gazed down on the boys, and sometimes it was the smiling man. However, in all, a little boy with brown hair and green eyes chortled. There, in that one, he took his first step. Farther on, he used a tricycle. Over there, his father gives a piggy-back ride to an enthusiastic cowboy, and in another, a big black dog guards the sleeping child.
The tunnel grew dark, and intermittent lights shone on the pictures. Sometimes, the walls were dark for hundreds of paces. Peter passed them without comment, pausing only to bring Luke along when he gazed for too long. Finally, the lights went out, and only the sound of footsteps invaded the deathly quiet.
Peter felt the hand in his tremble, just slightly, and he broke into a little ditty, humming and skipping to distract his charge.
“Peter, I’m scared. Tell me again.” Luke’s clear voice broke the song. Peter glanced down, and then knelt beside the child.
“Hey Luke, you know a secret? I can do magic.” Luke’s eyes grew larger in the darkness. “Now, if you shut your eyes really tight and count to ten, a light will go on.”
Sure enough, when Luke opened his eyes, a pool of light gathered ahead, illuminating part of the wall.
Luke couldn’t get to the light quickly enough, but as he approached the edge of the puddle, he hesitated. On the wall were three photographs; no doors accompanied the pictures, and they waited, forlorn, for Luke to examine them. He looked back at Peter, who stepped into the light and nodded encouragingly. Luke cautiously approached the picture, but ran the final steps, eager to see the little boy again.
But this picture was different. A wrecked car, tumbled off the road, was barely visible in the swarm of flashing lights, and beacons lit the scene with a red glow. Cars whirred past as the little boy was wheeled into an ambulance. The smiling man stared into space, clutching the boy’s jacket in trembling hands. Firemen were dragging the beautiful, battered woman from the car, while medics readied a stretcher nearby. Luke took this in at once, and recoiled. He grabbed Peter’s hand, and tugged to go back into the darkness, willing to endure darkness rather than see the other pictures. Peter gently turned him around.
“Hey, Luke. It’s alright.” He grinned reassuringly at the small child, and whispered. “Only two others.”
Luke reluctantly turned to the second picture.
The green-eyed boy was sleeping on a bed much too big for him. His room was grey in the darkness, but Luke could see machines surrounding the bed. He touched the little boy’s face. It was half-covered by bandages, but Luke still recognized it.
Luke closed his eyes, and took a big breath. He sighed, and then looked at the picture. Little was different: The boy in the large bed still slept, but a sheet had been drawn over his head, and the lights glared down on the man and the woman. Luke’s green eyes widened as the picture began moving. A nurse entered. She started talking to the parents kneeling by the bed. They exited the room, and the nurse shut lights. Luke stared hard, and did not notice Peter step behind him, gazing at the little boy with an indescribable emotion.  As the lights in the little room shut off, the puddle of light in the hall disappeared, and the tunnel grew dark again.
Luke jumped. It suddenly was very cold. Two strong hands grabbed Luke’s shoulders. Luke could feel warmth and vitality leaking from those hands, and Peter’s voice spoke near his ear.
“Luke, we’re almost there.”
“Peter, I’m scared!” Luke’s voice trembled like a leaf.
“I know, Luke. But it’s an adventure. Now, see that light in front of you?” Sure enough, a pale glow filled the end of the hall in front of the boys. It was far away, but it was there.
“Luke, you need to walk toward that light. I’ll be behind you, but don’t turn around. You got that? I’ll be right behind you, but you mustn’t look.”
“Peter.” The little green-eyed boy pleaded with his voice. He shook.
“Shh, it’s alright. That light is the place I told you about. It’s warm and everyone’s happy there. Just like I told you.” Peter hugged Luke, wrapping him tightly in warmth. He straightened, and pushed Luke toward the light.
“Are you sure you can’t come with me, Peter?”
“No, but I’ll watch you. You won’t get lost.”
“Good bye, Peter.” Luke walked slowly toward the end of the hall, where he could see an open door, inviting him in. Quicker and quicker, his feet hit the ground. He could feel the warmth now, embracing him like a comforter. He broke into a run, pushing the door open, and disappeared inside.
~*~
Peter Pan watched as Luke entered the door, and then departed himself. Peter didn’t take many things seriously, but this was one of them. He’d been lost, once, many years ago, but no one had helped him find his way home. But Luke had found Never Neverland now, and for now, that was all that mattered.

No Fear

Two weeks was Thanksgiving. I know, pretty obvious, but some of my friends have been known to live off-planet. (Woah, my odd mood has continued another day. Great. .-.) Anyways, we had a family from speech over to celebrate with us, which was tons of fun. Because all of the kids, not including mine own dear brother, were speechies, the evening's entertainment naturally turned to giving speeches. Specifically, impromptu speeches. Being the lazy and egotistical person I am, today's post is my modified impromptu speech from that night. Read it and weep. Or not. Shutting up now...

You may or may not know this, but I participate in a competitive speech and debate association. Now, every year, before the start of the competitive season, speakers must choose which topics to write on, and which pieces of literature to interpret. A few years ago, I was considering Socrates Meets Jesus by Peter Kreeft to interpret. In the book, Socrates, after drinking the cup of hemlock in Ancient Greece, wakes up in the library at Have It University, in Camp Rich, Massachusetts.  He confronts the modern god of Progress, and along the way, tackles the quote "We have nothing to fear but fear itself," the famous quote of Franklin D. Roosevelt.

On first glance, this quote is good rhetoric. It's inspiring, uplifting, challenging. It tells fearful humans to take control, get over their fears, suck it up and do something. It says that fear is our only enemy, that fear disables us, that it controls us. It's good rhetoric, plain and simple. It's also completely wrong.

I believe there are things to be afraid of. I believe there are issues important enough to spend nights worrying over them.  And I believe that the concept of fear is not one of them.  Try telling a new mother that she should not worry about her new infant catching SIDS, or that it will hurt itself terribly. Try telling her that she shouldn't fear for her child, that she should only fear the fear within. It's ridiculous! Care for others and concern for their well-being is one of the emotions that makes us uniquely human!

And don't get me started on the corollaries. We have nothing to love but love itself! We have nothing to hate but hate itself! We have nothing to care for but caring itself! I'm sure the young bride is happy to know that the love of her future husband is irrational. Are we to only hate hate, and nothing else? Can we not hate those who threaten our loved ones? How can we only care about the concept of concern? Fear, love, hate, care - these are all glorious gifts from God, who gave us the ability to feel. To experience. To emote.  But we cannot emote towards emotions. That destroys the whole purpose of emotions. Human emotions must be expressed toward specifics, or they become animalian. Humans have the gift of expressing exactly what we emote - we fear the man who brings death to children, we love the one who protects us, we care for those around us. But fearing fear, loving love, hating hate, helping help - emoting towards undefined, abstract emotions fetters us. In effect, it destroys our ability to sympathize, empathize, save, help, and protect others.And this cannot happen.

There are things to fear, just as there are things to love. There are people to revile, just as there are people to care for. But there is no justification for fearing an abstract emotion. And because I believe that our emotions are a glorious gift, I cannot agree with Franklin D. Roosevelt's empty rhetoric when he asserted that "We have nothing to fear but fear itself."

Insincerity

I realized something a few days ago. Insincerity bothers me - not the people, at least, not really. It's the physical act of being insincere. This realization troubled me as well, because I realized that sometimes I come across as insincere. But I think I may have finally figured this out.

People lie every time they say something they don't mean. It may be something small, perhaps saying the dress looks marvelous when really it's hideous, or pretending to be a friend. It's a lie, plain and simple. Thinking one thing and saying/doing another is hypocrisy. But the hypocrisy isn't what bothers me. If I know someone is being insincere, I don't care that they've told a lie; I care that they deceived another.

Wait, wait, wait a second... Isn't telling a lie and deceiving someone the same thing? I would submit that they are two different things. When you tell a lie, people may or may not believe it. But deceiving another, masking ones' true intentions, is completely different. You've added yet another mask on top of the ones you already wear.

Yes, it's the deception that bothers me. Letting another person believe that you really are a nice person, that you care, that you're 'best friends forever', those actions affect more than just the insincere friend. Imagine what happens when the one being deceived finds out you don't really care; that you were a fair-weather "friend"; that you were just there for kicks and giggles. That's got to hurt.  It's not the lie that hurts, it's that the person would try to deceive.

The victim of insincerity may not even know what hit them. Suddenly, the best friend one could want sweeps into their lives, and it's lovely. It's the ones who really need sincerity, warmth, and friendship that are hurt by insincerity. The ones desperate for others to care who are wounded. And it's these emotionally needy people who are often the easiest to dupe of them all.

That's what bothers me: The deception. And what troubles me even more? That the capacity for such duplicity is inside every single one of us, and we don't even care.

B

Problematic's Owners Guide and Maintenance Manual

Congratulations on your purchase of the SBM model from SBM&FRIENDS. There is a lifetime guarantee on all parts included, some restrictions apply.
             
NOTE: The following instructions are for trouble-shooting purposes only. Should anything happen not specified or hinted at in the owner’s manual, contact manufacturers IMMEDIATELY.

MANUFACTURERS: Rainy City Productions, WA




TECHNICAL SPECIFICATIONS:

SBM (aka “SABAM”, “PROBLEMATIC”, ‘SAM”, “SYLVIA”)

TYPE: Human (female)

PRODUCTION RUN: 9 September, 19XX

HEIGHT: 5’5

WEIGHT: Unspecified



INSTALLATION: Due to the fragile nature of SBM, a special package tracking system is used to update you to their arrival date. Two days before, carefully inspect your house. If there are items you wouldn’t wish a psychotic sociopath to get a hold of, be sure to store them away, as SBM can and will use them.



IDENTIFYING: When the package arrives, do not be alarmed if the contents have settled. This is to be expected. To help with introductions, we have provided a positive identification system.

SBM, upon arrival, will probably say “I’m not a sociopath. I’m an artist!”

If SBM is in her SYLVIA setting, she will say “I can’t trust you to do anything alright.”

NOTE: If SBM is in the SYLVIA setting upon arrival, do not upset her.

ACCESSORIES: All your SBM&FRIENDS come with general accessories, including but not limited to make up, hydrochloric acids, and notebooks. Specific models have special accessories.


SBM:
1.    Large violin case and violin
2.    Messenger bag and writing materials
3.    Converse
4.    iPod
5.    Black cat (BUTTERCUP)
6.    Sabre
7.    Fencing boots
8.    3D Goggles




STORAGE: SBM will be fine with any accommodations you may find for her. Be certain it is not an area you mind changes to. Whatever requests she makes in the first three days are guaranteed harmless. After a few days of intense activity, SBM will have transformed her quarters into an artist’s niche. Do not disturb her during this process. When she is done, the room will be hazardous to outsiders over extended periods of time, so it is best just to leave well enough alone. If you should happen to glance inside, don’t be disturbed by the dark furnishings – it is simply SBM’s way of catalyzing her creative processes.




USER PREFERENCES: Your SBM comes with 4 interactive settings.

             
HOSTILE –  SBM will be caustically sarcastic and icy. Tirades and monologues or silence accompany. SBM will revert to HOSTILE when disturbed from an ARTSY setting.
             
FRIENDLY – Will smile and joke, depending on familiarity with near-by models.
             
MELANCHOLY – Standard setting. Expect wit, sarcasm, and disturbing and/or creepy aphorisms in this mode. SBM will produce most of her artwork in this setting.
             
PYSCHOTIC - SBM’s backup setting. Wild hilarity at nothing in particular is to be expected.

             
NOTE: SBM will revert to PYSCHOTIC if left in FRIENDLY for too long.
              SYLVIA – Rainy City Productions is not quite certain what this function does. It shows up in all SBM models, and seems to be accompanied by skinny jeans, haute couture, and an alternate ego.

UNIQUE SETTINGS: Due to the nature of her relationship with other SBM&FRIENDS models, SBM can be triggered into unique settings.

              ARSTY –   SBM can be forced into this mood by placing her in groups with KK, SPECS, and ASH models from the &FRIENDS expansion pack. SBM will oscillate between frantically talking, thinking, and creating. If no KK, SPECS, or ASH models are present, setting her iPod to the ‘soft’ playlist works with less effective results.
             
GREGARIOUS –  Any expansion model will put SBM into this setting. Tends to talk and smile more often.
             
AWESOME – SPECS, NTOPY, and THURS models or other models with similar dispositions will make SBM revert to this setting. Accompanied by much dancing to music and wishing for adventures.
                            WARNING:  Under no circumstances give SBM a weapon when she is on this setting. She is extremely dangerous. Rainy City Productions is not responsible for any damage done by such action.
             
TIRED – Any &FRIENDS model combination will change SBM is she stays around them for long, especially the QWIP model. This setting is particularly entertaining if SBM is TIRED in the midst of FRIENDLY members of the expansion pack.
             
DEPRESSED – If SBM stays in HOSTILE for long amounts of time, she will revert to DEPRESSED, or if the &FRIENDS expansion pack is suddenly removed. Owners should try to change her setting as quickly as possible.
                            NOTE: SBM will stay in this setting for long amounts of time after an ARTSY setting. This is normal, but try not to encourage her.

ROMANTIC – This setting has only been triggered once, on accident, and any attempts on the owner’s part to trigger ROMANTIC will be strongly denounced. Rainy City Productions is not responsible for any injury SBM may inflict on you after trying to change her setting to this.


OPERATING PROCEDURE: Your SBM has been programmed to fulfill many roles around the house. The roles she excels in are:

HOME DECORATOR

As you are soon to discover, SBM has an artistic streak. Give her the proper funds and equipment and she will transform your house into a haven. As long as you do nothing to seriously upset her, the result will be quite nice.

SPORTS

SBM is quite fond of sports such as soccer, track, and dancing. If you need an extra player, or are short a partner, she will be happy to help, provided no models decide to tackle her.

CHILDCARE

SBM has been certified through organizations as a babysitter complete with CPR and FIRST AID training. However, her odd sense of humor may make a more appropriate choice for older children. Rainy City Productions is not responsible for the counseling bills of any child left in her care.

MUSICIAN

While SBM is a very musical person, she views her music as deeply personal. She makes a great entertainer when she feels like it, but unless SBM volunteers to do so, any effort to make her play will be foiled.

MAITENANCE

CLEANING:

SBM is perfectly capable of cleaning herself, though she may disappear for an hour at a time and emerge from her room wearing a completely different style. Fear not. This is only part of her continuing quest to define her style.

Once every few months, you will need to take SBM to a hair stylist, as she cannot drive.

RECHARGING:

FOOD – SBM is partially vegetarian, so be certain to provide her with plenty of fruits and proteins. She will need to take supplements in the form of vitamins and specialty foods.

              NOTE: SBM is particularly fond of Nutella.

DRINK
SBM is made of 60% water, so allow healthy consumption of water and juices. Liberal amounts of caffeine are allowed when SBM needs an energy lift.

              WARNING: Whatever she may say, SBM should not have more than three (3) shots of espresso in one day. If you thought she was bad before the espresso, you have no desire to see her afterwards.

FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS:

Q. Where can I purchase the &FRIENDS extension pack?

A. Go to http://problematicraining.blogspot.com to find the expansion pack to the SBM model. It will be published shortly.

Q.  My SBM is shaking all over. Is this a problem?

A. The SBM model likely has consumed too much caffeine on an empty stomach. Either that, or she is in a hilarious mood. She’ll get over it eventually.

Q. My SBM seems to be loosing skin a lot. What’s going on?

A. SBM was manufactured with unique skin. Don’t worry, just supply her with lots of Cortizone cream.

Q. My SBM is awkward and uncoordinated. What am I doing wrong?

A. You SBM is manufactured to be awkward and uncoordinated. No harm is done unless she breaks a bone.

Q. My SBM keeps hurting her feet. What’s up?

A. That is a selling point of the SBM model.




TROUBLESHOOTING

PROBLEM: You SBM is refusing to come out of her room.

SOLUTION: Stock many action/adventure, sci-fi and fantasy books, movies, and comics outside her room. She’ll snap out of it eventually.

PROBLEM: SBM keeps taking walks in the rain. She frequently returns shivering and wet, then catches a cold.

SOLUTION: Point SBM in the direction of the nearest park with a shelter. She’ll sit and journal for the hour she’s gone, and come back considerably drier.

PROBLEM: SBM has been singing ‘Holding Out For a Hero’ for days and will not stop.

SOLUTION: SBM is suffering from wanderlust. Supply her with a credit card and she’ll find an adventure for herself. SBM will return in a few days.

PROBLEM: SBM is talking in gibberish.

SOLUTION: SBM is probably talking in techno-babble, music-babble, or Zulph. Purchase a model with similar linguistic skills and she’ll return to normal.

PROBLEM: SBM keeps wearing oddly captioned t-shirts and converse.

SOLUTION: There is no solution. This quirk is part of what makes SBM a collectable model.

WARRANTY:

Due to SBM’s fickle nature, Rainy City Productions only offers a three year guarantee. Afterwards, SBM is likely to disappear, leaving only with the promise of “You’ll hear about me soon enough.”

NOTE: On the occasion that SBM does not disappear entirely, don’t try to contact her. SBM will contact you on her own time.

FINAL NOTE:

When SBM returns, she’ll have changed for the better, but SBM will still be the same model at heart. You will receive many years of friendship from this good investment.

Stress

I do believe life is like an old-fashioned test tube. If you put the wrong combination of chemicals inside, or subject it to too many temperature oscillations, or even set it down funny, the shallow glass called sanity will break.

Adventure

I must say, the timing for today was exquisite. I was still in the throws of recklessness, wishing for an adventure, when one came to me.

Today, I went to Coop B to hang out at lunch. Things were perfectly normal, but as I walked Lady Specs to her class, we were suddenly transported through a time-vortex into a semi-dimension. We accidentally altered one part of this not-quite-alternate world, but when we found the vortex shift manipulator and pulled the psychic switch, we found nothing wrong with the world. However, when I went to find my faithful companion, NtropyNcarnate, I discovered that the alteration I had made in the semi-dimension had let the foul scum, Qwztlctoal, through into this universe. I could not find Ntropy anywhere, so I proceeded to scour the building for her, avoiding the aliens on my way.  The odd thing was, all the helpless humans could not see the Qwztlctoal at all, but they could see my duck-and-cover manovuers, leading to some hurried interviews as to "why I was being so juvenile".

Finally, I found Ntropy. She could see the devouring scourge of the universe, and agreed that something must be done before they devoured humanity. Already, students were disappearing into their magnificent gullets. And so, Ntropy and I swept through the building like avenging time travelers of doom, and saved the universe. All the thanks we got were the disapproving looks of unimaginative pre-teens, but I would do anything to save this unique race.

B

Hehehe

So today, I had a doctor's appointment. As part of my routine visit, they threw in an experimental teen survey to 'accurately assess' their patients 'medical needs.'

As a matter of necessity, utterly invasive questions were asked. I find it a matter of pride that emoticons are going to be on my medical record. Mwhahaha!

Sob!

So, I was looking through the archives of my blog recently. *sniff* And then, *sniffle* I realized that a lot of the recent posts were *sob* about my emotions. Tell me *cry*, does this look like the face of an emotional person? =',[ *hiccup* I thought not.








... Ahem. Sorry about that. I wrote the beginning of this post very, very late at night, after a long day.

Yesterday, I hitched a ride with the marvelous Miss C.M to a Team Policy tournament on the other side of the drink. I ended up staying overnight at her house prior to the tournament, and I fear I may have *haha* given her a larger dose of Problematic humor than she really wanted. Sigh.

Anyways,  while I was there, I ran into Qwipster, which was unexpected to say the least. But the way it happened reminded me of something I was meaning to post a while ago. You see, I'm very, very jumpy. And I mean very jumpy. And this is is the issue I mean to blog about today.

Yesterday, I was minding my own business, listening to a conversation, when a weird voice said my name. I turned around to see a very creepy looking person in a Santa Hat, pulled over his eyes, grinning sadistically down at me. I jumped in less time than it took for you to read the explanation. This being Qwip we're talking about, he was not content to do it just once. So later that day, when he came to return my flowpad, he did again. I jumped, internally, again. grrr.

Why do people find so much amusement in making me jump? You may recall I went on a camping trip this summer when I broke my toe. Well, most of the kids on the trip found repeated pleasure in pretending to throw things at me just to watch me flinch.  Not too pleasant after the toe incident, because I almost always feel onto the foot that was *swollen to 1.5 times its usual size.*

Oh, and then there was last year's Regional Invitational. Jedi Gerbil and I were playing spie- um, conducting top secret research in the back hallways to realize stress when out of nowhere, another debater from our state walked in on us. He didn't see our hand guns, and only heard us laughing nervously. JG and I quickly walked away, but halfway down the hall, a voice *right behind my right shoulder* asked what was so funny. Yup, it was the debater. And yes, I did scream. And there might have been a bit of falling over from the shock. Now, this particular debater told another debater about how funny it was, and five minutes later, debater two did it to me. And there was screaming. :roll:

And going a few years back, I babysat for a woman's Bible study group. Being responsible for 23 squalling infants (and not-so-infants), I tended to lose track of the older six-year-olds, who tended to go into the back yard to play.  One day, as I innocently sat, reading a book to a little two-year, a big, hairy spider attacked me. I jumped, and almost lost control of the little one, who chortled sneeringly at me as I chased down the six year who had dropped the plastic spider from the top of the stairs.

And even farther back, I fulfilled part of my contract as an annoying little sister, and annoyed my own dear brother. I don't even remember what I did, but it was pretty good for the vengeance mine own dear brother enacted on me. I had just finished reading the Lord of the Rings, and we watched the Two Towers one evening (there was a 'read it, then watch it' rule). As I sleepily got into bed at 12:30 am, I failed to notice the lump hiding in my reading corner. Mom and Dad failed to notice it too. So when they finished praying with me, etc. they filed out and turned off the lights. I closed my eyes. I could feel sleep brushing against my consciousness. I could feel hands groping around me feet. HANDS??? I sat up, and a black figure perched on my footboard started crawling towards me, whispering "We wants to wrings her filthsy little neckses" and other dire threats. I screamed. Mom turned on the light, and revealed Thursday in the act of scaring his beloved little sister half to death. Good times.

So I've got a question for my *faithful* readers. What was the funniest time you've been scared, scared someone, or seen a scaring in the act?

I look forward to reading some stories.

B

*sigh*

Some people live more in twenty years than others do in eighty. It's not the time that matters, it's the person. I'm old enough to know that a longer life isn't always a better one. In the end, you just get tired. Tired of the struggle. Tired of losing everyone that matters to you. Tired of watching everything turn to dust. If you live long enough, the only certainty left is that you end up alone. ~The Doctor, Dr. Who.

Recently, I've been wishing for my own private adventure. The yearning for stories to be true is too hard to bear sometimes. In fact, I can't tell you quite how it feels like. Imagine feeling like there's a hole inside, and knowing what will fill the hole, but being unable to do so. Or the sadness that the adventures you read about could never happen, or that there's no more room for exploration. It feels empty.

 Unfortunately, this yearning has put me in a rather odd state of mind. If you've had the misfortune of interacting with me in any way the past few days, I apologize.  I'll be depressed about the lack of adventures, Doctors, and heroes in the world for a while... Not necessarily in that order.

B

Spare your two cents?

Last week, I got a hat. It's amazing, and I would go so far as to say it is one of my favorite hats so far. I call it my Mad Hatter's Hat. This is roughly what it looks like.

Anyways, I want to wear it somewhere. I just don't know where...  Suggestions?

Good advice

Today, I had an amazing realization: There's advice on the drawstrings of my favorite sweatpants! Not only that, but it's pretty good advice at that.

How did I find this out? Well, being the immensely stereotypical homeschooler, I happened to be wearing these sweatpants during my violin practice today.  And I noticed their advice. I fully intend to follow it from now on.

1. Color outside the lines
2. Let yourself daydream
3. Agree with your imagination (Wait... what? nvm)
4. Laugh at the rules.

Thank you, I think I'll do that. And maybe the advice will show up in the next installment of my rules of living.

B

I'm it!

It's the awkward tag! 

1-Have you been asked out: Yeah, unfortunately. He was quickly sent packing.
2-Whats your middle name:  Suzanne Christiana
3-Your current relationship: Single and accounted for. In other words, buzz off.
4-What's the first thing you do when you wake up from a nap: Write down any dreams I remember
5-What is you current mood: apathetic
6-What color shirt are you wearing: Dark blue button-down with a comfortable brown sweatshirt
7-Missing something: Yeah, Ignatius
8-Current favorite quote:  "He who battles with monsters must take care lest he become a monster" - Nietszche.
9-If you could go back in time and change something what would it be: Change something? Why do that? I'd go back to the 1800s and stay there!
10-If you must be an animal for one day what would it be: I really don't care... Probably a kiwi because I've been compared to one. Or a cat. I'd make a good psycho cat. Or a koala... I could sleep all day!
11-Ever had a near death experience: Check out "Too Young", a recent post of mine
12-Something you do a lot: Play violin, procrastinate, do speech and debate stuff.
13-The song stuck in you head: Danse Macabre
14-Least favorite household chore: Vacuuming
15-Name someone with the same Birthday as you: Miss Melissa P***e, and Miss Lizzy G*****h
16-When was the last time you cried: My, my, you're inquisitive. Recently... Last week?
17-Have you ever sung in front of a large audience: Yup. Due to the extreme tenderness of my youth, I enjoyed every minute of it.
18-If you could have one super power what would it be: Invisibility. I'd totally fake my own death and see who attended the funeral. Yes, interrogator, I am lame. I know it.
19-Whats the first thing you notice about the opposite gender: What their chin looks like. This is because my eyes are at the level of the guy's chin usually.
20-What do you usually order from Starbucks: Grande Five-Pump No Water Fat Free Chai Tea Latte. Unless I'm really in need of caffeine, in which case it's a Grande Six-Pump No Water Fat Free Chai Tea latte. Or a shot of espresso
21:Whats your biggest secret: Sorry, I'm not falling for that. A lesser secret is that when a guy asks me if I'm single, I tell them I've got a boyfriend, and his name is Ignatius Martin. What I don't mention is that Ignatius Martin is the name of my violin. =D
22-Whats your favorite color: Green? Purple? Cream? Dark Brown? All of them besides neon colors?
23-Do you still watch kiddie shows or TV shows: When I babysit.
24-Whats on your walls: hats. Lots and lots of hats
25-What are you: I'm just a poor wayfaring stranger a'traveling through this world of woe. But there's no sickness, toil, or danger in that fair land to which I go.
26-Do you speak any other languages: Latin, Pig Latin, Xulph, and Pirate.
27-Whats your favorite smell: The smell of a crisp, foggy autumn night after the sky has been cleared by the rain!
28-Describe your life in one word: Esoteric
29-Have you ever kissed in the rain: No, but I have waltzed. Which is much more entertaining, and romantic. If only my partner were a little more visible... lol, not really.
30-What are you thinking about: my violin.
31-What should you be doing: entertaining our guests
32-Who was the last person that made you upset/mad: My dear, loving brother
33-How often do you talk to God: Not as much as I should, but it's improving!
34-Do you like working in the yard:  Only if I'm by my lonesome
35-If you could have any last name in the world, what would you want:  Moriarty.
36-What is your natural hair color: Ash blonde, but it's more like dirty honey in the summer
37-Do you have many friends: More than I'd expect.
38-Who is you role model: Valentine Wiggin, Katherine of Magnus, Vin, Clarisse McClellan, Alexa (Dark Hills Divide), Lady Blakenly, Lady Eileen (The Squire, His Knight, and his Lady), Lady Ophelia (Hamlet). Yeah, mystery interrogator, there's a lot of them. I'd add Eowyn to the list, but the only difference is that she's got a sword and horses but I don't.
39-Do you like your life: It has its ups and downs.
40- I am going to tag
Escapist and Qwip. Because everyone else has already done the tag.

A giving of thanks

As I sit to write this post, I'm not even certain if I will live up to its title. After all, other people have already posted about Thanksgiving, and the non-conformist in me hates trends. And the punctual person in me hates being late. So who knows how this post will turn out...

I think I may have decided to do it - take the plunge, ignore the misgivings in the back of mine mind. Alrighty, for my daily dose of sappiness, here is my Black Friday list of thanksgiving.

First of all, I'm eternally thankful that God doesn't have mood swings like I do. If He did, I'd never be sure if He'd forgive me for my trespasses. So I'm thankful that He does not have the mood swings I do. I'm also thankful for the rough year He gave me last year. He made me much wiser than I would be otherwise. Of course, there's still much, much room for improvement.

I'm thankful for my family, even when I don't get along with them as well as I should like. Thanks, Mom, for putting up with this little girl trying to grow up too soon, and Dad, thanks for all the lessons in character. And as for you, Thurs, thanks for the request. I wouldn't be here without you.

Ah, my friends, my friends. I believe I've done a few posts on this before. But now that I've got my sappiness running, I may as well devote a bit of time to them individually.Unfortunately, I'm still in a food induced haze, so if I've forgotten you, my humblest apologies.

So, in no particular order, I give you my friends. As many of them as I can remember at the moment.




It just struck me how horribly cliche that would be. Soooo.... comment and tell me if I should or shouldn't write yet another post about why I'm thankful for my friends. And don't worry, I won't think you're too interested if you do comment in the affirmative.

So, tell me.

B

MLIA

"Today, my friend dragged me to see New Moon. There were tons of 'Team Edward' and 'Team Jacob' supporters, which has to be the most pointless debate of all time. Out of nowhere, a guy dressed like the Phantom of the Opera ran through the crowds yelling "TEAM PHANTOM!" at the top of his lungs. I think he wins. MyLifeIsAverage."

Win. Pure, simple, unadulterated Win. Or Up. Or Cool. Or Awesome. Or whatever word you're using to describe the general principle. If there were "Team Phantom" t-shirts, I'd wear one. Completely.


Ponder on that for a while.
B

Haha!

It's good to know I've still got a knack for inflicting pain on myself. After the six months since I broke my toes, I was getting a little worried, not to mention the six weeks since I drew blood with plastic blocks.  So you can guess my pleasure when I proved that I am still perfectly capable of maiming myself.

I started out by taking out my knee at Costco when a carton of juice I was holding got a life of its own and attacked me.

The knee turned vicious, and during the unloading process gave out just when I was going down our concrete steps. I found my face only narrowly escaping a kiss from the ground, but on the plus side, the offending knee was punished, leaking mine very life fluid onto the ground. The palms were also roughed up in my life-or-death fight with the stairs, and they are taking vengeance even as I type.

They say that everyone has a special gifting. Mine must be hurting myself. How else can I explain this 'awkward stage' that's been ongoing for fifteen years? (You can't really count the year I was not autonomously mobile)

And there's yet another incredibly self-centered post.
B

Too young

I think it was the lateness of the hour, combined with the lack of sleep on the driver's part combined with unfamiliar roads. But whatever it was, it was unpleasant. Tonight, coming home from church, I had the (mis)fortune of seeing my life flash before mine proverbial eyes. We had to stop in a major city on our way home to drop books off at a library, and the driver was not familiar with the area.

Coming away from the library, our driver was a little stressed, and almost changed lanes into a car. This was unpleasant since the other car started about six inches in front of where I was sitting. I was looking out the window as the complex maneuver occurred and saw this car draw closer and closer to where I was sitting. The rest of the drive home, I was wishing I'd brought my personal instant teleportation device along. It's safe to say I've never been that scared. ... Yeah.

I'm never going driving without bringing the aforementioned teleportation device along. Ever.

B

Hoarse

Yesterday was a lovely little round robin. Because of my sickness this past week, I didn't expand my Original Oratory from outline form until Friday night, and it was finished at 1:30 am Saturday with cold medicine running through my veins. Since the RR was held about an hour from my house and started at 8:15, I got up at 5:30, getting only 3.5 hours of sleep.

Fortunately, we got there with half an hour to spare. Starbucks was quickly found, and the shot of espresso I ordered there helped me keep some semblance of pleasantness during the day. Alright, it was very jittery pleasantness, but nonetheless, I was not a complete troll. Peach and/or her mom got me another shot of espresso later on in the day, which was so sweet of them.

Interestingly enough, this RR ranks in the top three tournaments I've ever attended. I actually enjoyed myself - probably because I made myself socialize. In fact, I talked so much, I'm slightly hoarse, and I've got roughly five hours of church to leave for. ;)

The best part was that my club did very well - placing people in many of the categories awarded, and I'm really proud of them for it.

Anyways, it's off to church!

B

Finally

So, I'm pretty much over the fever stuff, but now I'm coming down with a cold. :( Challenging Murphy wasn't such a great idea last week. :P

Anyways, the 'long-awaited' explanation of Libby's seemingly random comment on Gummy Bear Theology.

This weekend was the Christian Musician's Summit. It was two days of amazing musical fun. From the beginning concert of Lincoln Brewster to the ending funky groove of Newworldson, I enjoyed myself quite heartily. It was an interesting format: worship/concert in the morning and sermon, then a couple of sessions, lunch, then more worship, then another session, then dinner, and finally another concert. We listened to the strains of Lincoln Brewster, Brenton Brown, Paul Baloche, Don Poythress, Matt Redman, Newworldson, Doyle Dykes, and others I can't remember.

Anyways, it was a highly successful weekend. I was able to attend a few classes on songwriting, a few on playing violin in worship contexts, and one on being a 'street musicianary' (musician = missionary).  Of the sessions I attended, my favorite was 'Anchoring Songwriting in Truth."  Brian Doerksen, the teacher to the class, has written some of the most popular worship songs (Come, Now is the time to Worship, among them). He talked about balancing truth with artistry in songwriting, which was most interesting. And of course, I attended the session on crossing genre lines, with Don Poythress. Those two combined were the best ones.

For the two days, I hung out with Libby, Ophelia, Bracie, Peach, Keilah, and a few others. Peach, Libby, and I formed the converse coalition of the group.=] And did I mention the amazing convention floor there, too?

Unfortunately, I came down with some fever/dizziness thing on Saturday, so I ended up leaving the evening concert early. It was a real pity because newworldson, the band with a 1930's beatboxing gangster as front-man had an amazing groove going.  Oh well.

If you'll excuse me, I've got a speech to write.

B

Thanks

I wasn't going to post today, since I'm still feeling fuzzy and all, but then Libby, from Random Jot Downs provided me with a ready-made post.  See, she awarded me and also gave me a tag. Glee. Now I don't have to think much, but I can still post. !

Rules:
1. Do a post about the person who awarded you, and their blog.
2. Give the award to 5 of your favorite blogs, give a reason, and leave a comment telling them they have been awarded.
3. Answer the 10 random questions.
4. Have Fun!

Libby is an amazing girl who I've only known well for about six months. She's the kind of girl you know has good, deep roots, but isn't afraid to flower for all she's worth. She's a beautiful, kind, caring girl who I hope to know better by the end of the year. : Love you, Libby!

Now, who to award?

First, I award the Inflatable Squirrel, from The Big Happy World of Confused People, because I want to see what he does with the questions. It should be amusing. :P

Second, I award Thom from logorythmia because he needs to post more often. And I'm related to him. :P

Thirdly, I award the Escapist of PainDeathLoveHateTogether and The Escapist Has Found a Home because he's cool.

Fourthly, I award Bracie from the Locket because after spending an intense two days with her at CMS,  I really want to know if she's ever ridden an elephant.


Fifth... Ophelia, from the Reluctant Dragon, because I like her. A lot. 'Nuff Said.

If I didn't tag you, sorry. I could only do 5 people.

Now, for the interesting part.
1. Have you ever ridden an elephant?
Only in my dreams

2. Have you ever eaten squid?
No, but I have eaten Octopus. It tasted like really chewy peanut butter.

3. What is something crazy you have done with your best friend?
I don't have a single "Best Friend". I've made a weird music video, sat for hours pondering idealism like a druggie, and planned to make a zombie movie in Latin.

4. Have you ever held an alligator?
Can't say I have.

5. Have you ever let a snake slither through your fingers?
Yeah. I liked the way it felt - dry and slippery at the same time.

6. What is your first and foremost dream in life?
How should I know? There are too many options.

7. What is your dream vacation?
Grand Tour of the World.

8. What is the funniest movie you have ever seen?
Charlie Chaplin's The Great Dictator... ? I don't know.

9. What is your favorite song?
Too many to count. Among the top are "So She Dances" by Josh Groban, "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life" by Monty Python,  "You Remain" written by Don Poythress,  "Dark Waltz" by Haley Westenra, and "If I ever leave this world alive" by Flogging Molly. Of course, there are so many more... :P

10. If you could change the world in one way, what would you do?
I'd make it a place where you could have adventures again. :)



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The second tag is an interesting Character Tag.
"List twelve characters from any fandom, and then answer the following questions."
1. Scout Finch (To Kill a Mockingbird)
2. Horatio Hornblower
3. Aragorn (LotR)
4. Solembum (Inheritance Cycle)
5. Auralia (Auralia's Colors)
6. Atticus (To Kill a Mockingbird)
7. Charles Schwa (The Schwa was here)
8. Agatha Heterodyne, Girl Genius (Girl Genius webcomic)
9. The Reverend Theo Fobius (Schlock Mercenary)
10. Nike Vogler (Ex Machina, my story)
11. Algernon (The Importance of Being Ernest)
12. Monk (from the TV series Monk)

1) Who would make a better college prof, 6 or 11?
Atticus. Algernon's too flakey
2) Do you think 2 is hot? How hot?
How did I know this would happen? Yeah, I'd say so. Very. It doesn't help that Ioan Gruffudd is good looking. *blush*
3) 12 sends 8 out on a mission. What is it? Does it succeed?
I don't think Monk would ever associate with Agatha... He probably tells her to go steal the Dyne of Power from the Evil Dr. Toad, and it succeeds to a certain extent, after Agatha obliterates Dr. Toad's fortress using her Sparky Kill-o-Rific blow torch. Monk is last seen neatly stacking the rubble into a rectangular prism.
4) What is or would be 9's favorite book?
Oo. That's tough. "The Religion of Survival: Pastoring in sociopathic settings"? Who knows?
5) Would it make more sense for 2 to swear fealty to 6, or the other way around?
Neither are the 'swear fealty' type. Though I suppose Horatio would accept Atticus as a commanding officer...
6) For some reason, 5 is looking for a roommate. Should (s)he share a studio apartment with 9 or 10?
Umm... 10. Nike's bookish enough to get along with Auralia
7) 2, 7, and 12 have dinner together. Where do they go, and what do they discuss?
So Horatio, Charles, and Monk walk into a bar... It sounds like a really bad joke. Charles and Monk would hit it off straight away, as Monk literally walks into Charles, distracted by a straw lampshade. Horatio is politely bored, wishing to get back to his ship, and Monk ruins the evening by getting them kicked out of the diner. It looks like Charles will be able to finish his meal in peace, until the waitress clears away the food, leaving Charles the long, hungry way back to his house.
8) 3 challenges 10 to a duel. What happens?
Nike glomps Aragorn before he has a chance to draw his sword. Aragorn is flustered by this fangirlish behavior, and quickly disentangles himself from the screams of his adoring fan. He beats a hasty retreat. Nike: 1, Aragorn: 0
9) If 1 stole 8's most precious possession, how would she/he get it back?
Agatha would turn Finch into her latest science project, trying the si vales vale procedure on an uninfected patient to see what happens. She would then feel quite sorry for doing that to a poor little girl, and would give the now-deranged Scout a lovely glass jar to spend her remaining hours in peace.
10) Suggest a title for a story in which 7 and 12 both attain what they most desire.
Charles and Monk, "Good Country for Odd Men"
11) What kind of plot device would you use if you wanted 4 and 1 to work together?
Tell Scout that Solembum is a lost kitty, and needs her help to get back home, and tell Solembum that Scout isn't too bad for a girl. :P
12) If 7 visited you for the weekend, how would you get along?
I'd probably forget him. ... :) He's the Schwa, after all
13) If you could command 3 to perform any one task or service for you, what would it be? Teach me cool Ranger stuff.
14) Does anyone on your friends list write or draw 11?
No, not that I know of.
15) If 2 had to choose sides between 4 and 5, which would it be?
If Horatio had to choose between Solembum and Auralia, I think he'd choose Auralia, because he's a gentleman and he always seems to do that.  LAME
16) What might 10 shout while charging into battle?
Nike would shout something along the lines of "What do I do now?!!??"
17) If you chose a song to represent 8, which song would you choose?
"Skullcrusher Mountian" by Jonathan Coulton
18) 1, 6, and 12 are having dim sum at a Chinese restaurant. There is only one scallion pancake left, and they all reach for it at the same time. Who gets to eat it?
Scout would grab it, being impetuous and all, but Atticus would tell her to put it back. Except that Monk won't eat it now because it's got Scout's germs all over it. Scouts eats the pancake.
19) What might be a good pick-up line for 2 to use on 10?
Horation wouldn't need to use a pick-up line... Nike's a sucker for handsome story heroes (she's an unpopular book worm after all). Just one look, and she'd be his forever.
20) What would 5 most likely be arrested for?
Auralia --- umm, making art or disturbing my mental health... pick one.
21) What is 6's secret?
He shoots a gun really well?
22) If 11 and 9 were racing to a destination, who would get there first?
Probably the Reverend because he's got a starship and a rapier...
23) If you had to walk home through a bad neighborhood late at night, would you feel safer in the company of 7 or 8?
As long as Agatha doesn't turn on me, Agatha. Otherwise, neither would be much help. On second thought, Charles would probably have some great stealth moves. :P
24) 1 and 9 reluctantly team up to save the world from the threat posed by 4's sinister secret organization. 11 volunteers to help them,but it is later discovered that s/he is actually a spy for 4. Meanwhile, 4 has kidnapped 12 in an attempt to force their surrender. Following the wise advice of 5, they seek out 3, who gives them what they need to complete their quest.
What title would you give this fic?
Scout and the Reverend against Solembum, Algernon joins them, but is Solembum's spy. Solembum kidnaps Monk, so Scout and the Rev. follow Auralia's advice and find Aragorn to thwart Solembum. I would call this "A book you never want to read."

Bleh

I owe y'all a report on what I've been doing for the past two days. I really do. But I've come down with some nasty that strongly resembles flu, and it's hard to type with this vertigo.  So I'll get back to you when I'm no longer running a fever, or feeling light-headed, or... why am I even telling you this? Great. I'm rambling. I'll stop while I'm not dead-last.
B

Gummy Bear Theology

I'm a terrible procrastinator when it comes to posting ideas.  My friend Peach and I were talking about how you can find answers about Christianity in anything. This was a month and a half ago. Today, I present for your reading enjoyment our musings on Gummy Bears and Theology.

There are four ways in which Gummy Bears exemplify teachings of Christianity. First of all, you will notice that they are transparent. We are told to be honest multiple times in the Bible,  and so, Christians should be transparent like the Gummy Bear.

Next, Gummy Bears are malleable. Like yummy Potter's Clay. Need we say more?

You will then observe that it is very easy to rip off Gummy Bears' heads. This shows that we're all mortal, and awfully easy to kill.

Finally, Gummy Bears come in so many flavors and colors - white, green, red, yellow, orange... Just like all the races of humans on this earth. The kingdom of God is not made of one nationality. It's a grab bag, just like a Gummy Bear bag.

Thanks all for reading.

Peach and B

And so she dances...

I went on a waltz yesterday. Yes, a waltz. It was raining outside (no, really?) and I just couldn't bear to study, so I went waltzing with my visibly-challenged partner, Ignatius. :)

The good part about this is that it seems to have snapped me out of it. Posting can resume as normal.

Shades of Grey

This past week, it seems like everything has gone monochrome. It's an odd feeling: I'm wide awake, yet I feel lethargic; I have friends over, and I am still lonely when they leave. *sigh*

"I've become so numb, I can't feel you there, become so tired, so much more aware. I'm becoming this; all I want to do is be more like me and be less like you."

It couldn't be summed up better. So, in an effort to spare my readers from an overload of grey posts, I'll stop posting until I snap out of it.

Until then,

B

*celebrates*

Yesterday I was able to spend time with a dear friend of mine. That we were able to make time to do so was remarkable.

First thing we did, we went to the mall. Yes, I know, we're horrible people. But anyway, we found this little Japanese dollar store in there, and decided to buy some food as an experiment. We came out of the store with a package of odd rice thingies, rice candies, and something called 'Yan Yan'.

Yan Yan, we discovered, was a package of cookie sticks and a little chocolate cream. You dip the stick in the chocolate, and eat it. Well, on each stick, there was an animal, with a caption that went along with it.

Specs had some interesting sticks:
"Cow: Muuuuuuuuuu"
"Chick: Favorite Color Yellow"
"Duck:  Go For a Swim"
'Whale: Biggesy Animal"
"Goat: You are lucky today"

For some reason, I got the weirdest captions:
"Octopus: Lucky Number, 8"
"Beetle: Favorite Color Brown"
"Bat: Only in the Night"
"Squid:  Black Ink"
And my favorite. "Stag Beetle: Love it."

Of course, we did many other things, but if I told you, I'd forfeit my blackmail material. ;)

The moral of this story? Love your stag beetles.

B

Problem Solved!

The Johari Window uses a set list of adjectives. A person is asked to describe themselves with five or six adjectives, and then that persons' friends and associates are asked to do likewise, working from the same list of adjectives.

I'd like to see what happens. http://kevan.org/johari?name=Problematic

Also, if you filled it out under my real name, the results are already shown in the window, so you needn't do it again.

B

My Jeesh

If you have read the Ender's Game series by Orson Scott Card, you know what this title means. If not, you are missing out, and I highly recommend it, unless you've got a problem with mild swears. But moving on, a jeesh. The word "Jeesh" refers to a close group of friends, trusted by the individual possessing said Jeesh. In the original context, Ender's Jeesh was a group of friends with whom Ender worked

 Sometimes I get caught up with the tragedies and comedies enacting themselves in the stage, and think that the rest of the world is in the peanut gallery, making sarcastic comments about the bad acting. The truth is closer to this: "All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players." In this particular comedy, I may be the title character, but rather than occupying the peanut gallery, my close friends and associates find themselves acting in the play with me. Because of that, I do all I can do to be the best back-up actress in their own comedies and tragedies.

I was thinking about my Jeesh.  It's quite amazing the types of people present. I've got extroverts and introverts galore. I've got courtyard and keep inhabitants; actors and acrobats; flower people and autumn folk; poets and artists and musicians; bubbly and withdrawn people. The whole thing is a little daunting to observe. I'm a little slow to warm up to people, so thinking that I've got trustworthy friends as wonderful as this is quite overwhelming.

Because I appreciate them, I'll list the names of my Jeesh. If they've got screennames, I'll be using those, if not, their initials will suffice. In alphabetical order:

Bracie - Kindred Spirit
Dory  - Fellow Romantic
Escapist - Dreamer of Dreams
Lady Knight - Co-conspirator
Lady Nessa - Cream to my Coffee
Lady Specs - Comforter
NtropyIncarnate - Dancer in the Rain
Ophelia - Fierce Damsel
Peach - Fruity Fun
Qwip  -  Cross-examiner
S.C. - Beautiful Soul
Thursday - Plotter
Toothpick  - Best. Mistake. Ever.

Thank you. It's doubtful that I'd be me without y'all. And it goes without saying that I'm always trying to add to the list. ;)

B

... had a bad day ...

It all started last night... er... this morning. I woke up early (3:00ish) remembering that I forgot a very important bit on my science assignment: my name, class date, and name of the lab. So I labeled the report, and woke up at 6:00 for Coop A. Coop A is enough to make any day bad, but it get's better. I figured out how much of a skill I've got for hurting myself: I made myself bleed from two cuts made using Molymod models in science.

After leaving Coop A early, I drove up north for an hour to talk about LD debate to a group of homeschoolers for 2 hours. And my partner didn't plan anything out, except the debate we gave. So we talked like bumbling fools for half of the two hours, and debated like bumbling fools for the rest.  It was not impressive. Worst quote of the event came from yours truly: "So these ships fire anti-tank guns at each other as they sail past and... whoops, not Anti-Tank guns. I don't know. Some big type of gun. You can tell I don't pay attention to the military. "

Then the drive home, mentally berating myself for not forcing my partner to plan ahead, and finally getting home only to realize I'm so mentally-exhausted that I'm struggling with all the homework I've got to do before bed. *sigh*

Things look grim, gentlemen!

Tee-hee

I was going through my picture archives today, and I rediscovered some 'priceless' photos of me. Being the thick-skinned person that I am (sarcasm intended), I thought it would be a capital idea to share the best of them on my blog. Because we all know how much I enjoy embarrassing myself in public.

This first one isn't really embarrassing. It's just showing off Ignatius, my violin.

However, this one is fairly unusual. It all happened when my chemistry teacher last year sent me home with hydrochloric and sulfuric acids, and I was play- um, scientifically experimenting with them. I realized that all I needed to add was the top hat and the great coat, and I'd look like a bona fide mad scientist.

This is the more dignified mad scientist. More "gentlewoman researcher" than "Phantom of the science lab."

Right before a symphony concert, in my squirrel suit.

This is me being a closet thespian with Abby. We did the tea scene from the Importance of Being Ernest. I was the whatsername from the city.

Teenage mutant ninja friends. Notice the amazing war paint on our faces.

Never fear! It's Super-Doctor here to save the world with her scientifically awesome cane!



Mhmm. I know what you're thinking. "Oh yeah, we really wanted to see pictures of Problematic goofing around with a camera." Well, tough. Build a bridge, get over it, and burn the bridge. Feel better? Good.

B