Some Small Silence

Meme from raikyaku

Sat, 01 Aug 2009 02:20:48 GMT

What's on your grocery list? I don't necessarily mean your recurring grocery list -- just what you happen to plan to buy next time you hit the store.

Hmmm. This list is a bit odd because I'm moving, so it's really what I'll get myself once I'm settling in at Kirt's.

2% milk - one gallon
Tri-color Rotini - 2 boxes
Target's unseasoned chicken strips - 1 bag
Coke Zero - 2 2 liter bottles at least
Rasins
Couscous - Parmesan or Garlic flavored, or maybe one of each
Lean Cuisine Entrees: Four cheese pizza, Chicken Club Panini, Chicken Ranch Flatbread, Butternut Squash Rotini, etc. I vary it. I take them for lunch at work.
Cinnamon Raisin Bagels
Cream cheese
Limeade (for Kirt)
Skinny Cow Vanilla and Caramel cones (like drumsticks, and really yummy, but 3 weight watchers points each)
Catfood (Indoor formula of some type)
Cat litter

Revision of Going Home

Wed, 27 May 2009 16:44:11 GMT

Here's the final revision for class. The teacher wanted more resolution.

Ella hated the purple ones. She’d come to terms with the pale green grubs, the long, slimy, pinkish brown worms, and the squiggly centipedes with their sharp, crackly legs. She even liked the soft, chewy caterpillars with their deep green skin and funny stripes, but the purple ones, the ones with the hard, crunchy shells, and wet, gooey centers, always made her gag a little. Her father said that she’d learn to like them when she got older, but she noticed the way he grimaced a little every time he bit into one of the nasty things, and had her doubts.
“Why can’t we have rabbit soup?” she said.
“You know I don’t have time to hunt for rabbits,” her father replied, picking a bit of beetle shell out of his teeth. “I think I’ve almost solved the problem with the temporal converter.” He ran a hand absently over his long, tangled hair, brushing away a flea. “And your mother… She’s gone now. Anyway, the insects give us more than adequate protein.”
Ella wasn’t sure what pro-teen was, but she knew what adequate meant, and the beetles definitely weren’t it.
“I could go hunting,” she said. “I know how to load the sling and everything. Mom showed me how.” Her mother had taught her a lot of things, really useful things, not like the math and spelling her father made her do every morning. She had shown Ella how to make a snare out of hide and brush, and which trail to set it across if you wanted to snag a fat raccoon. She had taught her not to go fishing at dawn or dusk if you didn’t want the big cats to notice, and which among the slivery, speckled fish had the tastiest flesh once you caught them. She even had begun teaching her which plants were good in stew, and which were good for a tummy ache or a fever. Ella just hadn’t learned fast enough.
Her father fixed her with an exasperated stare. “You know it’s dangerous out there, Eleanor. I can’t come with you, and you don’t know how to use the gun. What if you run into a… a bear or something?”
“Bears aren’t that bad. They only want to fight if you get too near their cubs. I’d never do that. You know I’ll be careful.”
“I know you’ll try, but there’s so much you don’t understand, and I won’t be there to help if something goes wrong.”
“I’ll only go as far as the shooting field. If I go now, I can be there and back by mid-morning, and we can have the stew for lunch.”
Her father sighed. “Assuming you catch one. Well, I suppose you are almost an adult. Your mother was planning to do that ritual of hers on you later this year.
“Maybe Aunt Narna can do it when she comes up from the river this summer. Mom said that they went through it together, so she knows how.”
“All right, go ahead. I’ll admit, some stew would be nice. But be careful, and be back well before sunset. You know it’s not safe.
“I will be! I promise, I’ll just go to the field and come right back. I’ll stay off of the deer tracks too.” Mom had always told her that the deer trails weren’t safe because the meat eaters used them too.
“Yes, yes. I suppose you’ll be fine,” he said. “Now, where did …” He wandered back into his laboratory.
As she walked out into the sunlight, Ella sighed in relief. The thick, hard walls of her father’s blocky, white home were good protection against predators and winter storms, but she liked the feel of the sun on her hair and the grass between her toes. The slick tile and rough carpet inside weren’t nearly as nice. Her father said that it wasn’t safe to walk around barefoot all the time, but his feet were pale, fragile things. Hers were dark and leathery, and they covered the ground with ease.
The shooting field was an hour’s run from home. Ella paused twice on the way, once to gather some dandelion root for roasting, and once to climb an old, gnarled oak and gather a nest of jay eggs. She broke them open, eating them as she ran. It felt good to be moving. Her father had kept her near since her mother’d come down with the spotted fever, and the large number of bugs in her diet was only one of the problems with that. Her Mom’s supply of plants and roots was almost gone, and she didn’t know how her father thought they’d get through winter if she didn’t start collecting again soon.
Every since Mom died, Father had seemed strange in the head. He spent more and more time on repairs. He’d explained to Ella that the machine was meant to take them home, that if he could just make it work, they’d go back to a place where you didn’t have to hunt for food, and where you were never cold in the winter or too hot in the summer. To Ella, it sounded like the creation stories that her grandmother had told her the one time she’d come up from the river. When she said so, he told her that those were just myths, but that he was talking about a real place.
When she asked her Mom about it, she’d said that he really had appeared out of nowhere with his strange, white house. She’d found him less than a mile from here, while she was out on a hunting trip, and taken him home to her people by the river. He’d been half starved, and sick from eating the wrong berries. She didn’t know where he’d come from, but she had grown fond of him in the tending. Slowly, she’d learned a bit of his speech, while she taught him hers. When he left, determined to go back to his cold, white house, she’d gone with him.
Sometimes Ella thought that he didn’t understand how things worked at all. Lately, he just sat there all day in his metal room, scribbling down notes and “adjusting the wiring.” When Mom was there, he’d gone out sometimes and helped gather. Ella’d liked those times, even though he was a hopeless shot with the sling, and occasionally had to be reminded which were the bad kinds of mushrooms. Maybe now he was getting better; maybe if he saw that Ella could help him, he’d want to do things again.
When she reached the field, Ella took out her mother’s worn, leather sling, and fitted it with a rounded stone. It was heavy in her hand; she hadn’t swung it in almost a month. Silently, she crept out into the tall grass of the meadow, crouching to stay out of view. She noted the splayed impression of a deer’s hoof as she crossed the path they usually followed down to the stream at the field’s far end. Further in, she saw the faint, four toed tracks that a lone weasel had left in the wet soil by a rill. About ten paces further down its bank, she found the long back prints of a rabbit in the soft, damp ground. A big one too; it should make stew enough for two meals at least.
She was about to start the slow work of tracking the rabbit to its burrow when a loud, blaring blast of sound broke the morning’s silence. She herself to the ground in an instinctive crouch, eyes scanning the horizon. She held her sling taut in her hands, ready to aim if a target came into view. Then, as the sound came again, she started to run.
“Now Eleanor, I need you to listen to me very carefully,” her father had said. She’d been smaller then, barely up to his elbow, and she remembered his big hands running back and forth across the panel as he spoke. Her hair was still standing on end from the loudness of the sound it had just made. “That was the alarm siren. If you ever hear that sound again, I want you to stop whatever you’re doing and come right back home.”
“But what if I’m washing up, or gathering wood for dinner?”
“It doesn’t matter.” He said, putting a gentle finger under her chin and raising it up so she was looking him in the eye. “Even if you’re stirring the pot for your mother, I want you to run right back here to me. The sound means we’re all going to go home, and we need to be together, inside the house when that happens. Do you understand?”
Ella had nodded, her own eyes wide and serious, and after a moment he had smiled his cautious smile and hugged her very tightly.
“There should be time,” he said, though she didn’t really think he was talking to her at all anymore. “But I can’t stop the process once it starts, and I just don’t want to chance it.”
He’d made the sound again from time to time, to practice, he said, although rarely more than once in a year. Mom never liked him making all that noise. The last time had been months and months ago, before Mom got sick. She’d been off hunting when he did it, and had sharp words for him when she came back without dinner. The noise had spooked a yearling buck that was well within her sights.
Ella ran on, startling a couple of partridge into flight. She paused a second, hesitating between the deer trail and the narrower, safer path she’d come out on. The siren sounded again, and she bolted for the deer trail.
The trail was smooth under her feet, letting her run almost as fast as she could out in the open. Her eyes scanned the woods, watching for trouble, even as her feet carried her forward. At the clearing, she threw up a hand to shield her eyes. Something, something near the house, was giving off a bright purplish light.
“Eleanor!”
Her father’s voice was coming from somewhere near the center of the light. Was he trapped? She hesitated, looking sideways into the glare, trying to catch a glimpse of him.
“Eleanor! Come here! There isn’t much time…”
He was definitely near the middle of it, and now the siren was sounding faster, barely a breath between blasts.
“Eleanor! Ella, please…”
Slowly Ella took a step forward, then another.
Her father was standing in the door, she saw, with one hand outstretched.
Another step, and the light seemed brighter now. The siren was one continuous wail, pulsing and groaning.
One final step, and she was at the threshold.
“Take my hand.”
Ella reached out blindly, eyes closed against the glare that suddenly, briefly was brighter than the sun. She stepped forward, and her hands closed on air.
Slowly Ella opened her eyes, blinking in the light of the midday sun. Where her house had been, a great square of brown earth was pressed into the field, as if something heavy had rested there for a long, long time. A fire still smoldered in the fire pit, and the outhouse stood silent watch over the far corner of the glade. A spare bit of wire, partly stripped of its red covering, lay on the ground. Nothing else remained.
It was spring again, and the shooting field was a haze of color, pale gold buttercups interspersed with soft purple clover and brilliant white daisies. Ella followed the path back to the clearing almost without a sound, her slim, leathery feet covering the ground with the confidence of long familiarity. She moved more slowly than she once had; her knees were aching a bit, the way they sometimes did when it was going to rain.
She came to the clearing just as the first drops fell, and ducked quickly into her hut. Its solid, thatched roof kept the rain off, although not as well as the roof of the strange house that once stood just opposite it. Ella sighed and began skinning her rabbit.

The first days after her father disappeared had been hard. She’d built herself a lean-to, like the ones her mother had made for long hunting trips, but it had only half kept out the rain and done nothing to keep the meat eaters away. She’d woken three or four times each night to the sound of them, and built up the fire. Each morning she’d gathered more wood, more food. Sometimes she hunted, but she didn’t like going too far. She didn’t want to miss him if he came back.
Narna had found her there, sitting by the fire and chewing on a beetle, six weeks later when she came for her summer visit.
“Ay Ella,” she said as she walked into the clearing, opening her arms for a hug, “where’s your father…” she stopped, staring at the empty space where the metal house had once been. Ella ran into her arms, trying to hold back the tears that were streaming helplessly down her face.
“Gone, he’s gone! I wasn’t fast enough. I should have come quicker, I should have…”
“Easy child. What happened? Where did he go? And how? That house must have weighed more than Nalphin rock.”
“There was light, purple light, and then he was just gone.”
Narna looked at the depression thoughtfully for a moment, and then looked at Ella. “Ella, you’re almost a woman. Tell me truly, that’s what happened? He just vanished?”
“Yes Auntie. I know it sounds… I know it sounds like a gods-story, but he was just gone.”
Narna nodded. “I think the elders need to hear about this. You need to come back with me to Slow Waters. You can’t stay here anyway, not by yourself, and I’m needed at home.”
“But what if he comes back? How will I hear the alarm if I’m days and days away?”
“That is a fair question Ella, and we’ll talk to the council and see what they make of it.”
They traveled for two weeks, following streams and small rivers downhill, until they came to the great river, the one her mother had called Rith. There they took to the water, traveling downstream by skiff for three days, until they came to the village of the River Folk.
The village consisted of six log houses, each many paces long but only ten paces wide.
“Which one is your house, Narna?” Ella asked.
“I live in the second house, the one with the black and red woodpecker painted above the door, but it is not only my house. Really, it is my grandmother’s house, your great-grandmother’s. Your mother lived there, until she left with your father, and so does my mother, and her sister Lila, and their husbands. My brother Jirit also lives there, because he’s not yet married. When I have a daughter, she’ll live there too, and her daughters will live here long after I’m gone.
“Ay Narna!” A young man with deep black eyes and hair past his shoulders ran up to greet her. Ella stepped back a bit shyly; she hadn’t met many men, only the occasional trapper or fisherman come north for better game, and most of them had been older than her father. “Finally back! Did you find good fishing?” He paused and looked Ella over thoughtfully. “And who is this? Don’t tell me Ferank finally let Mari’s daughter come south?”
“Yes and no Samir. This is Ella, but the rest is a matter for the council. Would you go and tell Idrin that Ferank has gone missing? I’ll tell my grandmother myself.”
“Of course.” He paused and turned to Ella, smiling gently. “I am sorry for what has happened to you, Ella; your mother and I played together as children, and I was fond of her.” Ella nodded quietly and murmured “Thank you,” as he turned and ran off towards the farthest of the houses.
It took until evening, as it turned out, to gather all the council together. Ella hung back as Narna greeted the members of her house. She recognized her grandmother from her one visit, but everyone else was a stranger to her, especially the ancient woman sitting in front of the fire in the center of the house. Even Narna, who moved through the crowd with ease and confidence, approached her respectfully, and Ella was seized with a desire to hide behind her, or even to sneak off altogether.
“Greetings Mother Nali,” Narna said. “There is a matter that needs your wisdom.”
“Who is this?” The old woman spoke softly, but her eyes glinted with a lively intelligence.
Ella glanced at Narna, hoping she would speak for her, but she merely nodded encouragement. “I am Ella, Mother Nali.” She said, fidgeting with the sleeve of her tunic. “Mari’s daughter, Jana’s great-daughter.”
“Yes, Jana has spoken of you. Where is your father? Did he send you to study our ways?”
Ella’s lip quivered and she looked down. Not wanting to cry like a child in front of strangers, she took a deep breath and twisted her hands together.
“He is gone, Mother Nali. There was a strange light, and then he disappeared. I think he went back to the place that he came from. Aunt Narna says that it is a matter for the council?”
Mother Nali raised her eyebrows slightly and looked Ella up and down, her eyes piercing but kind. “Yes,” she said after a moment. “Yes, that is indeed a matter for the council. I will call it to session this evening, if Idrin agrees. You have told him?” She asked, turning to Narna.
“I sent Samir, Mother.”
“Samir’s a good boy. Someday you really should marry him like he wants and give me some more great-children.” Her eyes glittered with mischief, and Ella bit back a startled laugh.
“If he’s so wonderful, you could marry him, no?” Narna countered.
“I have outlived three husbands, little girl, and I am done. Now, go get the girl settled. She can have her mother’s old fire, or share yours if you’d rather.”
That night, the council had gathered to hear Ella’s story. The old men and women listened quietly and intently, and afterwards they spoke amongst themselves. Ella caught snatches of their speech, as she sat by the fire, waiting for their judgment.
“But she’s just a child…”
“…has the ring of truth to it.”
“perhaps when she’s older?”
Their discussion lasted long into the night, and Ella fell asleep listening to their soft, thin voices on the wind.
The next morning, Mother Nali called her to her.
“Ella, the council has made their judgment, but first I have a question for you. Do you wish to stay here, or would you rather return to your father’s home?”
Ella hesitated. “Mother Nali,” she said, “I know that I can’t live there by myself, but my father told me to stay near. If I don’t return, what if he comes back? How will he find me?”
Mother Nali nodded to herself and muttered “Very well.” Then she looked Ella squarely in the eye and said “The council’s judgment is this: your father was clearly a thunder spirit, come down to Earth for a purpose. Since he married one of our people, he obviously meant for you to be a part of our clan. However, he also told you to stay near to him, and that he would take you with him.”
Ella nodded nervously, unsure of what to make of this. Her father wasn’t a god or a spirit, after all. He had holes in his trousers where he forgot to patch them.
“Because you are part of us, you will live with us here three seasons of the year, in the hot, the cold and the dying. Because you are a spirit’s daughter, you will learn from me to honor the spirits, and to know the names of the plants and animals, and their uses.”
“However, because your father said that he’d bring you with him, and because we do not want to anger a thunder spirit, every year in the season of birth, you will return to the place of your father. We will help you build a sturdy hut there, and you will spend the season gathering plants for the people and honoring the spirits of that place. If your father wishes to reclaim you, surely he’ll see that you are there and come for you.”
Ella nodded in submission. Although she still didn’t think her father was a spirit, she knew that she could not stay alone in his place if she wanted to survive. Perhaps the elders were right at least in this; perhaps if he came to find her, it would be in the same season that he left.

The rabbit was almost skinned, when Ella began to hear the noise. It started as a faint whirring, a strange sound in this peaceful place. Her daughters teased her that she came here more to escape the clamor of her grandchildren than to appease the spirits, and there was some truth to it. She looked up, and saw a strange light pouring through the rain and into the hut. The sound got louder, changing from a whirring into a humming, and then growing slowly louder until it was a cycling wail. Ella got to her feet and walked to the door. There in front of her, through a sheet of rain, she saw a great purple star, filling the space where her father’s hut had once stood.
Ella quickly gathered her few possessions; the carved stone her first lover had given her, the blanket woven by her eldest daughter, her young grandson’s painting of a tree. She strode to the door, wrapping a thin sheet of oiled cloth around her to keep off the rain. The star became brighter, until she almost couldn’t bear to look at it, and the wailing became one long stream of sound.
“Ella! Ella, are you there?” Her father’s voice called from the center of the light. She could see him now standing there, only a shadow really, an outline against the purple glow. Perhaps he was the thunder spirit everyone said he was. It didn’t matter, though.
“Ella…?”
“Yes,” she said, her voice clear and strong. “I’m coming father.”
Reaching out her hands, she stepped forward into the light.

Story

Mon, 11 May 2009 03:30:42 GMT

This is a story I wrote for class. I'd welcome any input.

Ella hated the purple ones. She’d come to terms with the pale green grubs, the long, slimy, pinkish brown worms, and the squiggly centipedes with their sharp, crackly legs. She even liked the soft, chewy caterpillars with their deep green skin and funny stripes, but the purple ones, the ones with the hard, crunchy shells, and wet, gooey centers, always made her gag a little. Her father said that she’d learn to like them when she got older, but she noticed the way he grimaced a little every time he bit into one of the nasty things, and had her doubts.
“Why can’t we have rabbit soup?” she said.
“You know I don’t have time to hunt for rabbits,” her father replied, picking a bit of beetle shell out of his teeth. “I think I’ve almost solved the problem with the temporal converter.” He ran a hand absently over his long, tangled hair, brushing away a flea. “And your mother… She’s gone now. Anyway, the insects give us more than adequate protein.”
Ella wasn’t sure what pro-teen was, but she knew what adequate meant, and the beetles definitely weren’t it.
“I could go hunting,” she said. “I know how to load the sling and everything. Mom showed me how.” Her mother had taught her a lot of things, really useful things, not like the math and spelling her father made her do every morning. She had shown Ella how to make a snare out of hide and brush, and which trail to set it across if you wanted to snag a fat raccoon. She had taught her not to go fishing at dawn or dusk if you didn’t want the big cats to notice, and which among the slivery, speckled fish had the tastiest flesh once you caught them. She even had begun teaching her which plants were good in stew, and which were good for a tummy ache or a fever. Ella just hadn’t learned fast enough.
Her father fixed her with an exasperated stare. “You know it’s dangerous out there, Eleanor. I can’t come with you, and you don’t know how to use the gun. What if you run into a… a bear or something?”
“Bears aren’t that bad. They only want to fight if you get too near their cubs. I’d never do that. You know I’ll be careful.”
“I know you’ll try, but there’s so much you don’t understand, and I won’t be there to help if something goes wrong.”
“I’ll only go as far as the shooting field. If I go now, I can be there and back by mid-morning, and we can have the stew for lunch.”
Her father sighed. “Well, I suppose you are almost an adult. Your mother was planning to do that ritual of hers on you later this year, if she’d... All right, go ahead. I’ll admit, some stew would be nice. But be careful, and be back well before sunset. You know it’s not safe.
“I will be! I promise, I’ll just go to the field and come right back. I’ll stay off of the deer tracks too.” Mom had always told her that the deer trails weren’t safe because the meat eaters used them too.
“Yes, yes. I suppose you’ll be fine,” he said. “Now, where did I put those calculations…” He wandered back into his “laboratory,” but Ella hardly noticed; she was already off on her way. As she walked out into the midday sunlight, she sighed in relief. The thick, hard walls of her father’s blocky, white home were good protection against predators, but she liked the feel of the sun on her hair and the grass between her toes. The slick tile and nubby carpet inside wasn’t nearly as nice. Her father said that it wasn’t safe to walk around barefoot all the time, but his feet were pale, fragile things. Hers were dark and leathery, and they covered the ground with ease.
The shooting field was an hour’s run from home. Ella paused twice on the way, once to gather some dandelion root for roasting, and once to climb an old, gnarled oak and gather a nest of jay eggs. It felt good to be moving. Her father had kept her near since her mother’d come down with the spotted fever, and the large number of bugs in her diet was only one of the problems with that. Her Mom’s supply of plants and roots was almost gone, and she didn’t know how her father thought they’d get through winter if she didn’t start collecting again soon. Every since Mom died he’d seemed strange in the head. He spent more and more time on “repairs,” although what the shiny screens and bright red wires were meant to do, and why they were broke in the first place, Ella didn’t know.
Sometimes she thought that he didn’t understand how things worked at all. He just sat there all day in his metal room, scribbling down notes and “adjusting the wiring.” When Mom was there, he’d gone out sometimes and helped gather. Ella’d liked those times, even though he was a hopeless shot with the sling, and occasionally had to be reminded which were the bad kinds of mushrooms. Maybe now he was getting better; maybe if he saw that Ella could help him, he’d want to do things again.
When she reached the field, Ella took out her mother’s worn, leather sling, and fitted it with a rounded stone. It was heavy in her hand; she hadn’t swung it in almost a month. Silently, she crept out into the tall grass of the meadow, crouching to stay out of view. She noted the splayed impression of a deer’s hoof as she crossed the path they usually followed down to the stream at the field’s far end. Further in, she saw the small, four toed tracks that a lone weasel had left crossing a rill. About ten paces further down its bank, she found the long back print of a rabbit in the soft, damp ground. By the size, it was a big one too; it should make stew enough for two meals at least.
She was about to start the slow work of tracking the rabbit to its burrow when a loud, blaring blast of sound broke the morning’s silence. She cowered down, body pressed near to the ground in an instinctive crouch, eyes scanning the horizon for the source of the disturbance. Her sling was held taut in her hands, ready to aim if a target came into view. Then, as the sound came again, she frowned in confusion and slowly stood up. She recognized it.
“Now Eleanor, I need you to listen to me very carefully,” her father had said. She’d been smaller then, barely up to his elbow, and she remembered his big hands running back and forth across the panel as he spoke. Her hair was still standing on end from the loudness of the sound it had just made. “That was the alarm siren. If you ever hear that sound again, I want you to stop whatever you’re doing and come right back home.”
“But what if I’m washing up, or gathering wood for dinner?”
“It doesn’t matter.” He said, putting a gentle finger under her chin and raising it up so she was looking him in the eye. “Even if you’re stirring the pot for your mother, I want you to run right back here to me.”
Ella had nodded, her own eyes wide and serious, and after a moment he had smiled his cautious smile and hugged her very tightly.
“There should be time,” he said, though she didn’t really think he was talking to her at all anymore. “I just don’t want to chance it.”
He’d made the sound again from time to time, to practice, he said, although rarely more than once in a year. Mom never liked him making all that noise. The last time had been months and months ago, before Mom got sick. She’d been off hunting when he did it, and had sharp words for him when she came back without dinner. The noise had spooked a yearling buck that was well within her sights.
Ella realized that she was standing completely still in the middle of the field. She turned back to the woods and started running towards home, startling a couple of quail into flight with her sudden movement. She paused a second, hesitating between the deer trail and the narrower, safer path she’d come out on. The siren sounded again, and she bolted for the deer trail, throwing caution aside.
The trail was smooth under her feet, letting her run almost as fast as she could out in the open. Her eyes scanned the woods, searching for signs of bear or cat even as her feet carried her forward. As she approached the clearing, she threw up a hand to shield her eyes. Something, something near the house, was giving off a bright purplish light.
“Eleanor!”
Her father’s voice was coming from somewhere near the center of the light. Was he trapped? She hesitated, looking sideways into the glare, trying to catch a glimpse of him.
“Eleanor! Come here! There isn’t much time…”
He was definitely near the middle of it, and now the siren was sounding faster, barely a breath between blasts.
“Eleanor! Ella, please…”
Slowly Ella took a step forward, then another.
Her father was standing in the door, she saw, with one hand outstretched.
Another step, and the light seemed brighter now. The siren was one continuous wail, pulsing and groaning.
One final step, and she was at the threshold.
“Take my hand.”
Ella reached out blindly, eyes closed against the glare that suddenly, briefly was brighter than the sun. She stepped forward, and her hands closed on air.
Slowly Ella opened her eyes, blinking in the light of the midday sun. Where her house had been, a great square of brownish gray grass was pressed down into the field, as if something heavy had rested there for a long, long time. A fire still smoldered in the fire pit, and the outhouse stood silent watch over the far corner of the glade. A spare bit of wire, partly stripped of its red covering, lay on the ground. Nothing else remained.

Mad lib letter.metromacer's fault. Totally.

Mon, 06 Apr 2009 19:06:21 GMT

Dear K,

I don't really know how to tell you this, but you're a leprachaun. I think I realized it when you put cuffs on me at the mental hospital and I saw you sit on my Father. I'm sure you're frostbitten enough to understand That Santa doesn't exist. I'm returning your toe ring to you, but I'll keep the results of that blood sample as a memory. You should know that I love your sweet, sweet ass and your cucumber fetishism is weird.

Love always,

A

Dear (someone you recently talked to),

I don't really know how to tell you this, (1). I think I realized it (2)(3) and I saw you (4)(5). I'm sure you're (6) enough to understand (7). I'm returning your (8) to you, but I'll keep (9) as a memory. You should also know that I (10) and (11).

(12),
Name
__________________________

1) What's the color of your shirt?
Blue - I'm in love with your cat
Red - Our affair is over
White - I’m joining the Convent
Black - Our romance is over
Green- Our socks don't match
Grey - You're a leprechaun
Yellow - I'm selling myself for candy
Pink - Your nostrils are insulting
Brown - The mafia wants you
No shirt - Purple hedgehogs want to destroy you
Other - I dislike your eyelashes

2) Which is your birth month?
January - That night you picked your nose
February -When I quoted Forrest Gump
March - When your dwarf bit me
April - When I tripped on peanut butter
May - When I threw up in your sock drawer
June - When you put cuffs on me
July – When I saw the purple monkey
August - When you smacked my ass
September - Last year when you peed your pants
October - When we skinny dipped in the bathtub
November - When your dog humped my leg
December - When I finally changed my underwear

3) Which food do you prefer?
Tacos - When we skinny dipped in the bathtub
Chicken- In your car
Pasta - Outside of your office
Hamburgers - Under the bus
Salad – As you were eating Kraft Dinner
Lasagna - In your closet
Kebab - With Jean Chrétien
Fish - In a clown suit
Sandwiches - At the Elton John concert
Pizza - At the mental hospital
Hot dog - Under a street light
Other - With George Bush and Stephen Harper

4) What's the color of your socks?
Yellow - Ignore
Red - Put whipped cream on
Black - Hit on
Blue - Knock out
Purple - Pour syrup on
White - Carve your initials into
Grey - Pull the clothes off
Brown - bit of
Orange - Castrate
Pink - Pull the pants off of
Barefoot - Sit on
Other - Drive over

5) What's the color of your underwear?
Black - My boyfriend
White - My father
Grey – The Catholic Priest
Brown – The Montreal Canadian’s goalie
Purple - My corned beef hash
Red – My knee caps
Blue - My salt-beef bucket
Yellow - My illegitimate child in Ghana
Orange - My Blink 182 cd
Pink – Your ‘My Little Pony’ collection
Other - The elephant in the corner

6) What do you prefer to watch on TV?
One Tree Hill - Senile
Heroes- Frostbitten
Lost - High
Simpsons- Cowardly
The news - Scarred
American Idol - Masochistic
Family Guy - Open
Top Model - Middle-class
Other - shamed

7) Your mood right now?
Happy - How awful you are
Sad - How boring you are
Bored - That I get turned on only by garbage men
Angry - That your smell makes me vomit
Depressed – That we’re related
Excited - That I may pee my pants
Nervous - The middle-east is planning their revenge on you
Worried - That your Ford sucks
Apathetic - That you need a sex-change
Silly - That I'm allergic to your earlobes
Cuddly - That Santa doesn't exist
Ashamed - That there is no solution to you being a dumb kid
Other - That your driving sucks

8) What's the color of your walls in your bedroom?
White - Your toe ring
Yellow - Your love letters to me
Red - The pictures from Vegas
Black - Your pet rock
Blue - couch cushions
Green - Your car
Orange - Your false teeth
Brown - Your nose hair clippers
Grey - Our matching snoopy underwear
Purple - Your old New Kids on the Block blanket
Pink - The cut toenails
Other - Your Hannah Montana underwear

9) The first letter of your first name?
A/B - My virginity
C/D - Your toenail clippings
E/F - Your neighbors dog
G/H - The oil tank from your car
I/J - Your left ear
K/L - The results of that blood-sample
M/N - Your glass eye
O/P - My common sense
Q/R - Your mom
S/T - Your collection of butterflies
U/V - Your criminal record
W/X – Your suicide note
Y/Z - Your credit cards

10) The first letter in your last name?
A/B - Love your sweet, sweet ass
C/D - Always will remember the pep talks
E/F -Will not tell the authorities that you stole the whale from the backyard.
G/H – Never will forget that night
I/J – Mocked you behind your back constantly
K/L - Hate your cooking
M/N - Told in my confession today about the moose poaching
O/P - Told my psychiatrist about the bruises
Q/R - Always wanted to break your legs
S/T - Get sick when I think of your feet
U/V - Will try to forget that you broke my heart
W/X - Haven’t showered in a month
Y/Z – am better off without you

11) What do you prefer to drink?
Wine- Our friendship is ruined
Soft drink – I’m off to lead a new life as a lemon
Soda – I will haunt you when I’m reincarnated as an Eskimo
Milk - The apartment building is on fire
Water – I'm scratching my butt as you read this
Cider– I have a passionate interest for mice
Juice – You ruined my attempts at another world war
Mineral water – You should get that embarrassing rash checked
Hot chocolate – Your Cucumber-fetishism is weird
Whiskey - I love Oprah Winfrey
Beer – Thanks for the Cocaine
Other – you should stop picking your nose

12) To which country would you prefer to go on a vacation?
Thailand – Warm tingly sensations
Australia - Best of luck on the sex change
France - Love always
Spain - With tears of sadness
China – You make me sick
Germany – Please don’t hurt me
Japan - Go milk a cow
Greece - Your everlasting enemy
USA - Greetings to your frog Leonard
Egypt – Kiss my butt
England - Go drown yourself

Metro

Fri, 27 Feb 2009 21:43:47 GMT

A new poem. This is another class assignment.

Metro

My eyes glitter
Tonight, bright with the sharp
Light of silver shadows;
Tired, I brush
Small fingers over
Soft suede, searching for patterns
In the iridescent glint.
“Rhode Island Avenue”
Garbles the speaker
“Please stand back and wait
For passengers to exit…”
Time enough, just,
To tip my lips
Carmine and dust
Them gold.
Then Fort Totten,
And onto the Green,
Out into the dark,
Down the path,
In the door,
Into your arms, where,
Tired no more,
I am beautiful again.

Meme from meepkitty

Thu, 19 Feb 2009 21:12:11 GMT

- Describe me in one word... just one single word. Positive or negative.

- Leave your word in a comment before looking at what words others have used.

- Then copy and paste the meme to your journal to find out how people will describe you when limited to one word.

Writer's Block: Dream Job

Tue, 17 Feb 2009 05:33:20 GMT

If you could have any job in the world, what would it be?

View 503 Answers

If I could have any job in the world, I'd want to be able to make my living by writing. Specifically, if I could publish both poetry and game settings and make a living at it, I'd be completely thrilled. Failing that, I'd like to do what I'm currently studying to do; teach History on a college level.

More new poetry

Tue, 17 Feb 2009 02:28:22 GMT

Another poem I wrote for class, although I've edited it since.

Republics

Rome fell.

Some blame the grape, some

Saffron gowns,

Torrid breaths,

harsh, ungrateful crowds,

laticlaviid men in

laurel crowns.

Rome fell,

who built the

old Hibernian wall,

swallowed up the Nile,

annexed Gaul.

Why then not we,

who surely stretch as tall?

Last night I dreamed

I saw a vast parade

with thronging crowds

all calling out one name,

a man, on foot,

chosen by those same

free voices

who now echoed his refrain.

We are not Rome.

We will not fall again.

New Poetry

Fri, 13 Feb 2009 19:55:26 GMT

This is a pantoum I wrote for class. Pantoum is sudoku for poets.

False Gods

“You cannot even be my Valentine.”

she said “You know I never do these things.”

Her lips, just parted, never touching mine,

Brushed my hard knuckle lightly, traced my ring.

She said “You know, I never do these things...”

That August, standing golden in the dawn

I brushed my knuckle, lightly traced my ring,

Against her spine; murmurs, a breath indrawn.

That August, standing golden in the dawn

Deft hands shaped words these tight lips could not say

Against her spine, murmurs, a breath indrawn,

Held in a tide of Byron and Bizet.

Deft hands shaped words; these tight lips could not say

What vacuous notion prompted that caress,

Held in a tide of Byron and Bizet,

The rose bound up with larkspur, not professed.

What vacuous notion prompted that caress?

The words that faltered, sheathed in artful sighs,

The rose bound up with larkspur, not professed,

Twined round her breast and there between her thighs.

The words that faltered, sheathed in artful sighs -

she saw a promise in my house of grass

twined round her breast, and there, between her thighs,

a broken mummer's smile; it's this at last.

She saw a promise in my house of grass.

Her lips, just parted - never touching mine -

a broken mummer's smile. “It's this at last?

You cannot even be my Valentine?”

Meme from neojess

Thu, 05 Feb 2009 18:41:39 GMT

Meme From josabry

Wed, 28 Jan 2009 23:05:59 GMT

1 Make a list of things you can see without getting up:
A napping kitten, my W-2's, an ostrich feather fan, lots of books, Magic cards, a kettle and a teapot, an ornament with Hubble on it, two of my paintings, A clock that's an hour off, half a red velvet tunic, tarot cards, art books, my bed, the cat sleeping on a bed whom I previously thought was part of the blanket, perfume, snow, dirty dishes, clean dishes, a digital camera, my D&D books.

2 How do you style your hair?
I wear it in a french twist sometimes, or in schoolgirl braids. Usually I just wash it and brush it, though.

3 What are you wearing now?
A charcoal gray skirt with a matching blazer, a white cotton, 3/4 sleeve blouse, and a blue striped silk necktie.

4 Do you have some sort of secret superpower?
Sure. I can fail to notice almost anything, given the opportunity.

5 What's the last thing you read/are currently reading?
XX by Pablo Neruda, and before that A Fire Upon the Deep by Vernor Vinge.

6 Do you nap a lot?
Not really. I just kinda fail to actually get up.

7 Who was the last person you hugged?
Kingmob

8 What's your current fandom/obsession/addiction?
Obsession: Personal
Fandom: Oh, Joss Wheadon probably, although Babylon 5 is catching up.
Addiction: Caffeine and Chocolate.

10 What was the last thing you ate today?
Chocolate covered shortbread.

11 What was the last thing you said aloud?
Oh, probably "Take care" or "I'll talk to you later."

12 What websites do you always visit when you go online?
Yahoo, Woot, XKCD, Webtycho

13 Last thing you bought:
Groceries

14 What are you listening to right now?
The breathing of a sleeping kitten.

15 What's the last song that got stuck in your head?
"Jupiter" by Jewel

16 If you could have any superpower, what would it be? My cats say I should choose the power to be able to understand what they're saying when they're giving me orders. However, what I'd like for myself is the power to change forms. I'd like to be able to be a dragon, flying over the ocean, or to see the world through the senses of an ameoba or a tree.

17 What is your favorite weather, and why?
I love a late spring thunderstorm when the weather's been a bit too warm, but the storm breaks it, and the rain is warm and pours down like it's coming out of a faucet.

18 How are you?
Good. Tired a bit, and working through things, but ok.

19 What's something you'd like someone to say to you right now?
Everything's going to be all right. You're doing a good job. Don't worry so much.

20 Say something to the person who tagged you.
No one tagged me, but I'll say thanks to josabry for giving me yet another opportunity to meme the impossible meme. You rock. (:

Meme from metromancer

Tue, 20 Jan 2009 05:34:10 GMT

ONE WORD ANSWERS. BECAUSE THAT'S THE GAME.

1. Where is your cell phone? Purse
2. Significant other? Hyattsville
3. Your hair? Shorter
4. Your mother? Quixotic
5. Your father? Dead
6. Your favorite thing? Expression
7. Your dream last night? Love
8. Your favorite drink? Scotch
9. Your dream? Beauty
10. The room you're in? Living
11. Your fear? Cowardice
12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Learning
13. Where were you last night? Home
14. Something you are not? Weak
15. Muffins? Banana
16. One of your wish list items? Neruda
17. Where you grew up? Wethersfield
18. The last thing you did? Testimonial
19. What are you wearing? Velvet
20. Your TV? Old
21. Your pet(s)? Affectionate
22. Your computer? Persnickety
23. Your life? Transforming
24. Your mood? Thoughtful
25. Missing someone? Terribly
26. Your car? Feet
27. Something you're not wearing? Shoes
28. Favorite Store? Torrid
29. Your summer? Busy
30. Your favorite color? Gray
31. When is the last time you laughed? Tonight
32. Last time you cried? Tonight
33. Who will/would re-post this? Whoever
34. Place I go over and over? Bed
35. What is your favorite food? Chocolate
36. Place I would rather be right now? Cuddling

XKCD

Mon, 12 Jan 2009 22:39:54 GMT

Hee!

Poetry

Mon, 05 Jan 2009 22:00:00 GMT

Assent

Like leather between
the lips, well oiled,
dangerous,
she stands shuddering
sweat on her shoulder,
sunlit, tracing her from
nape to base.
Between breath and breath
the slash;
sharp on skin
still flushed with sunlight.
So fast the arch,
the sudden gasp,
the sigh.

Regret

lips like ours
not blossoms brushing
bruised by November
you do not touch
Me when you
touch me
bend me in two
twisting in time
some primal spasm
mouthing the words I've lost
bite me, scratch me,
run your fingers
cold claws,
nape to tail.
where is the signal
in this noise?

Unrequited

I've been around this block
a time
or two
so lets say,

just for the sake of argument, mind you,
and not anything binding,

lets say that I'm
captivated by your eyes,
mesmerized by your voice,
shattered at your touch...

lets say these things for the record,
and you can see them, when you see me,
thinking of you

I, I will be
washing the dishes in my
white porcelain sink
watering yellow roses
writing verse

but you can see me
pouring my heart into a crystal bowl
and floating violets there
in the shape of your chin

while I
blind my students with
grammar and wit
dream with Orpheus
ride with Alexander

you may well imagine
that I'm kissing you in effigy
waiting for you in the moonlight
wearing only hope and a silken veil

(I am a romantic, and we do these things)

I...
I will be on my porch,
watching the rain soak my garden,
and if I am thinking of you,
you will not see it.

After the Waters

I don't want a love song;
Once, soft sadness -
slow mist flowing across black water,
shadow-eyed children, grass and starlight,
last breath of summer on the silent lake-
waded into me; I was
Drenched, dripping with it,
sweetness that stabbed and lingered.

This dry sorrow
answers no verse
only
stone – grinds-against – stone
worn
down
to
nothing
(I don't want a love song)
reminding this emptiness
what filled it.

Meme from metromancer

Tue, 05 Aug 2008 00:31:33 GMT

What is on your bed right now?
Sheets, pillows, a comforter, Jonjon, who is curled up in a ball at its foot, and Lil, who is sitting on my pillow.

When was the last time you threw up?
Gosh. A couple months ago at least.

What were you doing at 8 am this morning?
I was chatting with my boss about boys, because I have the best boss on earth.

What were you doing 30 minutes ago?
Playing Persona 3

What is your favorite holiday?
Christmas, probably, although I love Thanksgiving too.

Have you ever been to another country?
No

What is the last thing you said aloud?
I think "give me a call if you want to hang out," or something to that effect, to mcmahan's Voicemail.

What is the best ice cream flavor?
Hmmm. Offhand, I'd have to say Ben and Jerry's Dublin Mudslide. It's Irish Cream liquor coffee with cookie bits and chocolate coffee swirl. It is bliss.

What was the last thing you had to drink?
Coke Zero

What's the last sporting event you watched?
Probably the Superbowl.

If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?
Probably either London or Paris.

Ever go camping?
Yes, and I rather enjoy it.

Have you ever lost anything down a toilet?
Nope.

Do you use smiley faces on the computer alot?
Only on IM. Don't tell, please? kthxbai ;P

Do you drink your soda from a straw?
Only in restaurants.

What are you doing tomorrow?
Teaching children to read and loosing money at cards.

Where is your mom right now?
Wethersfield, CT. Probably in her garden.

Look to your left, what do you see?
My apartment, Beren sleeping on the kitchen floor.

What color is your watch?
Silver, but I never wear it.

What is your birthstone?
Pearl.

Any plans today?
I'm going to play more Persona, chat with Vince online, do some more laundry, and eat some banana bread.

Are you happy?
Yes, usually.

Biggest annoyance in your life right now?
Bureaucracy

Are you allergic to anything?
Penicillin

Favorite pair of shoes you wear all the time?
Black suede mary janes

Are you jealous of anyone?
No. I like being me.

Are you married?
Sensitive question.

Do you hate anyone right now?
No. I love a number of people in very complicated ways, though.

How old will you be turning on your next birthday?
33

How did u get one of your scars?
I cut my finger on a catfood can. Apropos, no?

Kittehs!

Sat, 26 Jul 2008 03:33:57 GMT

Here are the prerequisite photos of my sooo adorable baby kitten, and of my other two little attention fiends.

Big Read as per elengul

Thu, 03 Jul 2008 01:28:36 GMT

So elengul put up the Big read meme, and this is my response.
Reading is awesome!
The Big Read reckons that the average adult has only read 6 of the top 100 books they've printed. Well let's see.

1) Look at the list and bold those you haven't read.
2) Bold and Italicize those you intend to read.
3) Reprint this list in your own LJ so we can try and track down these people who've read 6 and force books upon them ;-)

1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien
3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling
5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
6 The Bible
7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
8 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell (I'm counting it, even though I couldn't quite finish it)
9 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott
12 Tess of the D'Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
14 Complete Works of Shakespeare
15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier
16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien
17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulks
18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger
19 The Time Traveller's Wife - Audrey Niffenegger
20 Middlemarch - George Eliot
21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
23 Bleak House - Charles Dickens
24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
25 The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
26 Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
33 Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis
34 Emma - Jane Austen
35 Persuasion - Jane Austen
36 The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe - CS Lewis
37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini
38 Captain Corelli's Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres
39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
40 Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne
41 Animal Farm - George Orwell
42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown
43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving
45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery
47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
48 The Handmaid's Tale - Margaret Atwood
49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding
50 Atonement - Ian McEwan
51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel
52 Dune - Frank Herbert
53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons
54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth
56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
57 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens
58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon
60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt
64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac
67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
68 Bridget Jones's Diary - Helen Fielding
69 Midnight's Children - Salman Rushdie
70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville
71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
72 Dracula - Bram Stoker
73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
75 Ulysses - James Joyce
76 The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath
77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
78 Germinal - Emile Zola
79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray
80 Possession - AS Byatt
81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens
82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker
84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
87 Charlotte's Web - EB White
88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom
89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
90 The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery
93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
94 Watership Down - Richard Adams
95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare
99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl
100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo

A lot of the ones I haven't read that have a movie adaptation I've experienced that way.

Meme from metromancer

Sat, 07 Jun 2008 06:08:21 GMT

You Are 18% Evil

You are good. So good, that you make evil people squirm.

Just remember, you may need to turn to the dark side to get what you want!

How Evil Are You?

Meme from lady_trinket

Mon, 28 Apr 2008 23:01:14 GMT

Bedroom Meme, cut for brevity.

Do you have the following in your bedroom:

Condoms: Yep.

Mobile phone: Not at the moment, although it recharges there.

Chair/stool: Two, one by my art table and the other by my desk.

Shelves: a couple sets

Dresser: yes, a blue one that my father made me.

Computer: Nope; that's in my living room.

Pictures: One of me and my father.

Mirror : Yep, on my armoire.

Skateboard: Nope, don't own one. *imagines the chaos and bloodshed that would accompany her trying to skateboard and shudders*

Clothes: Yep, mostly in the armoire, the dresser and the laundry basket, although there are a few hanging off a chair to dry at the moment.

Smoke detector: Nope; that's in the living room as well.

Piano/keyboard/Guitar/bass/drums: Nope, although I do have a microphone attachment for my PS2.

Bottle of water: In the living room.

Blacklight: Nope.

Medals/ribbons: Spools of ribbon.

CDs: Yep.

Stop sign/any sign: Too right.

Real gun: Nope

Cigarettes: Nope

Pot: Nope

Any drug: Nope. Medicine cabinet for that.

Books: On every horizontal surface.

Xbox: nope

Playstation: in the living room

Gamecube: nope.

Cd player: Yep.

Meme from yerbrainondrugs

Mon, 28 Apr 2008 22:45:22 GMT

Cut for brevity.

TECHNOLOGY
Q. What is your wallpaper on your computer?
A painting by Cezanne.

Q. How many televisions you have in your house?
Two, although only one is hooked up to cable, and I rarely turn it on.

BIOLOGY
Q. Are you right-handed or left-handed?
Right

Q. Have you ever had anything removed from your body?
Nope.

Q. What is the last heavy item you lifted?
My groceries when I walked home from Safeway.

Q. Have you ever been knocked out?
Nope.

BULLSHITOLOGY
Q. If it were possible, would you want to know the day you were going to die?
No; I think it would make it harder to enjoy life.

Q. If you could change your name, what would you change it to?
Katharine

Q. What color do you think looks best on you?
gray

Q. Have you ever swallowed a non-food item?
Yes

DAREOLOGY
Q. Would you kiss a member of the same sex for $100?
Of course; I'd be kissing a cute girl. The $100 would be incidental.

Q. Would you allow one of your little fingers to be cut off for $200,000?
At this point? Probably.

Q. Would you never blog again for $50,000
No.

Q. Would you pose naked in a magazine for $250,000?
Probably, although I'd be embarrassed

Q. Would you drink an entire bottle of hot sauce for $1000?
Nope.

Q. Would you, without fear of punishment, take a human life for $1,000,000?
No.

DUMBOLOGY
Q: What is in your left pocket?
40 cents.

Q: Is Napoleon Dynamite actually a good movie?
Never seen it.

Q: Do you have hardwood or carpet in your house?
Carpet.

Q: Do you sit or stand in the shower?
Stand. No tub.

Q: How many pairs of flip flops do you own?
one

LASTOLOGY
Q: Last person who texted you?
My friend Robert.

Q: Last person who called you?
Trey

Q: Person you hugged?
Mark

FAVORITOLOGY
Q: Number?
11

Q: Season?
Fall or spring

Q: Color?
Hmmm. Probably various shades of blue.

CURRENTOLOGY
Q: Missing someone?
Yes.

Q: Mood?
Tired and wistful.

Q: Listening to?
The wind in the trees and the rain.

Q: Watching?
Nothing in particular.

Q: Worrying about?
My friends, my schoolwork.

Q: Wearing?
A denim skirt and a brown cotton and crochet shirt.

RANDOMOLOGY
Q: First place you went this morning?
Kitchen to feed the (yowling) cats.

Q: What can you not wait to do?
Play Spore, see my Mom and brother again.

Q: Do you smile often?
Yes.

Q: Are you a friendly person?
Very much so.

Meme from black_op

Mon, 28 Apr 2008 22:26:15 GMT

Four, Four, Four, Four...

A) Four places that I go to over and over:
kingmob13's house, yerbrainondrugs's house, metromancer and josabry's house, and mcmahan's house.

B) Four people that e-mail me regularly (more than twice a week):
kingmob13, Trey, OkCupid, Poetry.com

C) Four of my favorite places to eat:
Never on a Sunday, Panera, Five Guys, Vaccaros

E) Four people I think will respond:
Hmmm. metromancer, elengul, josabry and neojess

F) Four TV shows I watch over and over:
Buffy, West Wing, Firefly, and Studio 60.

Just couldn't resist...

Sun, 06 Apr 2008 00:43:13 GMT

Too funny

Tue, 01 Apr 2008 02:04:07 GMT

This is off of Bash.org. It totally made my day.

Guo_Si: Hey, you know what sucks?
TheXPhial: vaccuums
Guo_Si: Hey, you know what sucks in a metaphorical sense?
TheXPhial: black holes
Guo_Si: Hey, you know what just isn't cool?
TheXPhial: lava?

Why no one will see me this September...

Sat, 29 Mar 2008 02:29:21 GMT

Yahtzee again.

Thu, 27 Mar 2008 14:44:51 GMT