Him, Him, and Probably Him

Let me tell you the story of my life. It begins on a dark night. Where a dark man waits - with a dark purpose...

Wait...what? That's not right. My story starts out with me living in southern California; The Palm Desert area, to be precise. I had a goodly amount of friends, and we had some good times. You know, as friends are wont to do. 

Then one day my family up and moved to Alaska. Alaska! From one clime to a completely different one. And, of course, I couldn't exactly take any of my non-familial friends with me. Thus, I had to start anew.

Find some guy. Make friend. Repeat as desired. I made a decent amount of close companions. I probably would have made even more - if we hadn't moved again three years later, this time to rural Pennsylvania. 

It was a sabbatical, of sorts. A time to recover and thinks things over. Lord knows that, me being the eleven-year-old that I was, I definitely had some things to ponder. 

So I took six months to get in touch with my roots. I reflected on my life, and where it was going. And I'm pretty sure I met no-one who really qualified as a non-related friend. At first, I had planned to do this for three months. But, as I neared the end of that time, I decided that I really, sincerely enjoyed being surrounded by a lack of peers with whom I could hang out with, and made the decision to stay an additional three months. Feeding goats all the while. I think that ought to get me out of a couple years of purgatory. 

I'm just thankful there was electricity (Amishamish. Pokepoke). 

Anyways, the family then transitioned back to California. This time, however, we were in northern California; Sacramento, to be precise. Get to reconnect with all my old friends? No dice. 

However, thanks to a certain youth group staying at our house in Alaska while they were on a mission trip, I basically had some instant friends. And then I got to meet all their siblings, and I had even more friends. I basically had friends coming out my ears. Friend overload. More friends then I knew what to do with. Well, that's debatable. After all, there was one time...Hold up! I'm getting off subject.

Really, to make that long story short (although saying this really defeats the purpose of the whole section above), I moved around a lot, and pretty much never had contact with any of my friends from southern California. Oh sure, there were one or two encounters (which were both lots of fun), but for the most part, I spent three years in Alaska, six months in Pennsylvania, and then six years in Sacramento, California just living my life as though I had no friends in Southern California.

Then, I came to Vanguard, and everything changed. There's so many people here on campus that I've known, or known someone who knows them, or even known someone who knows someone who knows them. It's pretty weird. At least I already knew some of them were attending Vanguard, so it wasn't too much of a shock.

Anyways, to give an example, move-in day. I get all my things up to my room (without me carrying a thing. Crazy. Read my second blog entry for more information), look across the hall, and see the name Tim Krapivkin boldly blazoned across the door on a little piece of green paper tastefully taped to it. 

Oh Tim. Was never really the greatest friends with him, him being closer to my brother's age and all, but still. It was just weird. And then his younger brother (more my friend in years past) moves in several doors down. Oh Jon. 

So here are two guys - practically ghosts from my past - living and breathing again as though I hadn't just missed out on ten years of their lives. I bet they felt the same way, but in a much less philosophical mien (and admittedly, I didn't really think of it that way. It just sounded fun). 

Others were soon to follow.

I had heard from a reliable source that arguably my best friend from Palm Desert (although sometimes I wonder if I just liked him so much because he had video games. And then I think of what a horrible person I am) was attending Vanguard, and had been for a year. 

"Huzzah!" went my thoughts. I'll be able to reestablish some kind of friendly connection that will allow me to again get to know one of my best friends. 

At some point, I saw someone who I thought was him, but after the real one showed up at my room, I realized the first one wasn't him. Just some random guy - or so I thought (scroll down for more). 

Anyways, we talked, it was just like old times, and things were cool. We don't actually hang out with each other a whole lot - although I have his roommate in one of my classes - but we see a lot of each other around campus, which is definitely a step up from a year ago. Oh Matthew. Or Matt, as he is now often called.

Then, at church last Sunday, this guy walks up to me, shakes my hand, and goes "Hey Elijah! Great to see you!" 

Aside from realizing this was the guy I had mistaken for Matthe...Matt, it took me a moment to realize this was another friend from Southern California. Well, really more my brother's friend, but we definitely knew each other.

I had seen him around campus several times; it just never clicked that I knew him. I blame it on the fact that all the recent pictures I've seen of him don't involve him wearing glasses, or having the type of hairstyle he now has. Oh Kyle. 

So yeah. It's just like old times...except different. I have all my really old friends - minus a few - I have a lot of new friends, and I can still keep in touch with my other friends, thanks to the miracle of the internet. 

And then I discovered that one of the guys on my floor is the brother of one of the girls my brother used to date. Ca. Razy. 

It really is a small world, after all...Oh my. I think I just threw up a little.

American Gladiators

It was a night to remember. All the greatest fighters from around the campus gathered into a single place. Legends, like The Baron, brought spectators from all dorms. The resident gladiators struck fear amongst the audience. The lights were bright, and the battles many. And so, leaving behind me a trail of blood and tears, I became - The Ninja. 

Boy, sounds like the opening to some kind of self-empowerment film or something, doesn't it? Anyways, last night, Vanguard hosted an "American Gladiators" contest for its student body. Apparently, it's based off a show from the telly.

All I know is that I received an email on Monday giving me the name, location, and time of the event. And that costumes were encouraged. Then, Thursday morning, at chapel, they showed a ten second video clip of the show. Basically, it was just pictures of buff people wearing next-to-nothing. 

Okay, that was interesting and all, but I still had next-to-no idea what in the world this event was going to be. Oh well. I figured I would go anyways. About half my floor went out shopping for costumes. I didn't really see the point. When they came back, decked out in short shorts, head bands, and the like, I was rather - amused. 

Then, 5 minutes before we left, I somehow got the idea in my head to dress up as a ninja. A pair of sweats, a black shirt, and a second black shirt tied tastefully around my head later, I was a ninja. Awesome sauce. I didn't have any black shoes, so I opted for barefoot. Best decision ever. I think my feet are still grass-stained. 

As we were walking over from the dorms, someone said I should sneak around everywhere, so I did. I even ninja ran. T'was great fun. 

Once at the event, I discovered there were a couple games going on. There was one of those inflatable jousting thingys, a dodgeball area, a climbing wall, and hamster-ball obstacle course. 

First thing I did was climb a tree. People oohed and aahed and took pictures. I almost felt like I failed as a ninja. Then I realized I was wearing all black in a highly-lit area on a white tree trunk. A bit hard to blend in there. I even got to poison dart a guy, so that made up for it. 

After that, I took part in the jousting against one of the "gladiators." 

His fighting was decent, but he wasn't much of a chaaallenge. I took the win all three rounds. I even got to do a ninja move in the beginning of the third round where I ducked his weapon. I felt so talented. 

I climbed the rock wall, too, and as usual, piece of cake. Or pie. Chocolate creme pie. Got some friends on it, though, so that was shway. 

I even participated in dodgeball. Half the time, I was just standing there, and I could only assume that the other side couldn't see me. Oh yeah. Talk about costume success. 

At some point, I even had some lady walk up to me and start talking to me. This is about how the conversation went:

Lady: "Are you the only ninja here tonight?"

Me: "Yeah."

Lady: "What's your name?"

Me: "Matsumoto Yoshi" (Actually, I just said Elijah. I wanted to say Matsumoto Yoshi, but she looked important, so I figured it was probably best to give her my actual name)

Lady: "And what's your last name?"

Me: "Dove."

Lady: "Dove?"

Me: "Yeah."

Lady: "Okay, thanks."

And she walked away. I had no idea what the point of that was, although some people made mention of me maybe being in the yearbook. Talk about shway. 

Oh, and I climbed a giant pine tree a couple times. The first time, a friend jokingly said I should climb it. She blinked, and I was gone. You could hardly see me, I blended into the shadows so well. Just like a ninja...wait...

Anyways, when I came down, I discovered she hadn't been serious. I guess she doesn't know me very well yet. And at the very end of the night, I climbed it a second time. I was within six feet of the very tippity-top of the tree. It was a great view. I just sat there for fifteen minutes or so, enjoying feeling like a cat (those dang birds!).

And that was my Thursday night. Wish they had American Gladiators more than once a year, but I hear people wear costumes to bowling nights and stuff...

I can't wait.

Oh, oh! I almost forgot. Ever wonder why Spiderman is always randomly removing his mask in the movie, and you always wonder why in the world he is always randomly removing his mask? Well, I have the answer:

It's because masks get freaking hot! For serious. I could hardly breath a lot of the time.

Okay, that's it. Go about your lives, citizens.