NaNoWriMo Finissimo!

Or, to elaborate, National Novel Writing Month Fine!

Yeah, didn't know what Finissimo actually meant. But! I do know NaNoWriMo '09 is now officially over.

And I won! Huzzah! 50,000 words of a brand new novel - a novel never before seen by any living thing ever - in less than 30 days. Suffice it to say I'm a tad satisfied with myself.

But it wasn't all rose smelling and grass watching. Oh no. This year, for whatever reason, was much more difficult than previous years. At times, I just couldn't bring myself to write. I would sit at my desk, staring at my computer, not willing to do other things, but not willing to open up my story, either. If I had just opened that story, things would have gone just peachy. As is, things got a little hairy towards the end of the month. It was a little iffy there for a bit, whether or not I'd reach the goal in time; thanks to a 7000 word day and a 12,000 word day, I did it, and with two full days to spare, too!

What follows is a log of my November writing activities, for your viewing pleasure.

Week 1:
Day 1: 5k words written at all night write-in.
Day 2: 500 words written during class.
Day 3: 500 more words written.
Days 4-7: No words written.
Week 1 word count: 6000 words

At this point, I resolved to a 7 to 9 writing time every Tuesday to Thursday.

Week 2:
Day 8: No words written.
Day 9: 500 words written during class.
Day 10: 4k words written, during and after the 7 to 9 time.
Day 11: 1000 words written, 500 during class.
Day 12: 2000 written from 7 to 9.
Day 13-14: 500 words written at hotel
Total word count: 14000 words

That weekend was my brother's wedding, and I stayed with my family in a hotel away from my dorm room. Was a fun weekend, but not at all productive for writing. Starting to freak out a little.

Week 3:
Day 15: Still spent with family. Evening spent rehearsing dance for Woofest*. No words written.
Day 16: 4000 words written around and in classes.
Day 17: Performed in Woofest all evening. 1000 words written earlier in the day.
Day 18: 2000 words written, 500 in class.
Day 19: 4000 words written.
Days 20-21: No words written.
Total word count: 25000 words

*Woofest - an event in which each of the six floors of the male freshmen dorm put together and perform a dance/skit to "woo" the women of Vanguard. Also, something that took entirely too much time.

Also, notice that I haven't done any writing on the weekends. For the most part, there was absolutely no reason for this. Just me not getting around to writing. At this point, I'm halfway done with only one more week to go. My list of "Things To Do, Urgent" is very prominent. Also, all my rides up to Sacramento for Thanksgiving fell through, so I decided I'd just go over to my friend's or brother's house for Thanksgiving. No problem; more time to write.

Week 4:
Day 22: No words written
Day 23: No words written, even in the class I usually write in.
Day 24: I figure I'll just write 5000 words a day until I finish. No worries. 4000 words written, and I watch Twilight when I should be writing that last thousand (overall, I'd say a fair movie).
Day 25: Don't write all day, figuring I'll write in the evening. My brother says he'll pick me up at 5, and I can stay at his house until Friday. Great, shouldn't be too many distractions at his house, so I'll be able to do writing. 1000 words written at his house. Still on track for 5000 words a day within the deadline.
Day 26: Thanksgiving dinner at brother's inlaw's house. Get back to brother's house at about 6. Figure I'll get my 5000 written. We watch the new G.I. Joe movie. 1000 words written.
Total word count: 31,000 words

Guess what I'm going to be doing the last weekend?

Day 27: Get dropped back off at my dorm room at 7:30. Watch a movie. Take a nap. Dawdle until 7, and then write for six hours. My door doesn't open. I don't see a single person. 7000 words written.
Total word count: 38,000 words

Day 28: Wake up. Eat Thanksgiving leftovers. Write from 12:30 until 4. Take a break at 42k and giggle to myself at the number. Start writing again at 6. Reach 47k. Half-hour break to be social with two people, one of which has actually done NaNo in a previous year (the first Vanguard student I've met who hasn't heard about it from me). Back to writing at 10:45. Reach 49k at midnight. Head back to my room and get ready for bed. Write the last 1000 in 45 minutes.

Validate and win at 1:12 (one of my favorite numbers)! Extremely happy. 12k words in a single day! My eyes burn.
Final word count: 50,049 words

Day 29: Relax in hammock.
Day 30: Not touch my novel.

Who Needs Energy Drinks?

Energy flows through my veins! Chemicals, chemicals rushing, rushing, wreaking havoc on my organs. That's right. Energy drinks. Those cans filled to brimming with radioactive waste scooped from the nearest sewer pipe of large, industrial factories.

Who needs them?

I don't. All I need to do is live. The fresh air, the oxygen, the nitrogen, the homework I need to do...it all provides a rush like no other! I need to scream, I need to dance, I need to engage in some kind of activity that will leave me breathless, muscles aching, tongue lolling, heart beating from a cool, natural high. Endorphins. I love endorphins. Exercise gives you endorphins. Endorphins make you happy. Happy people don't kill their husbands. They just don't! And did anyone else notice endorphins sound like a heavily-accented Chinese man trying to say dolphins?

I claim babbling. Look at my blog title. Don't like it, write a letter. Form a committee. Get in line. What line? There is no line. Tough. Make one.

Babble babble, tower of rabble

Cheating fools of murder all.

Dabble dabble, tower of Babel

And then downwards ever fall.

Freaking jerks. I can't believe they built that tower. Can you imagine how much easier life would be if we all spoke a single language. Yeesh. Makes me want to punch a cowboy.

Okay, I'm done. Good to get that off my chest. I rambled a little bit. A little bit.

In other news, my foot stopped hurting after that one night. Well, it still hurt, just not as much as that first night. It's actually feeling pretty good right now. And I don't have a prosthetic. The alien was very good about seeping through the pores of my foot. Godspeed little alien spawn, wherever you are.

Child of the Foot

Sequel to the Ninja Turtle Spin-off series, "The Foot Clan," in which it is discovered that the Foot ninjas originated from a small ethnocentric community in rural Virginia that was relocated to Japan in the early 1800s, at which time they reached their level of notoriety they enjoy today. It's a documentary, actually.

And that's also the only thing that it has in common with my foot. Earlier today, for absolutely no reason that I can see, my foot slowly began to build up an ache, a pain, a non-pins-and-needles sort of feeling that has persisted ever since. It started off small, something along the lines of a sore muscle. "Okay," I told myself. "I can deal with this." Soon, the ache began to build, slowly but surely intensifying until it was vaguely uncomfortable. I just knew something was up.

I had a test in TaeKwonDo (was pretty easy as per usual), and it didn't really bother me throughout the class. At least, I was able to ignore it. It finished, I came back to the room, did some stuff, showered some skin, and decided my foot HURTS.

This pain, whatever it is, has decided to progress merrily along from one small isolated spot on the opposite side of the arch of my left foot to a large isolated spot on the opposite side of the arch of my left foot. It's localized pain, which I suppose is a blessing. At least it's not spreading to my other foot (yet [knock on wood]), but nearly the entire bottom of my left foot feels like there's an alien hatchling chewing through the flesh. Mmm. Fresh meat. I suppose I really can't blame him. My feet are some quality chunks of human, after all. Probably go for ten bucks an ounce on the Plutonian black market.

Just, please, burst out soon so I can get a prosthetic.

Re: Classes & Mailbox Loot

As requested, elaboration!

~ School starts

sub: classes

Okilydokily! Classes! You asked, and so here it is. I'm taking TaeKwonDo (yey), Empirical World lecture (bleh) and lab (meh), Old Testament Survey (yey), Creative Writing (yey), Survey of American Literature 1 (...yey?), and Survey of World Literature 1 (yey). Now there's a funny story surrounding my classes. At least, I find it amusing. Judge as you will.

First off, I was originally not at all pleased with my class schedule for this semester. It ran full days on Monday/Wednesdays, which isn't so bad. I can handle a full day or two. But then my Tuesday/Thursdays were ugly. I had a class from 10:30-11:45, and then a break of two class periods before having another class at 3:00. Ugh. I was not at all looking forward to having a big gap between classes. I'd rather have them be in chunks and just get them over with. And then, to top it off, I had a Friday class - which I was able to avoid all last year.

Okay, so classes start, things are actually looking pretty decent; I've accepted the fact I'm going to have this big gap between things on Thursdays. I have a 9 o'clock class (American Literature) M/W/F, but my roommate (Steve) and next door neighbors (Cody and Andy. Names are important, y'know) all have 9 o'clock classes as well. Sweet deal. Won't be a problem waking up. Well, Cody and I discover we have different classes in the same room at the same time. That seemed a bit odd, so we walk over, figuring we'd puzzle it out at the class room.

As it turns out, the class I had thought was at 9 was actually at 11. Well darn. Now I'd probably be sleeping in later (nice, but I'd prefer to be forced to get up early. Call me a masochist). Now I'm all thrown off. Things are looking bleak when, lo and behold, I discover there's a World Literature class at 9 M/W/F. Well. Isn't that enticing? It's part of my requirement anyways, and if I took it, it would mean I could drop my 3:00 T/Th class (Christian Worldview. A junior class, which I wouldn't have minded if it wasn't for the time). So that's what I did.

And then I head to my Old Testament class (which, incidentally, has about half my floor enrolled) and discover my professor is just about the epitome of awesome. Professor Westbrook, you are just about the epitome of awesome. So cool. And then my Empirical World Lab professor reveals himself to be a pretty cool guy, as well. A former male model (and he says it's exactly like Zoolander), he's chill, understanding most of us don't really want to be there. Let's us out after a half hour. I think I like you, Professor Michael Smith.

TaeKwonDo was killer. Soresoresore. But fun.

As for my Empirical World lecture, I attended the first day, and left thinking "Well, 5 out of 6 awesome classes isn't bad." The professor just seemed really, really bland. Okay, that's not true. He seems like a really cool guy; it's more the material. I came back to the next class and reviewed my notes, and I remembered writing about 1% of them.

But actually, it's starting to get a little interesting now. I really am some kind of glutton for learning, I think.

And so my (tentative) final schedule is as follows:

Monday: World Lit (9:00-9:30), Am Lit (11:00-11:50), Old Testament (1:00-2:15), Creative Writing (2:30-5:30), TaeKwonDo (8:00-9:15).

Tuesday: Empirical World Lecture (10:30-11:45)

Wednesday: Same as Monday, except Empirical World Lab (3:00-6:00) instead of Creative Writing.

Thursday: See Tuesday.

Friday: The first two classes of Monday and Wednesday.

So, really, I'm much, much happier with this schedule.

And I'm tempted - oh so tempted - to add Hip Hop right after my Empirical World Lecture class on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Yes. Very tempted.

sub: mailbox loot

Alright, let me set up some background:

As per usual, I tried to order all my textbooks online. Since I have two literature classes, I had to buy two sets of anthologies (Gosh and darn. I had to buy story books), so that was pretty exciting when those came in the mail. There were also some novels I had to buy, and novels are always exciting to receive. So the totals for nearly all my schoolbooks for classes was about $150. Not bad, considering it would probably be about double that if I bought them in the bookstore. Plus, most of those are books I'll probably never sell. This was a Friday.

I was a little miffed when I had to buy my science book (and I'm very glad I'm not a science major). The textbook in the bookstore was $130, and the lab book (which each student has to buy. No photocopies allowed) was about $60. So, together, they would add up to about the same as all my other books combined. But, I went online and found both books for $120 new. Score! This was also on Friday.

Besides that, I had surplus financial aid this year. So I head over to the business services office, right? I ask them if I can withdraw the surplus, right? They say go online and request a check, right? So I do that, right? I send in the request, but - funny thing - there's nothing asking me how much I want to withdraw, so I'm thinking they're either going to send me a blank check or maybe a hundred dollars or something. Whatever. They say it will arrive Thursday. This was a Friday. Cool beans.

And then I brought my Gamecube to school (well, technically, I bring a new used Gamecube to school after buying it to give my sister an early birthday present. She wanted to keep the old one), but I left my only memory card with my sister. Figured she could use it more. Now I'm here at school playing video games with floormates, and we are lamenting our inability to save anything. We can't unlock new characters or anything. So I decide to peruse Ebay and pick up a 32 Mb (whereas my old one was 4 Mb) for $10. This was a Monday. Probably take about a week or so to get here.

So I'm way excited to check my mailbox each day. That same Monday, most of my books arrive (so exciting), but I'm still waiting on my science books. Tuesday, nothing. Wednesday, I get out of chapel, open my mailbox, and pull out a check. Is it blank? No. Is it for $100? No. I'm fairly certain it was my entire surplus (and after checking with Business Services, I discover I was correct, although only for one semester).

I won't say how much it was for, but I have to say I actually made an audible exclamation of surprise. And now I'm sorely tempted to buy a Nintendo Wii (but I will resist, of course. Frivolous spending). I also receive a slip of paper saying I received a package and can collect it inside. "My science books are here. Oh joy," I think.

I go inside, hand over the slip, and the lady comes waltzing back with this tiny, cushioned envelope. "What in the world? There's no way the science books will fit in that," I think. "Thank you very much," I say. Extremely confused, I open the envelope.

And find a memory card! Huzzah and hurray! What a pleasant surprise! That was definitely the best day as far as mail went (I received my science book on Thursday [not as exciting]. Unfortunately, it was only the text book, so I'll just have to buy the lab book in the bookstore [but I actually have cash for it now!]).

Now I'm kind of depressed because I'm not expecting anything else in my mailbox. So sad.

I think I'll pull through.

And that just about wraps those two subjects up. If my faithful reader(s?) is interested in anything else, just let me know! Here's the remaining list:

~ Summer

sub: getting out of school

sub: selling knives

sub: Halloween costume?

~ School Starts

sub: room and roommate and dorm and dormmates

~ Anything else

sub: specify

sub: maybe other stuff I've forgotten and will remember later?

Okays.

Update? Update.

Forward the paper, dip the pens! I'm updating my blog. Because it's been sofreakinglong since my last update, and a ton of stuff has happened, I'm not even going to attempt to write it all up. It would take much, much too long.

Instead, I'm going to make a list. Yes, a list. This list will be a short list. Choose one [maybe two], and I'll elaborate on it.

~ Summer

sub: getting out of school

sub: selling knives

sub: Halloween costume?

~ School starts

sub: classes

sub: room and roommate and dorm and dormmates

sub: mailbox loot

~ Anything else

sub: specify

sub: maybe other stuff I've forgotten and will remember later?

Okays.

Summer? An August Idea!

When I began learning life's lessons, no one ever told me time would go faster and faster. I never received a homework assignment telling me to stop and smell the roses while you can before everything just flies by so fast that by the time you go to smell the rose, it's already wilted. I'm 18 years old, and the springtime of my youth is passing me by like a badly-aimed water balloon. Woe is me to the life of glee in which all things lead to the great nowhere of real life. I get four years of school before that real life gets a real crack at me (unless I go to grad school), and one of those years is already practically over! Woe! Despair!

...And I did not at all mean to go emo(tional) right there. My life is going great. Its legs are healthy, and there's still plenty of race left to run. It's just a bit daunting to think how fast the race is progressing. This is one race where I think I'd rather I was the slower participant. I have one more week of school, and then finals week, and that will be the end of my first real year of college. 

Crazy. 

Then it's a semester of work, work, and work. Hopefully. I'm sure I'll get a job somewhere. That El Toritos guy has been a bugger to get a hold of. Every time I've called him, he's been too busy to take a phone call. And then when I called the place this week, he's on vacation! Next Monday - next Monday for sure. That's when he gets back, and that's when I'm giving him a call. 

As far as school goes, I'm beginning to feel the end-of-year crunch. I have a grand total of 2 (maaaybe 3) in-class finals. While that's certainly a nice thing, I have a bunch of papers/presentations due this next week. 1 poetry presentation (that I also have to write up into a paper), 1 poetry analysis (in paper form), 1 10-page book analysis, maybe a take-home final that will likely be more rigorous and all around annoying than taking it in-class, and then the two in-class finals. Thankfully, those two in-class ones should be a piece of cake. 

Oh, and I'll also be reading one of my short stories to an audience. Should be interesting. On the one hand, it'll be a sort of performance, which will be fun, but I really don't know how I feel about reading my own work aloud. 

Next year's schedule is a bit wonky and all over the place, but I'll talk more about that as the fall semester nears. 

In TaeKwonDo last night, I got a fun crack to the jaw while sparring. Heel to the chin. Yes. It actually hurt to spit, but it was nice to know it didn't bother me at all. Sparring is fun. 

Speaking of which, I test for green belt in a week. I feel so accomplished.

Insert disjointed, vaguely-related paragraph here.

In other news, I'm seriously considering double majoring in English and History. After examining the History checklist, I've discovered I need 16 (maaaybe 17) classes to obtain a degree in History. So that's 3 semesters, which leaves me 3 more semesters to finish my general education and English. Absolutely doable. And to sweeten the dealio, there might still only be a semester here and there where I'd have to take 18 units. 

But yeah. This next week is going to be very busy for me. In fact, right now, I should probably be doing research for one of my poems. Until next time, Internet. 

Let's Try This Again

By golly by jimbo! How long has it been since my last entry here? Beginning of December? Golly geepers. So I'm sure everyone's still waiting with baited breath as to what grades I got. Yes, I'm sure. Well, in case you happen to wander through this empty banana peel of a blog, I am quite satisfied with the grades I received last semester. A's in everything except for Speech Composition/Presentation, which was a B (B+, but who's keeping track? =p). I wasn't actually expecting much better than that, as the Professor in that class was/is a very strict grader. I was very happy with what I got for U.S. History, though. I'm not sure if it's true, but I thought my grade rode on my final quite a bit. Do good on it, and I'd get an A, do bad, and it's a B. I got an A, and so I can only figure I did alright. 

As for this semester (which is practically already done. Tsk tsk to me), I'm taking Taekwondo again (but the ADVANCED class), Foundations of Literary Study (essentially an introduction to the English major. S'awright, I suppose. Dealing with literary criticism and stuff [not exactly something I used to place stock in {although that's changed somewhat}]), Survey of British Literature II (yay for getting to read poetry 'n' stuff!), Creative Writing Workshop (a lot of fun. Get to write short stories), New Testament Survey (Learning all about the history of it and stuff like that), and World Civilizations I (which covers from the 1600's [1700's?] back to the beginning of civilization). The classes are fun, and I think I'm doing pretty well in all of them. 

I'm just getting off Spring Break now. Flew out from Costa Mesa to Portland Oregon, had a 3 hour layover, from Portland to San Jose, and then an hour drive to Salinas. Spent a fun week with half the fam'. And now I'm waiting for my plane to board after a twelve hour layover in Portland on the way back. It wouldn't have been so bad if I had managed to get to sleep last night. I went to bed at about 9:30, tried to fall asleep until about 1:40, and then decided to just get up since we were leaving at 3:30. My flight left at 6 and arrived in Portland at about 7:30. 

And then I got to sit around and write for twelve hours. Wrote the first draft of my next short story, as well as finished the next post for the writing contest I'm currently in. Altogether it's about 4500 words. And I walked around and had breakfast/lunch/dinner, on top of other random things. I'm just glad Portland has free Wi-Fi. That was nice. 

But seriously, I seem to have a problem with traveling ever since I started college last fall. My first trip back home was over Thanksgiving. The drive both ways, usually 6-8 hours, was about 10 hours with traffic the entire way. 

And then for Christmas Break, the guy's car I was riding with needed its radiator replaced. We left at 6 (5?) in the morning, drove for about 15 minutes, pulled over to a gas station, figured out the radiator was bone dry, waited 1 1/2 hours for it to cool down, filled it up, went driving again, drove 5 minutes, saw the temperature skyrocket again, pulled over to the side of the Freeway, called roadside service, waited for 2 hours, and got towed to East L.A. We waited for an hour in the auto shop, they told us it would be another 3 hours, we went to the only safe place around (McDonald's! Oh joy!) that didn't have drug deals happening, and spent 3 1/2 hours in there playing cards and generally doing nothing. Finally, we got back on the road, and we drove pretty much uneventfully. We did stop at a gas station in the middle of nowhere where I think the employees go stir crazy from boredom. A big black guy saw my motorcycle goggles I was wearing, and said "Those motorcycle goggles! (me: Yup!) Dang! You gonna ride a motorcycle in flipflops! HaHA!" 

Yeah, it was an interesting trip that ended up being about 13 or 14 hours. The drive back was fairly uneventful, just for a change. Meanwhile, my parent's moved to Salinas to pastor a Vineyard church. We went there for my dad's dedication a week later, and amazingly got there in a reasonable amount of time. But that's apparently where my luck ended, because then there was this plane trip for Spring Break. Now, it wasn't necessarily bad or anything, because I can handle hanging out in airports, and it was cheap for my parents because they were using their airline miles, but 12 hours in an airport when you snatched 30 minutes of sleep on the way to the airport, and another 30 minutes of sleep while in the air, isn't quite as enjoyable as you might think.

Nevertheless, I managed to snag a booth in the internet cafe and hang out there for about 8 hours or so. And now I'm waiting for my plane to board, which it should be doing in about 30 minutes. Maybe I'll catch a nap or something.

So there you go. Or there I go. All caught up in an abbreviated version of my life. Makes it seem kind of cheap. And makes me seem rather brusque. But so's life. Huzzah. 

Indubitably,

Elijah

Finally, the Final Days

It's almost finals week. Hard to believe. Really it is. It seems just the other day that I was packing up to come down here to Vanguard. With loaded automobile we came, my parents and I. Without me they left, my parents. And now shall I return to them, one semester older - one semester wiser.

My feet are tingling with excitement. The wanderlust draws near, infecting me with the desire to skip classes and go dancing along the freeway. If only this week had been finals, I could be on my way away from this place with its food that draws comments such as "decent" or "meh". 

Alas, yet another week remains before the time will come. Yet another week, not of classes, but of exams. I am not entirely worried about this, as the majority of them will be no trouble. As a matter of fact, I'm actually completely done with my Psychology class as of this moment minus a day. Getting all A's on the previous exams really does pay off as I have been able to opt out of the final. And to imagine that this final would have been cumulative! mM heart breathes a sigh of relief. That is one bullet dodged. 

As for the rest of my classes, I must embolden my spirit and broaden my mind through studying. Preparations must be made. My Foundations of Christian Living class, I have discovered I have a 99% in it. With my trusty 3 by 5 card printed with 4 size font, I shall coast through the final at a pace akin to an elegant nightingale in midflight. My Data Analysis class shant go much differently. With a cumulative exam of fifty questions instead of the usual twenty-five, I have a bit more leeway in terms of errors. As long as I get a solid B, I should come out of the class with an A. 

The other night, a fellow student from that class noted I seem to have a good grade and asked if he could study with me when I studied for it. Poor fellow. I didn't have the heart to tell him I have never really studied for any of the other tests. I suppose that means I shall be studying at some point for Data Analysis. 

And then there's my history class. This is one exam I am a little worried about. I have received solid B's on the previous exams, and that, coupled with perfect attendance and extra credit quizzes, makes me wonder if an A is possible. Perhaps if I get a perfect score on the exam, there could be a chance. The one problem? The multiple choice are difficult, and the exam question needs to have a citation from the text book. With seven possible exams my professor might choose from, the odds of me being able to cite the textbook with a fact that we did not talk about in class are slim to nil. It's a pity, but a B may be my historical fate.

I've felt much the same about my Speech class until just recently. After receiving an A on my next-to-previous speech, and feeling as though my last speech was the best I've yet given, the question of whether or not an A might actually be attainable has begun to raise its glorious head. Perhaps if I do well on the final exam, there's a chance. Only time will tell.

Finally, there's my Fit and Well class. As of now, I do believe my grade in that class is an A. As long as I complete the final with some measure of competence, my grade is assured. 

I take back what I said about Fit and Well being my last class I need to talk about. There is still TaeKwonDo, but it slipped my mind as it's is practically over already. All that's left is to return upon the evening of next Monday to receive our promotions. If fate smiles pleasantly, I shall advance upwards to an orange belt. 

But for now, it is the weekend, and this beautiful day waits not for me. Next week may be finals, but now is the time for celebration and procrastination. 

Until next time, dear readers, oh ye few but faithful.

It could be Grease Lightning!

So yes, it has been nearly a month since my last entry, despite me saying I would post pictures right after Halloween. What can I say except NaNoWriMo consumed my life? Did NaNoWriMo consume my life? Yes, it did. Of sorts.

It all began that fateful night so long ago when a group of friends and I went trick-or-treating...

"It's the first time I've ever gone," I said, adjusting my Speed Racer helmet. 

"What? You've never gone trick-or-treating before?" My friends - aside from roommate Micah, who had also never gone - all looked aghast. I could practically hear their thoughts. What manner of person is this to have never gone trick-or-treating? Is he even human? What did he do on Halloween?

Oh wait. That last one was an actual question. "I handed out candy. We always thought it was great when not very many kids came to the door. All the more for us."

I could tell my friends were still having a hard time believing me, but I didn't care. We were going trick-or-treating now, and I was most definitely going to make the most of it.

After a brief drive, we all piled out of the car like so many lethargic adolescents before they've hit their sugar rushes. Carrying my Trader Joe's reusable bag, I fairly skipped up to the first door. The doorbell was rung, and there we stood, waiting for our first catch of the day. Shadows through the window - moving shadows. The door creaked open, and there stood a kindly-looking elderly lady.

"Oh! They're getting bigger this year." Her voice reminded me of an overripe banana. So sweet as to be almost sickly. 

Bite-sized cavities were dropped into our bags, and off we again went. It was truly a great night. There were even a good many people who managed to guess my costume - unlike last year. I didn't care though. In my two years of dressing up, I've never done it to impress others. 

Instead, fragile remnants of my childhood are reinforced by gaudy costumes that confuse many. My favorite comment of the night came from a very sweet couple: "Oh look! A football player." I just smiled and nodded. They were the hand feeding me, after all, and everyone knows what you don't do to that hand. 

By the end of the night, I had managed to fill my bag over half way with sweet, sugary goodness. In my mind, it was a complete success.

~ ~ ~

Later that night, on the way back from trick-or-treating, we decided to stop by the house of a very dear friend of mine. A party was being thrown, as is wont to happen at bachelor pads. Music was playing, and costumes were worn boldly. I could tell that here were people who didn't care what people thought. Or perhaps they only cared that people thought that they didn't care what people thought. Wrap your head around that one.

I hugged my brother, and he took pictures of my little group from Vanguard. It was quite the event. I'm glad we came. But then my brother and his girl vacated for another party. Since my friends aren't exactly the biggest party animals in the world, I decided it would be best to all head back to the dorm. 

And so we did, eventually dumping out our candy to sort into piles of what we did and didn't want. A major trading then took place. What I didn't want, one of my friends did, and vice versa. It was like a bunch of addicts in a field of poppies. 

Okay, bad analogy.

~ ~ ~

After the night had settled down a little bit, I realized it was nearing midnight, which would signal the beginning of an event so massive, I actually managed to involve another person this year.

Collecting our laptops into bags, my friend Chelsea and I headed out of the dorms to the Cove - a place free of smooth jazz, smooth drinks, and smooth talkers. 

Settling down, I opened a word document. It was 11:58. Only two minutes to go before I could begin unleashing my brilliant novel. I opened ITunes, turning on an internet radio station that plays nothing but soundtracks.

11:59

My fingers tensed, crooked just so to fly efficiently across the keyboard. I slowed my breathing. Must be calm. Must be calm.

12:00

And off I went! Words began appearing on the page as if by magic. A story began to reveal itself in all its nuances. We wrote and wrote for two hours until the place had to be closed up for the night.

NaNoWriMo had begun.

And since that day, all my free time - barring the time I spend hanging out with friends, eating, or just sitting there doing absolutely nothing - has been devoted to writing. As it stands right now, I am just past the 35k marker in words. This means the thing is practically over. The last 15k is always the easiest. It's the homestretch. The end is in sight, and you begin to go just a little bit faster. Success can be tasted, and it tastes delicious. 

Two nights ago, however, my flow was disrupted by Woo Fest here at Vanguard. Woo Fest is a night that happens once a year in which the men of Huntington Hall woo all the Vanguard women through song and dance. Our floor went first, and we put on a stellar performance involving dancing to Grease Lighting (See? The title isn't completely random yet!), a Justin Timberlake-ish dance, and a strip tease.

I was so lucky, I managed to be both a Greaser and a stripper. I got to gel my hair back. Boy, was that an experience trying to curl that one little lock in the front.

Someone on our sister floor videotaped the thing, and I have to say I am pleasantly surprised by the way it turned out. Heck, it actually looks like we put a lot of practice into the thing. Of course, you can't really hear the music over all the girls screaming, but I think the point gets across. I believe everyone should watch this video. If you're interested, just ask, and I'll do my best to provide the link. It's on a friend's Facebook, so I may have to try to save it to my computer first.

And that's been my life throughout November. 

Oh, and there's another ROC writing contest I'm thinking about entering. Application due date is on Dember 13, I believe. Wish me luck!

EJB out.

This Is Halloween

Halloween, halloween. 

And it's about time, too. Finally, I can justify wearing my Speed Racer costume, which is awesome. As you should know, I even have the red socks, even if you can't really notice them unless I pull my pant leg up. 

Last night, I got to give my costume a test drive. Vanguard was having a harvest party, and there was supposed to be a costume party. It started at 9:30, but I think I was in my costume by 5:30. Yeah, I was that excited. Once it was finally time to go, I went downstairs and joined the party. There were actually a whole lot of people in costume, and some of them were quite amazing. 

There was Fred Flintstone (my frontline leader who later changed into Birthday Bear), The Flash (with a homemade costume. It was stellar), The Green Arrow (also with a homemade costume), assorted other superheroes, Abe Lincoln, Aladdin (with fez), several Mario and Luigis, several Jokers, and assorted other costumed folk. And the cutest costume, hands down, had to go to this really young girl about 3 years old who was dressed up as Palin. She created quite the stir.

The party itself wasn't that great, although I did get to play DDR for the first time in who knows how long. So, once I was all hot and sweaty, I watched the dance contest (which, to be honest, wasn't all that great), then just sat around and talked. Buckets of fun, of course. I don't think a whole lot of people really know who Speed Racer is. Sure, there were quite a few who knew me, but just as many (if not more) who had no idea. Still, it's a step up from last year where only one person knew who I was without me having to tell him. I still give props to that guy.

And then they didn't have a costume contest! I was so...disappointed. I suppose it makes sense because of how many great costumes there were. And yet, when you advertise something, you don't just take it away! Blah.

Anyways, today being Halloween, I'm wearing my costume all day. I even went to Target wearing it. An employee walked around a corner, saw me, made an amused sort of snort, and kept walking. Yeah, you better keep walking, bub. 

As far as plans go for tonight, I might go trick or treating for the first time in my life. I'm also going to head over to my brother's house where he's hosting a party. Costumes encouraged. Oh yes.

And then! And then, after that, it should be close to midnight, and it will be time to start my novel. Woot! I can hardly wait. 

So that's my status as of now. Expect an update on my novelling progress sometime in the near future.

Hurray For Sunday!

I accomplished quite a bit yesterday. At least, I enjoyed myself quite a bit yesterday. For starters, I managed to accumulate nearly all my Halloween costume. All I need now is a yellow, iron-on letter G for the shirt. And maybe some shoes, although those aren't super important. 

When I first set about creating a Speed Racer costume, all I had for it were white pants. Then I finally caved in and bought the helmet off Amazon about a week ago. Well, two weeks ago. It arrived a week ago. That was a fun school day. Probably my biggest difficulty was trying to find red socks. Man oh man. Seriously, nobody had red socks for sale. It was like some kind if conspiracy.

In fact, it was a conspiracy. Those blasted shop owners heard tell of a man - a man who intended to dress up as the amazingly-awesome Speed Racer. And they were afraid. Naturally. For they knew their own costumes would then pale in comparison to the splendor and majesty that would be this Speed Racer costume. Yes, they were afraid to be overshadowed by the likes of a man - a man who intended to dress up as the amazingly-awesome Speed Racer. And they were afraid. Naturally.

And so, they came up with a plan. It was a dastardly, diabolical plan. They would take all of their red socks. They would remove all of those innocent, red socks who desperately desired to be bought and worn by countless children (and one college student) who would forever cherish and delight in wearing the fuzzy things. They would take these socks and dump them into a giant vat of bleach. 

And thus would these exciting stockings be reduced to dull, commonplace, white socks with no vigor for life. The lucky ones would retain a shade or two of gray, and perhaps a word that proclaimed their captors' names: Hanes, Wilson, and American Eagle. 

Thus were the red socks taken. And thus was the man's quest in vain. Far and wide did he search, but to no avail. Alas, he was too late. 

But then, a ray of hope! A thin thread of non-conformity wound its way to the man by means of a dear acquaintance. Maybe, just maybe, a stronghold of rebelliousness known as a skate shop might have a pair of red socks. The ray expanded, brightening the depressing darkness of perhaps having to resort to re-dying a pair of socks. This would surely be a most tedious process, and the man dearly hoped such a last would have no need of being resorted to. 

And so was a journey to a skate shop made. And then - bitter disappointment! Although mighty was the effort with which they fought, the skate shop was unable to stop the heinous sock-bleaching crew. Some socks managed to escape capture, but not without injury. Their once glorious, unadulterated cotton bodies were no longer the pure red of legend. Although patches of red still remained, the socks had been transformed into something different. Now, they were composed of a variety of different colors. 

The man knew this just would not do. To achieve the level of authenticity to make his costume a resounding success, he knew he needed a pair of socks that was nothing but solid crimson. Tears were shed that day.

And yet, the ray of hope, though diminished, remained. Those at the skate shop spoke of a fabled sanctuary of socks. It was a place where socks could live without fear of segregation or bleachings. This place was known as the Chalet of Sports. 

The man slapped his forehead in consternation. Of course! He knew the Chalet was no child's bedtime tale. For he had been there - or places akin to it - many times in his younger days; in the days when he participated in the noble sport of Baseball. 

And so, he left behind the ravished skate shop and journeyed onwards towards the Chalet of Sports. The way was arduous, and the march was long, but because of the faithfulness of his companion, the man made it unscathed. 

The crucial question was asked, and the answer was given. Yes, they still had red socks. A great shout arose, and the tyrannical shopkeepers quaked in fear. For they knew that their plan had been foiled. 

Thusly did the man complete his search. He was united with a pair of socks, boldly vivid in their coloration. While the shopkeepers yet reeled from the defeat, the man swiftly went out the very next day to collect the rest of his costume. And he did travel to the nearby Target. There, he purchased a white polo to wear beneath a blue t-shirt. And so also were yellow gloves obtained. And thus was a red shirt bought to be sacrificed into a scarf for the man's neck.

All throughout the land did the people raise a cry of triumph. And they did grow in courage, resolving to never let atrocities such as the Red Sock Massacre ever happen again. Greatly emboldened were they by the success of the man who dared to defy the Shop Keepers, and many were the praises ever more sung in his honor.

*ahem*

We also carved pumpkins last night at our college group. That was fun. Afterwards, though, we weren't really sure what to do with them. Perhaps dispose of them into the garbage? Maybe smash them on the street? Offer them to random strangers? It was a quandrary. 

And then, all of today, as I went about my business, I couldn't help but smile at the sight of a carved pumpkin nestled comfortably on the top of a campus lamppost. As it surveyed those oblivious college students that walked about mere feet below it, it gave a regal nod to those who were acute enough to notice. 

It's been there for at least a full day now, and I can't help but wonder who did it. After all, I clearly didn't do it, and anyone who believes otherwise is obviously delusional. Sure, it bears some resemblance to the pumpkin that I carved (which mysteriously disappeared), but it couldn't possibly have been me. After all, if I had done it, that would have meant I shimmied up the lamp pole, and then had someone hand the pumpkin to me. 

Pff, as if. 

I Guess I'm Smart

So it seems, anyways. My classes are going swimmingly. It's as if I'm running through a pool without anything in it, but I don't know it. It seems like it should be hard, but it's not. Take my psychology class, for example. I do practically no studying in it, and yet I've managed to get at least 100% on the first two exams. Does it have anything to do with the fact that the professor takes 95% of her questions from the study guide...? Okay, that probably has something to do with it. But, I'm somehow one of two people who got a perfect score on the first one, and the only one with 100% on the second one. 

Well, works for me, I guess. The best part is that if anyone has an A in that class by the time of the final, they can skip it. Hu. Zah.

I also had a couple other tests of sorts this past week. My Taekwondo test, which I passed. That means I'm a yellow belt now. It looks so much better than a white belt. Instead of just mayonnaise man, now I'm mayonnaise man with a dash of mustard. 

Eeeeeew. I don't think I like that analogy. 

Oh, and I also gave a speech on Wednesday. What class was it for, you ask? Surprisingly, it was for, of all things, speech class. Go figure. Anyways, it was a 5 minute informative speech, and I felt it went well (of course, that's what I said last time, and I got a B on that one. Hm..). 

Still working on my to-do list before November hits. I'd say things are going pretty well. To elaborate on what my story is, here is a possible plot synopsis you might find on the back cover:

"The monolith had always been there as long as anyone could remember - its rusted walls testament to the years it had weathered. But when a young squirrel hides inside it while playing hide-and-seek, everything changes. The monolith is taken away by giants, and it is up to the squirrel's brother, Speckle (name tentative), to search her out. His journey takes him on a quest to a city past the clouds where he uncovers a startling plot."

So no, no zombies in Neochina. Sorry. 

P.S. If you read this, post a comment! I suppose subtle hints just don't work like they used to. I'd really love to know if more than two people read this.

Things To Do. Urgent.

So, I'm going to try and update this every couple days. Maybe even every day. We'll see how that goes. And I got my Speed Racer helmet in the mail today! Way excited. I was going to make one for my Halloween costume, but decided this would be way easier. And it's a lot of fun to wear around my floor. Anyways, time to elucidate on my post title a bit. I have quite a few things I want to get done before November hits. Unlike Mr. Dent, I actually plan on doing them instead of setting them aside for a couple weeks. 

~ Finish my second reading journal for my foundations class.

~ Start my last reading journal.

~ Buy the rest of my Halloween costume.

~ Start my Psychology paper.

~ Do my first listening report for speech.

~ STEVE

~ Give my speech. Tomorrow. Ew. 

~ Probably other things that I'm forgetting, but I need to polish up my speech some. 

So ta! 

It's Time to Take Some Action, Boys

It's tiiiiime tooooo fooollooow meeeee!

Forgive my momentary lapse into Disney song. It won't happen again...okay, it probably will. Forget I said that. What set it off this time? Well, I needed a title for this post. That's what. 

How has it already almost been two weeks since my last entry? I think someone greased that wheel of time thingy. Nowadays, time just seems to fly by like there's no tomorrow - or rather, like it wants tomorrow to be today already. Jeez, what happened to stopping and smelling roses? I mean really. How uncouth.

Anyways, life goes on, the cafe food gets old, and I ride my bike. It's a lot of fun. Most anywhere I need to go is within four miles of campus. Oh, I also test for my yellow belt in TaeKwonDo tonight. That oughta be fun. Much more fun than giving my next speech on Wednesday will be. 

As far as schooling goes, I'm beginning to look to next semester and what classes I'll be taking. Thanks to the many classes I've taken at community college while in high school, I should be exactly a semester ahead. That revelation made me awfully giddy. 

Now, what else is happening? Oh yes! November is almost here (darn that wheel!), and that means NaNoWriMo! Woohoo! I'm so excited. This will be my second year of participating in NaNoWriMo. If you don't know what NaNoWriMo is, just add .org to the end of it and look it up. It'll explain itself much better than I can. And this time around, I actually have a friend who is doing it with me. Woo, go Chelsea!

Okay, I'm done. Let's go attack the castle now. 

Life is Good

And so, the wheel of time turns, and all who ride inside of it get dizzy. Some even wake up and realize they haven't updated their blog in nearly a month. And then they feel awfully guilty and worry that their audience may have drifted permanently away. After that, they remember that they quite possibly have no audience at all to begin with, and they're just writing out loud. "Oh, woe is us!" they lament. "If only people would leave a comment when they read our collective blogs. Then, maybe, we might have confirmation and be pushed to keep publishing new posts at more frequent intervals!"

Or so I sometimes conjecture. Of course, this situation is completely hypothetical and has no basis in reality whatsoever. Yes. Of course. Completely hypothetical. This isn't any kind of pseudo-subtle hint. Not at all.

What's that? How's my life been going? Oh, it's been swell. I've been doing lots of different things. One weekend, I went rock climbing in Joshua Tree with my brothers. That was buckets of fun. The next weekend, I got to see two dear friends get married, and everyone got to sigh with relief, grin, and mutter that it was about time. This upcoming weekend, I will get to celebrate my sister's ninth birthday with her.

And I will officially be twice as old as her. Let me just say that I've been waiting for this ever since she was born. I'm figuratively bouncing off the walls. Or rather, my mind is figuratively bouncing off the inside of my skull. All parts of it. 

The next big milestone is when she turns sixteen, and I'll be twenty-five. There's a certain neatness to those two numbers. *shudders* But that's years (seven of them) away, and I'll cross (and burn) that bridge when I get to it. 

In the meantime, I'll keep studying for school. Speaking of school, it's been going quite well recently. Finished the first bout of tests last week. I think the only one of my seven classes that didn't have a test in the past two weeks was TaeKwonDo. 

I certainly did better on some tests than I did on others, and the highlight had to be my psychology test. I received 106 points; perfect score and then some. I think mine was one of two such tests. Did I ever mention how much I love extra credit questions? 

So yeah, school's going well, and I already have some more tests coming up in a couple of weeks, so hopefully I'll keep up the studying. Lots of reading to do, and I mean lots. It wouldn't be too bad if there were twenty-seven hours in a day. But alas! It's not to be so. 

Oh, on another school-related note, I gave my first speech two days ago, and I think it went swimmingly. It was supposed to be three minutes, but the professor said he would start docking points the longer it went over, and that it should really be between two and a half minutes and three. So that was good. My subject was rock climbing. He also said that whoever went first would likely get a more lenient grade. 

So guess who went first? Oh yeah, you're looking at him. Or, er, reading at...him?

Anyways, in other news, I finally bought a bicycle, which made me super happy. Ever since I came to Vanguard, I've had everything I needed for a bike: baskets, gloves, helmet, light, lock, pump...heck, I even have goggles (which are very spiffing, by the way). All I needed was a bicycle. And now I finally have one. I bought it brand new from Target, but it was worth it. Now I can go on bike rides and go turn in a job application to the climbing gym a couple blocks away. Yup, I'm excited.

And another thing! I was in the school library the other day, and noticed a bookshelf with a delicious-awesome sign that said "free." I asked about it and - wouldn't you know it - all the books on it were free! To keep forever. And ever. 

I ended up walking away with eight new books. Way exciting. 

Now off I go to get back on that pesky wheel with those hypothetically-dizzy people who hypothetically like comments. 

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.