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.