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.