"My Boy Builds Coffins"

Hello there, Reader! Tired of tossing and turning in bed at night? Bored with traditional open-air beds, but find yourself at a loss of what to do about it? Wishing for a sleep so nice that it seems it could go on "eternally"? Well, then! Have I got a solution for YOU!

Build a coffin!

Rest In Peace. Every night.

Okay. So. Now that's that is out there, and you're face is all O.O, allow me to explain. (Did you see that? That was what we call an "Attention Grabber.")

AWESOME CHRISTINE and I watched a movie last night, and then hung out for a while, and I was all, "Y'know, I've secretly always wanted a coffin for a bed...isn't that really weird?" And she was all, "Srsly?...OMGMETOO!!" So I was like, "... ... ... Do you wanna help me build one before you move away and I never see you again??" And she was like, "Um, yes."

So we stayed up until three in the morning drawing plans and making lists of all the supplies we need. I got paid a bonus on my paycheck this week for Holiday pay, and decided that the extra money should definitely be used on this venture. So today, after I cashed my check, I took that extra money with me. We bought three huge sheets of ply-wood (and we were super picky because some of it was really knotty, which is like "naughty" but different), nails, Gorilla glue (which is definitely not recommended for use on actual Gorillas, if you like your face as it is), this really nice deep-burgundy satin, padding, and tacos. The tacos, however, are completely unrelated here.

Then we drove an hour to AWESOME CHRISTINE'S house to steal borrow the necessary tools. We couldn't find a real hammer to drive the nails, so we decided to improvise. (sledge hammer...) Still haven't got a sewing machine for piecing the fabric together, but we'll figure that out later.

In case you're wondering, "What the HELLLL is he planning on doing with a coffin!?" allow me to help you. Said coffin, in all of it's cushion-y wonderfulness, is going to be replacing my bed, because I've secretly always wanted a coffin. In fact, there were plans last year to build one, but they kinda sorta fell through, and now, finally, the plans are coming to fruition. And yes, pictures WILL be posted when the coffin is done. Right now, it's just a pile of wood with marker lines drawn all over it.

Anywho, that's pretty much all the interesting new fun stuff in my world right now. Oh, except for we gotted a kitteh, named Christine, because she's got a Phantom of the Opera mask-shaped patch of fur on the right side of her cute little non-deformed face.

Also, I'm totally skipping the whole "I should probably edit this post for clarity" thing, because I'm lazy tonight. Buh-bye!!

Concert...and the Trouble I Went Through To Get There

Today was brilliant. I'm just throwing that out there to start off. It's my "Attention Grabber," if you will. I'm hoping it makes the rest of this post sound nearly as exciting as it really is. :D

I started off my day by staying up until 5am. You may be wondering why. Oddly enough, I'm wondering the same thing. I was pretty excited to have tickets to see Stellar Kart and Seventh Day Slumber. Kiros was supposed to be there, too. I didn't really know who they were, and they ended up not being there for some reason.

Crawled out of bed a little bit after 3:00 in the afternoon. I tried to see if a few more people wanted to come to the concert, but, having no such luck, resigned to the idea of going by myself. I was NOT going to miss this!! I got ready for work and shoved a pair of jeans and an overshirt into my (awesome) green backpack and bounced merrily out the door with a cup of yogurt in my hands.

I worked from 4:30 to 6:00, ran into the bathroom there and changed and pretty much floated out to my car. It was at this point that I realized that it was about 6:15, and I still had no idea where I was actually going or how long it would take to get there. Fortunately, high class restaurants offer free wi-fi. I sat in the parking lot of the KFC next door and Googled a map. 35 minutes. From my house. I was about twenty minutes further than that.

"Okay. I need... Oh. I need a comb. Badly." There was no comb in my car. Run to Wal-Mart. Left Wal-Mart with two combs (You never know when you'll need back-up) and a Monster (because this Wal-Mart apparently doesn't carry Rockstar. Ew.) at lightning speed at approximately 4:30.

Twenty minutes later...and I'm lost. By this time, I'm on the phone with Devon, and I'm sure she thought my complete and total lack of planning in the Navigation Department was hilarious. I land myself in some dinky little town next to a large, gold SUV. Their windows were down.

Me: Hey. Quick question.
Driver: Yo, what's up?
Me: What town am I in, and how do I get to Kansas City? o.O
Driver: Get behind me and follow us. We headed that way.

Normally, this screams "DANGER: This person is going to lead you to an empty field and leave you for dead." This time, though, they actually took me exactly where I needed to be. I found the highway and was on my way again.

Only to get lost a second time, about five minutes later. Time: 7:04. Place: Kansas City International Airport's Marriot Hotel. ...how did I get here!? I had no idea, but I ran inside anyway, past a huge bus that was unloading a bunch of luggage. All I could think was, "I really need to get into that lobby to the desk before all of them do..." I made it. Barely.

Me: I'm lost.
Clerk: Okay. Where are you headed.
Me: This address. -hands over concert ticket-
Clerk: -prints out directions- You're only about ten minutes away.
Lady Behind Me: It's only about 7:00 now. You can make it!
Me: -swift walk out the door-

Anyway, I got there at about 7:15. I was hugged by the lady (Ashley) who gave me the ticket. She then took me into the auditorium and...over to the VIP seating area. I pretty much died. Front row, just SL of the stage. Not that I sit during any concert.

Stellar Kart was amazing. Like...brilliant. There was fist-pumping, headbanging...pretty much everything I love in a concert. And they were funny. Like...really funny. :D Between sets, I hit up their stand in the lobby and got a poster (which I had them autograph) and an armband. Yes, I splurged a little...I'm not ashamed. Oh, and also, this:

This was incredibly cool. Like...it's my profile pic on Facebook. That's how cool I thought it was. :D Ashley came over and kinda told them how I'd gotten the tickets after my little "Oh my gosh, I'm ringing up Stellar Kart's groceries!" thing...which totally happened. I'm definitely a fan of their music, and by sheer chance, the lady buying the water for their concert was in my check-out line. You'd freak out a little bit, too, I bet! 

I also checked out Seventh Day Slumber's stand, but didn't plan ahead, so I couldn't get anything. 

Between sets, there was a give away of a few things. I got a Switchfoot's "Hello Hurricane" album. And then Seventh Day Slumber came on. I managed to snap a few pictures of them, but the lighting made it a little difficult to do without flash, but the lighting was so cool I didn't really want to use flash. Flash pretty much always ruins live performances...

Joseph Rojas had...a pretty much amazing testimony to give. It really reminded me a lot of ConsuME, which I miss. I miss being on-stage doing worship. Okay. I wasn't on-stage at this concert, but I was really, really close to it. 

That grey bar there marks the first step of the stage. I was really, really close to the whole concert. The concert was...a blast. A really big blessing, and something I needed badly. The way these tickets came about and how perfectly everything came together was really, really cool.

I had to leave right after Seventh Day Slumber finished playing, because it was about 10:30 already, and I was afraid of getting lost on the way home. Which I did. I ended up on the other side of Liberty, Missouri. Twice. The 35 minute drive took two hours.

Today was awesome. Thanks, Ashley, for the tickets, and thanks to Stellar Kart and SDS for being there and just being awesome in general! God bless! :D

Most. Epic. Day. ...just sayin'.

So, earlier today, I posted "Today is pretty much the best day ever" as my Facebook status. Now, I'm here to tell you why.

Okay, so the last few days of my life have been a little bit stressful. Not gonna lie. Between money, missing friends from Branson, and just general little things that tend to cause small amounts of stress, as well as being surrounded by people who are stressed, I've been kinda moody. Not really moody. Just kinda "If I could get away with hitting you..." moody.

Today, though, was good. Nope. It was great. No, no, no. Fantastic. ...y'know what? Pick a positive adjective, and it was that. :D I woke up this morning and stared groggily around my disaster of a room before calling a few pawn shops. See, I've been trying to get rid of my PS2 for some time now. The problem is, pawn shops don't take them, because they're basically obsolete... Fortunately, I discovered the local GameStop. Sure, they really don't give you much, but it's more than the pawn shops.

Then I went to work. I thought I was going to be late, because I left GameStop at 11:41, and I had to be at work at 12:00, and it's about a twenty minute drive, and I still had to change when I got there. I got there and clocked in at exactly 12:00. It was beautiful. I cried many tears of joy. Not really.

Then, (and this is where it gets good) this lady came through my check-out lane. She was buying some stuff for "this concert we're doing." Of course, I love music. I love concerts.

Me: Yeah, what concert?
Lady: Stellar Kart and Seventh Day Slumber at Rock of KC.
Me: -bouncing- Oh my goooosh! I love them! I didn't know they were coming!
Lady: You didn't?
Me: No! It's tomorrow night?
Lady: Yep. You should come.
Me: I'm pretty sure I'm working.
Lady: Well, you should still put it on Facebook and let people know it's happening.
Me: Okay! I will!
Lady: I'll grab you a flyer and bring it back in.

Okay. Lady leaves. Five minutes later, she comes back with a flyer. "Here's the flyer. Oh, and here's two tickets in case you can make it." Pretty sure my jaw hit the floor. Yep.

Then I realized...I worked. :( But I asked a manager, and a schedule change was made, and tomorrow night I'm going to see Stellar Kart and Seventh Day Slumber and I'm so freakin' happy!!

I spent the next three hours of my shift in a state of ecstasy. Oh, yeah. It was pretty fantastic.

Yeah. That was my day. :D :D :D

Libraries and Assassination (Unrelated Topics, FYI)

Libraries are my favorite. Seriously.

I know a lot of people find stacks upon stacks of books to be completely boring, but I have to disagree. Sometimes, I have a pre-set subject I want to kinda research and look into, but not today. Oh, no. Today is the day of "Let's Go to the Library and Grab Whatever Looks Fun." So that's kinda what I did.

Thus far (and I still have more than an hour left to peruse), I've picked up The Amityville Horror, Handwriting Analysis, The Complete Spanish Grammar Review, Multicultural Cookbook for Students, Why Do Men Have Nipples: Hundreds of Questions You'd Only Ask a Doctor After Your Third Martini (which I picked up just because one of my roommates saw the book on Amazon and thought it was hilarious and almost ordered it), and a few pretty random DVDs.

At the moment, it looks like I might be learning how to prepare a dish for a Mexican family in a haunted house while wearing nothing but underwear. o.O The best part is, I'm still not done finding books. It's just gonna get more interesting! Hehe...

In other news, last night it was announced that Osama bin Laden has been killed. There was a huge gathering in New York at the site of the WTC when the news was given to us. Following is my thoughts:

I refuse to celebrate the death of any man. I find it cruel and unwarranted, regardless of the crimes he committed, masterminded, and was involved with. I find the celebration of death to be barbaric and infantile, and you can pretty much quote me on that. That said, I can rejoice, however, that justice has finally been done, albeit ten years later, for the victims of the 9/11 terrorist attacks. I'm relieved to know that he, himself, is no longer a threat to us or to anyone else in the world, despite the fact that I'd have preferred to have him captured and imprisoned for life.

Ezekiel 33:11 - "As I live, declares the Lord God, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from his way and live."

Okay. I'm done writing. There are at least twenty more shelves I haven't so much as glanced at! Buh-bye!! :D

Spontaneity (And How It's Hard to Find Sometimes)

I need a road trip. Travelling is probably one of my favorite ways to pass the time, and I tend to get to do quite a bit of it. Whether it's going to see my family, or just going somewhere to be with someone, it's one of those things I get a little thrill out of every time. I like stepping into the car and closing the door and knowing that I'm headed somewhere, and I'm not rushed to get there.

I like travelling a lot. Almost as much as I like Dunkin' Donuts. However, I don't like...tourism. One of the things that I can't stand when travelling is having a set itinerary. "At 7:45, breakfast at Dunkin' Donuts. 8am, leave Dunkin' Donuts. 8:30am, Arrive at Titanic Museum." Gag me.

I don't mind seeing the sites that everybody absolutely must see. Don't get me wrong. I love the view from the "Top of the Rock" at Rockefeller Plaza, and there's something undeniably cool about the Gateway Arch. But I like walking down the sidestreets, places that you really only see locals. I like jumping on the subway when the rest of the group goes shopping on 5th Avenue so that I can hang out outside the Blue Note Jazz club and push my ear up to the window with some drunken homeless guy. (That, by the way, is a true story.) I feel like you miss out on what makes an awesome place so awesome when you only experience the same stuff you can see on just about every movie that takes place any given city.

Of course, there's nothing wrong with a bit of that. I pretty much "Squee" every time I see a picture of the Majestic Theatre in New York, and I get a sense of wonder when I think about the Grand Canyon. (Although aside from the Grand Canyon...there's not really all that much to see at the Grand Canyon.)

That being said, I need to plan a road trip. I'm thinking about Branson, Missouri. I lived there for a couple years recently, and I have a lot of good friends still there. It's been a while, though, and I feel the urge to get back into my car and take off for it. It's one of those rare places that I actually felt at home. :) But you can be certain you won't see me in the house of the Baldknobbers' Theatre or careening down a slide at White Water (although, if it can be managed, you might find me at Silver Dollar City for an hour or two...).

The point is, Peticus needs a touch of spontaneity here. So, expect to hear about me travelling somewhere at some point in the next month or two. :D

This Post Contains T.M.I.

Initial Statement: I'm not a girl.

Expansion on Initial Statement: I'm glad I'm not a girl.

Explanation of Initial Statement and Expansion Thereof: To be explained in this blog entry! :-D

Okay, ladies and gentlemen, I have come to the conclusion that being a guy is just...well, it's easier. Why, you ask? Well, I'm so glad you asked. I'm going to take the time out of my busy, busy schedule (As in, I'm sitting here at the laundromat, bored out of my mind, and watching the rinse cycle just isn't amusing anymore...) and tell you a little story.

The other night, I was sitting at home with my roommates. As roommates are wont to do, we were talking. The girls started talking about their teachers, which I was totally left out of, because I didn't go to their school. Anyway, Roommate K said: "One of my teachers always talked about how he was on the swim team." This led into the fact that, when on a swim team, you shave. Everything. Your stomach, your back, and your legs, at least. "He used to tell us, at least every year, that every guy needs to shave their legs at least one time in their life. He'd say that you shave your legs, and then you crawl into nice, clean sheets, and it's literally the best feeling in the world."

Folks, I'm not stupid. But I'm not necessarily the brightest bulb in Home Depot. While she's talking, all I can think is, I wanna feel the best feeling in the world!! So of course, I pipe up: "I wanna try this!"

After a few moments of blank staring, we all go upstairs. I'm going to spare you a lot of the details, because frankly, you don't care, and I feel like it's borderline T.M.I.  You don't want to know about how I used an electric razor to get the hair really, really short first, then how I used a razor and shaved every inch of my legs, from ankle to upper thigh. These aren't details you need. ...wait...oh well.

Anyway, so I shaved my legs. It was weird. At first, they were hyper-sensitive. Everything kinda felt like a small electrical shock. I put my pajama bottoms on, and they drove me crazy, so I changed into shorts, which was still strange, but not as strange.

By now, you're thinking, "Yeah, all of this sounds pretty normal for when somebody shaves their legs for the first time." You haven't let me finish, though.

I woke up the next day. Went to work. About halfway through my workday, I start to itch. "This is normal," I convince myself. I get home, and I step into the shower, and my face does this:

"HOLY CRAP!"

I feel like I've just stepped into a very large swarm of angry fire ants and killer bees, who have teamed up to conquer and destroy a common enemy: my legs.

It feels like I'm on fire. The teeny tiny little particles of my leg hair apparently stood on end and saluted the worst case of razor burn in the history of shaving. My legs were covered in little tiny red bumps from top to bottom, front and back. I opened my mouth and said some rather obscene things, and waited for the pain to stop.

The heat of the shower helped...until I stepped out of the shower. For the next three days, my legs basically caught fire every time there was contact with clothing, or a small temperature change, or I yawned, or there was a breeze, or...pretty much anything you can think of. I tried lotion, I tried washing them more frequently, I tried ice packs; nothing work, nothing helped. If that's what Hell feels like, I'm so glad I'm Heaven-bound.

Anyway, the hair is growing back just fine now, in case you were wondering. I've learned my lesson, though, and I will never shave my legs again! -shudder- 

Things -Not- To Do In My Checkout Line

A Comprehensive Guide for the Common Fool Shopper

1. Do not tell me things about my job. I may look confused at the mango in my hand, but trust me: I know that it is a mango. I don't care how much it costs, I just care about punching in the number on the sticker. If I can't find the sticker, I will have to look up the number on the register. Have some patience, okay? (Fun Fact: The most common PLU number for mangoes is 4051...)
2. Don't tell me what a hurry you're in. I'm kind of asinine. When you inform me that you're in a huge hurry, my speed will slowly decrease. Intentionally. I won't say anything about it...but still.
3. Don't talk on the phone in my line. I won't talk to you. "Paper or plastic?" No. You'll get what we give you. If you try to multi-task and talk to me and the phone, you may rest assured that I will talk louder than whoever is on the phone. Not obnoxiously loud enough to seem rude, but loud enough that you'll be forced to keep asking the person on the line to repeat themselves. 
4. Don't answer your phone in my line. Seriously? See #3.
5. Smile. The first thing I do when you step up to my register is smile. I like it when you smile back. It makes me feel important, and, believe it or not, I am a rather crucial step to you leaving with the ingredients you need to make your lemon meringue pie. I'm very grateful to you for coming through my line; I like people, and I show it. So please smile, and make me feel good about helping you.
6. Feel free to call me by name. I have a nametag, and I secretly love it when people notice it. 
7. Strike up conversation. Guess what? I am interested. I love people; I love hearing their opinions and thoughts and finding out what makes them tick. I'll talk to you, too. It'll be fun!

Okay. I know it seems like it, but I'm not a horrible person. I just like common courtesy and respect, y'know? You'd be probably very surprised by how much of that you don't get as a cashier. I ask for two to three minutes to help you out of the store, that's it. Put your phone away and, if you must plaster it on, plaster on a smile. If you're having a genuinely bad day and simply can't, don't take it on me.

Like, the other day, I had stepped over to another register to discuss a schedule change with somebody and to buy a water. While I was away, a gentleman came up to my register. He waited no more than 15 seconds, I know. When I got to the register and smiled and greeted him, he kinda just stared. I was like "...okay..." and finished ringing up his items and sacked them. I asked him if he had his discount card with him.

Me: Do you have your shopper card today?

Guy: No, but I'm sure you do.

Me: Well, yes, I do have mine, but I'm afraid I can't let customers use it.

Guy: And why's that?

Me: Company policy. (gestures at sign about cards and policy and stuff) I can look up your card by phone number?

Guy: I don't have time for that. First, I had to wait for you to come over here and now you're telling me I can't use your card?

Me: Yes, I'm sorry.

Guy: That's bullsh*t. Total bullsh*t.

Said guy angrily storms over to customer service. Apparently, he had time to fill out the form for a new card and get it registered. Then he came back and yelled at me about it again, shoved his cart pretty hard into the middle of the lobby (not walked with it, shoved it on it's own...) and stormed out.

Common. Courtesy.

Overall, I love my job, by the way. Just sayin'.

Okay. So. I have this fun idea. Let me know what you think, okay? I want to start doing short interviews with random people. I'm thinking maybe people in nursing homes who don't really have family. Then posting the interviews here. Sound good? Lemme know.

Apple Products (And What People Do For Them)

At the moment, I'm totally sitting in a laundromat doing laundry. Next door is a Subway, from which I'm filching my internet access. :D

I was going to start out by saying that life has been fairly uneventful for the last couple of weeks, but then I realized just how untrue that is. It isn't uneventful; I've just kinda been too lazy to write anything! So, a quick catch-up, then.

The other night, I was sitting outside the Apple store at the Kansas City Plaza. The Plaza is this really cool downtown area that kinda reminds me of "Historic Downtown Branson," in it's own quaint little way. Anyway, the temperature was probably thirty degrees, and I was sitting there at about 1:30 in the morning. Why was I sitting there at 1:30 in the morning, you ask? Well, that's a pretty good question, and it has a pretty good answer. The iPad2 has recently been released, and while I hold no personal need for Apple products (probably because I've never owned one; I'm told when you buy one Apple product, though, you become addicted to the company, so it must be good), somebody pretty close to me absolutely needed one, and I, being the kind, generous person that I am, decided it would be fun to go freeze with him.

Freeze, we did. It was so cold. I had on a pair of jeans, two shirts, a jacket and a coat, and I was still cold. There was this wind that just wouldn't die. Skyler was wearing pajama bottoms under his jeans, two shirts and a pretty heavy jacket (definitely not a coat) and I don't understand how he didn't become a Skyler-cicle, because he's always colder than me.

Until about 3:30, there was only one other person there. He was this sleepy old Chinese guy who was propped up in the corner, sitting on a large black bag. Every so often, you'd hear a sigh and he would stir a little in his sleep. The sigh, unfortunately, was always followed by what can only be politely described as a case of very bad flatulence. :/ Ew. At 3:30, a bouncer from one of the local bars arrived with a Red Bull, which I kinda stared at with the desire that the Chinese man would have used to stare at a bottle of Beano.

More people finally started showing up around 6, after we had already been there for four and a half hours. The store opened at 8 (two hours early, thankfully), and they had only SIX iPads. Six. But Skyler and I were in second place, which made it totally okay. So he got his iPad (which I played with, and yes, it was really cool, and probably worth waiting for six and a half hours in the freezing cold for), and I got a sore throat and a case of the sniffles and fifteen minutes of sleep before work. But it's okay, because it was fun, if not a bit irresponsible. :D

Creepers Be All Up On Me, Yo

I'm trying so hard not to be mundane and run out of exciting things to talk about. That's not working out so well, because life seems to be at a bit of a standstill.

OH! But I do have one story to share!

Okay, so, I got the job working as a cashier, because I've totally worked with at least five different cash registers in four years and I have great people skills. This was also due in part to Aunt, who manages one of the branches.

One of the requirements for the uniform is a white, button-down, collared shirt. I have turquoise, green, and orange...but no white. So I was all, "Omg I love thrift storessss" and hunted one down yesterday. It's not in a shady area of town, per se. It's in one of those bizarre locations, though, where people drives Mercedes' on one side of the street, and people walk on the other. Y'know, like...this side of the road is lovely, and that side is creepy. Thrift Shop is, surprisingly, on the lovely side.

So, I go into Thrift Shop, and immediately locate men's clothing. They do have a lot of nice shirts, but none of them are white. They had a really nice red one that I loved, but I resisted. "I'm not buying aaaanything but a white shirt," I said to myself. ...my resolve fell apart, by the way, the instant I saw a collection of Shakespeare's work on the discount bookshelf, but that can be expected.

Anyway, I left Thrift Shop without the shirt (but with five plays), and decided it was time to find a Wal-Mart. Unfortunately, I couldn't locate one immediately. Fortunately, there was a K-Mart right there. Unfortunately, it was on the creepy side. I, however, was not observant enough to realize that this was so until I was in the store (henceforth know at Ghetto K-Mart).

I go into Ghetto K-Mart, feeling rather terrified, because I'm a small guy in an unfamiliar area of town in a Ghetto K-Mart. I find the shirt I need, buy it, and head out the door.

As I'm crossing the parking lot, I hear someone shout, "Hey, guy! Guy! ...girl?" At this point, I realized he was talking to me. Not because he said girl, mind you, but because when I turned around, he switched back to "guy."

He gets out of a big white creeper van about six parking spots away from where I'm parked. I'm just thinking "Whaaat does he want? ..." He crosses over talking about trying to find a Wal-Mart, but getting lost. Apparently, Ghetto K-Mart is the mecca for people who can't find Wal-Mart. I told him I didn't know where one was, but I could find out via GPS. I opened my car door, and safely placed myself between the door and the car, where I could duck away quickly. I'm not stupid...I do have some inkling of street smarts, thank you very much. I can also hold my own pretty well, but it didn't seem necessary.

I couldn't find Wal-Mart on the GPS, so I suggested maybe asking someone who was more familiar with the area. He didn't seem to interested in finding Wal-Mart. He was eyeing me and my car. He asked if I had a phone he could use, and I quickly changed the subject. "I'm sorry, I don't let creepers use my phone. I'm low on minutes, sorry." Then he starts talking about my car. I realized, at this point, that he was moving dangerously close to me, and kept talking, really fast. When he got too close for personal comfort with a complete stranger who drives a creeper van and kinda looks like he might be a serial killer, I played the "I'm sorry, I've got a job interview in a few minutes, so I need to go," at which point he backed off really fast, said his good-bye and watched me leave. ...creepily.

So, basically, yesterday, I almost got carjacked/kidnapped/raped/murdered/possibly-all-of-the-above. And I'm surprsingly amused by it. As I pulled out, I kinda laughed a little bit, like, "That totally just happened." And then I was like "o.O omgthattotallyjusthappened*shudder*" and went on with my day. Thank goodness for smooth talking and handling situations carefully, right? Right.

Jobs, Jesus and Hair (A Bizarre Combination)

Last night was ugly. I had a headache that simply wouldn't die and got kinda lonely and really depressed. Moving is stressful, and apparently it's a bit of an adjustment, which I was prepared for, so that's okay.

But today...today has been fantastic. "How fantastic?" I'm sooo glad you asked. Let me put it this way. Imagine you just landed on the moon (wearing the proper equipment, so you can breath and not die while you're on that giant space rock). Now, imagine that the moon really is made of cheese. No. Better yet, imagine that the moon is made of cheesecake. And you have a fork. That is how fantastic today has been!

For starters, I had my secondary job interview today, and they called me less than five minutes after I left to let me know I got the job! I start training tomorrow, and I'm just a little bit totally pumped. The pay is fifty-cents-an-hour more than most people who come in on entry level, because I have experience in cashier/customer service stuff. Who know working at Save-a-Lot for two years would have been such a huge blessing!? :)

Also, I'm pretty sure I found a church today, too, which got me all giddy inside. I checked it out this afternoon. It's Life Church, and the people there are great! I checked out their website, too, and they seem to be a really good, Bible-based church, so I'm really happy! I'll be checking out their Saturday night service on...well, on Saturday, I guess!

I have a hair appointment tomorrow, too. It's getting a bit bushy up there, so I'm gonna have to have something done with it, for sure. Hopefully it'll look fine; I usually have a terrible week after getting a haircut because it always looks a little bit ridiculous at first. We'll see!

ETA: Ozarks Christian News just published an article I wrote, by the way. It'll be on page 19 of the upcoming March edition, and you can check that out at their website!

ETA: Oh, and apartment shopping tonight. I have a good feeling about this one, just because today has been so spectacular.

Day 4 on the Unfamiliar Planet

Here I sit, in Aunt and Uncle's kitchen. Today was a good day. I'm learning my way around slowly but surely, despite the fact that even the most basic of directions from here to there leaves me completely lost. Fortunately, Aunt let me borrow her Garmin. Unfortunately, sometimes I ignore it and just explore, which does not help me find the desired destination. And then, sometimes, I just turn it off and wander about, and let serendipity take its beautiful course.

Which is how I found the library! I followed the Garmin to a thrift shop, because I had nothing to do today after my job interview, and I felt like a thrift shop would be a cool place. I secretly love them. They're so thrifty and stuff. So I went in and almost bought a dresser. I'm not sure if I need a dresser or not...but I loved this one. And when I left there, I went across the street to leech the Wifi from the McDonald's that was conveniently right there. As I sat in the semi-creepy and fairly deserted parking lot, I glanced up, only to see the local library! Which, of course, I immediately went to.

So, they have a really small theatre section. Really, really small. I thought that College of the Ozarks had a limited selection...but this was sad. However, they totally made up for it with stacks upon stacks of other great books, a decently sized media center and amazingly comfy chairs. I may be homeless, but at least I got a library card today, by golly! :D I checked out a book called Rat Bohemia, which is proving to be a really, really good fiction about a group of friends in New York.

I also discovered the joys of Panera today, and perused Borders. I came so close to buying the RENT selections piano/vocal book that it was painful! But it was like...RENT, or rent. Take your pick. Oh, responsibility, how you abuse me! But I still got a chai tea latte, and sat in Panera and ate a salad, so it's okay.

Job interview went great, by the way. The lady said she would hire me on the spot if a second interview wasn't a requirement. I expect to be working full-time by next week. On top of that, I put in a part-time application at a Dunkin' Donuts I found. I was so happy to have found it...you have no idea. The guy behind the counter seemed kinda hopeful about it, too, which made me feel good.

The Move (That Hasn't Really Happened, Kinda)

Okay! It's Friday, right? Right.

I got up at seven o'clock this morning, after only, like, three hours of sleep (which is funny, because I totally went to be early, and just kinda tossed and turned...and had bad dreams...), threw the remaining clothes in my car, and hit the road for Kansas City. I only had Act II of Les Miserables, by the way...which was great, but because I missed Act I, I was so lost I felt like I was in a Where's Waldo book. I had to go back by campus and drop something off for Devon, because I stole it last year (accidentally). And as I was leaving the building, I heard something all too familiar: "The Phantom of the Opera" film was playing in one of the classrooms. It was like a big send-off. I kinda bounced to my car!

Anyway, I'm here now, in my cousin's apartment, which she's cleaning while I just sit here like a hobo in the corner on my laptop, because I don't know what belongs to who, or where to pack stuff because none of it is mine, and I'm tired of packing, since that's how I spent most of the day yesterday. I did peel a bunch of Dora the Explorer stickers off the wall, and I accidentally almost ripped of her foot, which would have permanently ended her exploring career, even though we all know she doesn't explore anything very cool.

The duplex we were thinking about renting also fell through (SURPRISE), probably because I'm jobless and don't really have a source of income, even though I can totally afford the first month's rent, no problem. So I'm living with my aunt and uncle (so is Amber, the cousin who is currently boxing her belongings) for a week or so, although hopefully only a few days, because I really really really wanna get an apartment ASAP.

Also, I have a job interview Monday, thanks to my wonderful aunt, who is a worker of miracles and extraordinary stuff, and I'm pretty sure I'll get the job, because they are actually hiring and I am actually fantastic. So yeah.

Not "Meh." It's More Like ":)"

See that picture? The one on the right? With the adorable lolcat and the caption that says "meh"? That's how I feel sometimes. But that's not how I feel today! Today, I'm all smiley and stuff! For no apparent reason! Isn't it delightful!?

Anyway, I've spent the last two nights hanging out at my old college. The first night (Monday) was Women's Open House, which is the only time men are allowed in the women's dorms, because that school is super strict, and not very college-like, to be honest, but...I'm not going to tear down the school right now. It's not relevant to this conversation. :)

Anyway, last night, I went back to the school, because I wanted to go to the library. You see, I've never listened to Les Miserables. At all. And last night, I realized...I've had access to it for, like, two whole years and I never really thought about it because I just never really thought about it for no reason whatsoever! So I went there, to the library, with my friend Derek K. And I grabbed two blank CD's out of my car, and we went inside. I got to see a super cool person named JORDAN while I was there (who doesn't read the blog, but I'm gonna say "HI JORDAN!" to her anyway) and we went downstairs, where the Media Center is.

I used to work in the Media Center. It was fantastic, because they gave me POWER! I was one of the few, the proud, who had access to the keys that held all of the Audio/Visual equipment. Nobody was allowed to touch it without going through me! Even the professors. That's right.

Anyway, we went downstairs, and I had just enough to time to rip Act I of the Original Broadway Cast. I'll be going back to CofO tonight for Coffee House, so I'll get the other act tonight. Plus, I left Act I in a dorm room, so I need to get that, too.

Basically, I'm moving on Friday. We ddn't get the house, though, which made my little heart all sad and stuff, but we might be able to get a duplex, which is cool, because I can harass the neighbors by pounding on the adjoining wall I don't mind close neighbors. I'll be in the car for 8 hours on Friday. So I needed some new music. And everyone seems to think I really need to hear Les Mis. Also, "I Dreamed A Dream" played on Pandora, and I fell in love with it, anyway. I'm pretty excited for the move, and (aside from actually having a place to move into) everything has fallen into place. ...although having a place to live is kinda the point of the move, but...whatever. :) I'm still all smiley and not "meh" at all.

I Died A Lot

First, an apology, because I haven't posted anything in a few days. Sorry, but...frankly, not much has been going on that could easily fit into a blog entry. And if it could be fit into a blog entry, it was terribly boring. Nobody wants to read "Yesterday, I watched 3rd Rock from the Sun for three hours." But I do have a fun story to share now!!

Yesterday, I spent the evening being murdered in the Jones building at my old college. Jones is a pretty big building, three floors, with several classrooms and (my personal favorite feature of the building) the Theatre dept.  While there, I was brutally murdered three times. I was left lying in the hallway once, lying on the stairs the second time, and the third time, my poor body was discovered in the lobby.

Live Mafia...such a fun game. Basically, it's like Mafia, but you play it across a building. The townspeople and the "Mafia" actually walk around the building freely, the Mafia striking (hopefully) unnoticed. When a "body" is found, the lights are turned on and there's a meeting of the "Townspeople" (everyone who is playing the game and hasn't been killed off) to try to figure out who did the murder. Whoever is accused is killed off by the townspeople, and, in the event that said person wasn't the Mafia, the game continues until the Mafia is caught.

So basically, I spent the evening dying. The first time I kinda saw it coming. I was down the stairs towards a guy (Derek S.), and he'd been playing "innocent" really well during the meetings. ...Yeah, he killed me. Totally unforeseen. I was all "OMG IT WAS HIM!?" And then I fell over and just kinda lay there for ten minutes.

The second time was completely unforeseen. I was walking with Melissa and Derek S.

Me: I feel safe this time. The likelihood of you getting the Mafia card twice in a row...not big.

Derek: I'll kill you faster this time.

Melissa: *death glare*

...Melissa killed us both on the spot. In front of everyone. And nobody saw it until we both hit the floor. I was brutally slain, without hesitation, by what appears to be a nice young lady...but she has a vicious side, apparently. o.O

The third time was just too sneaky. I was walking with Chad Mann, and everyone suspected us anyway, so we were just kinda goofing off, scaring people. This went on for, like, ten minutes. We creeped up on Amanda and backed her into a corner. She was all, "Ah! Don't do that! It's creepy!" *slice* Totally unforeseen. She lured us falsely into a jovial time, and cut us on the spot. I promise not to make swearing a habit on the blog, but frankly, I was like, "What da hell jus' happened!?" Then I died.

Anyway, for all you CofO people who read this, Live Mafia happens every Saturday on Campus, sometimes in the Chapel and sometimes in Jones. Talk to Derek Stevenson for details, because it's freakin' amazing, and if I weren't planning on moving Friday, I'd totally be there this Saturday too.

Give Me Cookies, or Give Me Death

Contents: Pure Bliss

Today, I went to the college I used to go to, because I had to check my mail and sent out the rent application to the house I'm planning on moving to. And I went to the post office and...THERE WAS A PACKAGE FOR ME!! :D I picked it up and bounced gleefully on out of the Post Office and into my car. Getting a package in the mail is like a random Christmas, except without the creepy mall Santas.

-----
Creepy Mall Santa: Hello, little child.

Little Child: ...MOMMYYYY!!!
-----

And on the way back to the house, basically continued bouncing because good music was playing...but I digress.

ANYWAY, I got home and did several backflips (figuratively speaking...) into my room with the box in my hand, and promptly sliced it open, and flung the contents onto the bed. What I saw there, lying on the comforter, made me shriek with giddy joy! (See right)

Now, to the untrained eye, this looks like food. But this...this is so much more than food. There is sugar, and peanut butter and granola bars and chocolate and oatmeal cream pies and green tea.

 But, to be honest, everything but the peanut butter and the sugar went completely ignored for about an hour...because something else was included in this box of happiness: a recipe for my mommy's peanut butter cookies. It was a crazy, happy hour in my day, because I made these:

And those delightful, fantastic peanut buttery pieces of Heaven made me smile. ...like this:

"There Will ALWAYS Be Women In Rubber Flirting With Me!"

Right now, I have coffee, a huge recliner, and nooothing to do. It's wonderful. I'm watching Rent: Filmed Live on Broadway (which explains the title of this post) and perusing the lovely interwebs. This is a fantastic evening.

It wasn't supposed to be like this, just so you know. I actually had a coffee date tonight, but that ended up getting postponed, so I watched Glee.  I hadn't planned on watching Glee, coffee date or no coffee date, because "Glee catches Beiber Fever!" was mentioned on the commercial for tonight, and...I do not have Beiber fever of any kind. In fact, he kinda annoys me...but that's not important right now.

Anyway, my friend Derek called me at around 7:30.

Derek: Are you watching Glee!?!?

Me: Nope. Justin Beiber...meh.

Derek: Yeah, they did Beiber, but watch iiiit!

Me: No.

Derek: YES!

Me: Nooo.

Derek: THEY ARE SINGING TAKE ME OR LEAVE ME!

Me: OMGOMGWHATCHANNELMUSTSEEEETHIS!!!

So I watched Glee, and Rachel and Mercedes were all like " *BOOM* TAKE ME FOR WHAT I AAAAAM!" and I was all "YAY!" and I bounced up and down like a four-year-old child for a few minutes and decided not to completely hate Glee just because they did Justin Beiber, because I totally missed that part of the episode anyway, and they also did My Chemical Romance, so I was okay in the end. (Note: Thanks, Derek!)

Anyway, after Rachel and Mercedes were all like " *BOOM* TAKE ME, BABYYYYY" I was all..."I must watch Rent. And I must do so...NOW!" This is because of my short attention span and the fact that sometimes, when I hear a song from a musical, I'm overcome with insanity until I watch the film version or listen to the soundtrack in its entirety. ...it's a theatre-junkie thing.

So I made coffee, because I was supposed to have coffee tonight anyway. And I added milk and sugar and, just because we have it, a little bit of chocolate syrup, and now I'm just chillaxing, because I'm cool like that. Coffee...Rent...life is beautiful. :)

The Super Creeper: Slender Man

Okay, so Slender Man is this new(-ish) urban legend that came about from an online photo-manipulation contest. Competitors were supposed to take an ordinary photo and make it kinda creepy. One guy put a very tall man-thing in the background, in the shadows, wearing a black suit, and created a backstory for the anomaly that would soon become The Slender Man. An entire Internet meme was born from this one set of photos, and let me just say that it was creeeeepy. I'm a little bit behind in the times, apparently, because I guess this isn't a new thing; I found out about it on a forum I'm a member of, but it's a few years old.

That's one of the original photo-manips. Notice the tall, faceless figure in the background. That's right: You never see his face. Ever. Because apparently, he doesn't have one. But he does have these freakin' crazy Dr. Octopus tentacle things that come out of his back to help him catch people. And they're stretchy! So are his arms.

Anywho, MarbleHornets on YouTube started releasing videos on their page. It started with an introduction, and became a documentary. A creepy, creepy documentary. Well, it's actually a "mockumentary," because it's completely fictional, but still. Anyway, I like it enough to share it with you people! Check it out! Right now, there are about 35 videos, but each one is only about two minutes long (with a few rare exceptions), and they're amazzzing.

Oh, by the way...it's best to watch the videos late at night. When you have to go outside soon...by yourself. :)

"LOL," "Haha," And Other Useless Phrases

Come on, people. You're killing the English language.

I admit that I do things sometimes would make my high school English teachers attack me, but I also don't think it's quite the same thing. For some reason, chatspeak makes me want to kick a cinder block. However, I'm fully aware that taking such an action would only result in a broken toe, and people would continue this terrible act of linguistic abuse. As such, I'll just write about it. It's much less painful, even though...people will still continue this terrible act of linguistic abuse.

For starters, it doesn't further the conversation. If that's really all you have to say...don't say anything. It's an unnecessary statement that only annoys the people you're saying it to. When I get a Facebook notification, it'd be nice to see something that actually relates to the topic at hand, or at least keeps the conversation going. Nobody is stimulated to carry on by "lol." (Though I admit that, most of the time, nobody is stimulated to carry on without "lol," either...)

To that, I'll simply add that it's hard to hold a conversation with someone who has nothing else to say but "lol." As I said above: If that's all you have to say, don't say anything. (I know this comes across as a bit haughty, but..come on. Think about it for a few seconds: doesn't it drive you crazy to have three or four notifications that simply say "hehe"?)

Some of you will substitute "haha" or "hehe" in place of an "lol." This is acceptable, but...not always necessary. Sometimes, it's better just to either leave it alone, or note your amusement through context. Or smilies. Smilies are a completely acceptable form of voicing your emotions. ...unless you abuse them, in which case you can count them on the "PleaseStopKillingMyLanguage" list, too. If you can't note said amusement, one of those phrases can be included, but...never by itself. 


The occasional chatspeak is acceptable. But sometimes, it just pushes the line a liiiittle too much.

In closing, I'd just like to say: lolroflcoptergoesswahswahswahswah

At Least I Can Still Hear...

I got my ear pierced on New Year's Eve. I was going to get both pierced, but it would have been expensive, and on top of that, I really wanted to leave one for my brother-from-another-mother to do. Anyway, that's been a little more than six weeks ago, right? Right. The piercing guy said it should be healed in about six weeks.

Today, I started bouncing up and down when I remembered the earrings I bought from Hot Topic. (I love that store. Some people love puppies. Some people love chocolate. I love Hot Topic. ...and chocolate.) I got excited and couldn't wait to get home from Church and change my piercing out. I went bounding into the bathroom sink like a golden retriever after a bouncy ball, washed my current piercing, and untwisted the ends of the earring I was wearing. It slid off sooo easy, it was like someone had buttered it. I sanitized the new earring, and put it in the front hole...

...only to realize that I couldn't make it come out the other side. A shocking realization came upon me at that point. I stared in shock at the mirror for a few seconds, the piercing half-dangling from my ear, and heard the scream echo through my mind: "OMG IT'S NOT HEALED YET!" followed immediately by a verbal "OW OW OW!"

I ran into the living room in a state of panic. "Female Tenant! Female Tenant, heeeelp meeee!" This was, of course, said in the most brave voice I could muster. I was, by this time, a little queasy... She couldn't help me, though, because she's actually sick, and didn't have the stomach for it.

Bravely, I ran back to the bathroom to try again. This time, I noticed something that made my stomach do flips: blood. Now, I really don't have a weak stomach, but this was just wrong! Blood should never come from an ear! At this point, I was growing desperate.

Further horror ensued after I went to Landlord.

Me: Hey, Landlord...how do you feel about shoving a sharp object through my ear?

Landlord: Yeah, I can do that...

-Ten Minutes Later-

Landlord: Yeah...I can't do this.

Fortunately, there was another female at the house, just by chance. Landlord got her attention. I helped.

Me: Hey...you're a girl, right? FIX MY EAR!??

Which she did with no problem. I don't understand what kind of witchcraft helped her, because nobody else in the freakin' house could figure it out. I guess it needs a few more weeks to heal. We'll try again in November.

It's About Phantom, So It's Long...

Today, I'm suffering from Writer's Block. So I figured I'd just talk about a minor obsession. I like movies...probably more than most people. As in, some people are content to watch a movie once. I've seen a few movies at least twenty times, and one movie in particular I have seen (exactly) 47 times. That movie is Phantom of the Opera. I've actually seen four or five different versions of Phantom of the Opera. I've also read both of the major novelizations (The Phantom of the Opera, Gaston Leroux; Susan Kay's Phantom). Now, in all likelihood, you're thinking "Yeah...that's a little bit much." I know. It's intense.

By the way, you should listen to this while you read. It'll set the mood. :D

So, why Phantom? I'll be honest: I'm not sure. The first time I was exposed to it was (I believe) January or February of 2005. It was the film version, still in theaters, and I was in my Freshman year of High School, and my choir teacher (a wonderful lady) mentioned going to see it with the class. I wasn't really all that interested, and forgot about it. So I showed up at school one day, and the entire choir was sitting in the lobby waiting for me. They were all "WHERE WERE YOU!?" And I was like "...?" Apparently, everyone was waiting for me to go on this trip I had totally forgotten about, but I was excited for two reasons. First, I was getting out of my morning class (I'd do anything to skip math...) and secondly, I love horror films, and a free horror film was brilliant, in my opinion. ...However, it turns out that Andrew Lloyd Webber's Phantom of the Opera wasn't actually a horror film. It was a musical.

I didn't know this, and my excitement level dropped considerably when I realized this. I was not a musical person then. I mean, I loved music, and I was a singer...but theatre was a completely new concept to me, and musical theatre struck me as terribly boring. It dawned on me, as the Overture started, that this was not going to be anything like I had expected. By the time the film had made it through "The Music of the Night," I was hooked. My poor teacher had no idea what she had started in me.

A few months later, my sister (who was only, like, ten at the time) went to a yardsale down the block and bought a few CD's. She happened to randomly buy a CD that further increased my obsession: Sarah Brightman's Encore. Track 4 on that particular album is "Think of Me" from Phantom. I had it memorized in a matter of hours. A few months later, I purchased the 2004 film soundtrack, and had the entire film committed to memory soon. I joined a Phantom of the Opera site in September '05, and I got the movie for Christmas in 2005. It ran on loop in my room for a few weeks.

Later on, I found out that the musical was based on a French novel by one Gaston Leroux. Turns out that the tiny library at my school had a copy of it. I read it. I read it again. On top of that, I watched the 1925 Lon Chaney silent film, and then got my hands on a copy of Kay's Phantom thanks to my friend Terra.

The day before my 18th birthday, my parents took me to the Tulsa Performing Arts Center to see the Andrew Lloyd Webber stage version (Richard Todd Adams as the Phantom, Marni Raab as Christine. I don't remember who Raoul was...don't get me wrong, I lover Raoul, but I can never remember who plays him....with the exception of Patrick Wilson, 2004, because he was astounding). I'm pretty sure Dad fell asleep, but I was on the edge of my seat. I saw it again last Spring on Broadway (John Cudia, Marni Raab).

Anyway, Phantom was the start of my interest in theatre. It's also been the start of a lot of great friendships (that website, y'know...) (including the fabulous Darcy, who I'm totally married to on Facebook, because she's splendid). I've seen ALW's version exactly 50 times (2004 film and stage show combined) and I can't count the number of times I've listened to the OLC recording.

Obsession? I think so, but it's lovely, so I don't mind so much. Plus, backstage areas aren't creepy anymore! Actually...they are, that was a lie. But whatever. [/rant]

Productivity (Part II)

I think all of this productivity is going to my head, makin' me just a little crazy... Not like "I MUST FREE THE ZOO CRITTERS!!" crazy, but a little bit "off," if you get my drift.

Today, I was looking for cleaning supplies, kinda running an inventory to figure out what the boarding house needs in order to be not gross. So I opened the cabinet under that bathroom sink, revealing....a Clorox Toilet Wand...with refills. Most people (typically myself included) would be all "Okay, cool. Mark the toilet de-nasty-ifier off the list." I, on the other hand, got so excited that I actually did a little happy dance. Like that picture over there...without the carnivore.

Anyway, I've pretty much decided to make it my job to keep the house in shape. Everyone else works, and I'm, er..."between jobs," so hey, I might as well do something, right?

Nights in the boarding house are fun, though. We have a couple of new tenants. I like this, because it means that I'm not the only tenant anymore. And it's a lot of fun. I've never played so many card games in my life! I'm a big fan of the game "BS." You know which game I'm talking about, right? If not, you should definitely Google it; you're missing out.

It's really fun with gullible people...

Me: -lays down two 5's- Two 5's.

Girl: BS! ... ... AGH!!

Next Person: -lays down three sixes- Three 6's.

Girl: BS!! ... ... ...AGH!

She had almost the entire deck by the end of the game...poor thing. Oddly enough...she never called BS when I actually was being all sneaky and deceptive and stuff. Silly girl...hehe...

... ... Toilet wand. :D

Productivity

-Not- a Picture of Productivity. . .

Do you know what I just love? No, probably not...so I'm gonna fill you in. This may come as a surprise, but I love productivity. Despite the fact that I went to bed at around 3 (because I discovered the (slightly illegal) joys of VisualBoy Advance), I was up and bouncing at around 10. Quick shower, and the day began. As Landlord was leaving, he was like, "Hey Pete, I'm gonna put you on floor duty today!"

"Okay! No problem!"

So I vacuumed and swept the living room and kitchen.

And then swept the bathroom.

And cleaned the bathroom top to bottom and did dishes and washed laundry and took out the trash and shoveled part of the driveway (some of it is still frozen solid...). I've only been up for, like...three hours. I feel all productive and stuff. Well...I did. Now I'm blogging. And Facebooking. Not exactly productive, but...hey, I deserve a break, right?? :)

A New Adventure

OH! A house! A hooooouse!! In a Kansas City suburb. I'm so freakin' excited it's not even funny! I'm moving on February 25th, which means that I'll be headed out of the boarding house. It's been fun, but...I need a new adventure. Like, seriously. And living with my amazing cousin (Aaaaamber) and Kindre (who I am sure is also amazing, but I have nothing to confirm this, as I have never actually met her in person).

Floor Plan? Yes, Please.

Anyway...This is the floorplan. It looks like, judging from what I was told, I'll be in the upstairs bedroom, the one on the left-hand side. Look! We have a back yard!! With a SHED! Do you have any idea how cool that is!? Think of all the cool things you can keep in a shed! Shovels and mowers and the bodies of shady neighbors such!

There's this cute little side-porch thing, too. It makes me smile! So. 15 days. In that 15 days, I need to finish my job search, or at least get closer to being finished than I am now. I make calls, but...I'm not really gettin' anywhere.

Also, I had my weekly splurge today. I went out for coffee with a friend, and it was delicious, and may also explain why I'm kinda bouncing... I do love caffeine.

And in case you were wondering, my Wartortle from the all-nighter finally evolved into a Blastoise. He's a beast, and I'm gonna use him to totally dominate the Fire-type Gym on Cinnabar Island. And Mew has hit Lvl. 40. He's delightful. Yeah.

I'm surprised that I'm actually still playing Pokemon. I had kinda only expected it to be for the all-nighter, but now I'm a bit hooked. Gives me something to do with all of my over-abundant time. (That's right. I have free time. Be jealous.)

Driving

It has come to light that my driving is...nothing short of terrifying. I kinda resent this, just a little. See, I've been driving for over six years, and, like most people who drive, I've developed a very specific way of doing things. Perhaps if I explain a little bit about my driving, it'll help to ease the sheer, pure, unadulterated horror my passengers feel. ...or maybe it will affirm their fears... Without further hesitation, I present: 

"Rules That I Made Up and Laws I Don't Follow"

A Work of Incriminating Non-Fiction By Pete

Firstly, anyone riding in my car should expect a few things:

1.  To buckle up.
2.  To know the location of the so-called "Oh Crap!" handle.
3.  To know how distracting yelling can be.

If you don't buckle up, you'll regret it almost instantaneously. As we go careening around the first corner, you will want to grab the Oh Crap! handle. Buckling up will help keep you off of my lap and within reach of that handle. Also, yelling may result in minor road rage.

Rules I Made Up:

1. Don't Pull Out In Front of Me and Actually Do The Speed Limit. I go over by at least 5mph most of the time, and you are slowing me down. It's very uncool, and it makes me sad.
2. Right On Red is Enforced. I don't want to wait behind you. If I'm driving, I probably want to reach my destination with much haste, and you are slowing me down. It's very uncool, and it makes me sad.
3. Use Your Blinker Wisely. Please don't hit the brakes and turn your blinker on when you're still a full 30 seconds away from the corner that you wish to turn on. It's misleading, because there two more turns between where we are currently located and the turn you are going to take. You are slowing me down. It's very uncool, and...well, you get it by this point.
4. At All Gas Stations, Pump #7 Belongs to Me. That is all for this point.
5. Please Refrain From "Tailgating." In fact, don't follow me at all. When I'm being followed, I actually slow down and force said follower to pass me (if we are the only two people on the highway). For some reason, it just really makes me paranoid, so don't pull up behind me and then slow down. I feel bad when you do that. I feel like I'm slowing you down, which is very uncool, and probably makes you very sad.
6. I Retain Rights To Follow You. That's right. Rule #5 doesn't apply to me. Deal with it!

Laws That I Don't Follow (All the Time):

1. Speed Limits. Yeah, I know: Nobody follows speed limits. Yeah...but I really don't follow them. If I'm in Branson, it's a bit different. Police like to hide here, waiting for unsuspecting 20-somethings. Outside of Branson, the speed "limit" is more like a speed "guideline."
2. Those Little Signs Before Curves That Say Things Like "Curve Ahead 30MPH." That's ridiculous. As a general rule, I take curves at X+20=My Speed when 'X' is equal to the limit MPH on the sign. So if the sign says "Curve Ahead 30MPH," you may expect me to take that curve at roughly 50MPH.
3. Stop Signs. I stop at a lot of them, but let's face it...most of them are kinda like "Yield" signs...not completely necessary, but there anyway, letting you know that you should probably look around.
4. Drive With Your Shoes On. I'm sorry, but I don't understand why it's totally necessary to have your shoes on while driving. They're uncomfortable when you're driving for 2+ hours, and I'm taking them off. (Note: I do keep a pair of slip-ons under my seat, in case I get pulled over and they want to make sure I'm wearing shoes. I'm sure that law is important enough that they check, right??)

This has been "Rules That I Made Up and Laws That I Don't Follow." Thank You.

Having said all that...I am an excellent driver. The trick to driving is knowing what you're doing and being able to watch and predict what other people do. And, if you were wondering, my accident rate is 3 accidents in 6 years. The above is a tried-and-true method. :) ...Some of you will never get in my car now, I just know it...

A Penny Saved...

I have a minor problem: I like to spend money. Currently, I'm living in Branson. In less than one month from now, I'll (tentatively) be headed to a new city. An odd and slightly alarming realization has settled in on me, though: this requires me to save money. "Save! But that's, like...like, the opposite of spend!" I know. Scary, huh? (Well, not really. The opposite of "spend" is "gain," but let's not get into technicalities, okay?) This is not something I am good at, as anybody who knows me will testify.

In fact, ten minutes ago, I nearly made a crazy-random impulse buy on Amazon. Sure, it was only $7, but that's $7 that I didn't need to spend! I have to have a set sum of money by the end of the month...and this can only happen if I start using something that I really don't have much of: self-discipline.

That said, I need to stop spending money!!

That...is not nearly as easy as it sounds. In a world where a gallon of gasoline costs three dollars (or more...meh), this is actually a giganitc feat. Especially for somebody like me. I don't need to buy a new book. Solution:  Steal it. Don't buy a new book!

I like to drive. In fact, I love it. But it's costly, and I do it way to much. Gotta cut it down some. I spend about thirty dollars a week on gas. Thankfully, as you know, my car isn't going anywhere right now. The snow has made sure of that. This whole "omg-can't-drive-gotta-save-money" thing will become more of an issue after the snow melts away.

Hanging out with friends? An absolute favorite pastime. This, I can do, but I have to find a way to do it that is free, or at least really, really cheap. Movie nights are an excellent alternative to going out for coffee. I've been to Denny's three times in the last week. At least fifteen dollars, altogether.

Another thing: I'm a smoker, but I'm not addicted (yet...). It's five dollars for one pack of cigarettes. Anybody who has ever smoked can attest to this: one pack doesn't last long. I usually make a pack last 3-4 days. That's still $10 a week. This is an extra expense that I can cut down on. I actually am cutting down on it, mind you. ...I gave my pack of cigarettes to my landlord tonight.

Me: Take this, okay?

Landlord: Okay... -puzzled look- And do what with them??

Me: (with a look of crazy in mah eyes) Hiiiide themmm...

Landlord: -thoroughly confused, maybe a little terrified-

If I can't get my hands on them, I can't smoke. If I can't smoke, I don't spend money on such a completely frivolous and unhealthy waste. That is actually a very, very simple solution. I'm so proud of myself! :D

Basically, here is what I've done: I sat down tonight and made a budget. I may spend no more than $15 a week. That's it.  Everything else needs to be saved. Otherwise, I will never be able to leave Branson not make the amount of money I need. ...childhood was easier. Get me a time machine!

Edit: Just so you know, it's nearly 4:00am. That all-nighter I pulled the other night?? I think it may have been pointless...hehe...

Snow

"Snowpocalypse": I kinda thought that was a bit dramatic. It's the pet-name for the crazy blizzards happening all over the US right now. I was like, "Eh...it's probably not gonna be that bad." And then it was that bad, and I was all, "Eh, it'll melt in a day or two." And then it stuck around for four days, and right when it was almost gone, it snowed another six inches. And then, today, it snowed, like, eight inches more. 

The fresh snow was beautiful. There is this perfect sheet of perfectness going right across the front yard of the boarding house. As I stepped outside to view it in all of it's perfectness, I was overwhelmed by the insatiable urge to release my inner 4-year-old all over the place. I wanted...to build a snowman. My heart leapt with giddy joy at the prospect of creating a gigantic snowy being, and I ran outside and grabbed a handful of snow...only to discover that the snow wouldn't pack. Anyway, I did end up walking around the neighborhood and taking some pictures!!

As you can see, I'm snowed in, yet again. This is the third time in less than two full weeks. I don't mind it so much, unless I have plans. Like...today I was going to go get coffee and have a movie day with a friend. Except I can't make my car move, and neither can she, and teleportation hasn't been invented yet in the real world. So it's just going to have to be post-poned. And that's okay, because I would rather drive on clear roads anyway. I don't have the cleanest snow-driving record, y'know?

Like, last week. I was going to go to my friend Melissa's to go snowboarding. I live, by the way, in Branson, Missouri. If you aren't familiar with Branson, just know that it's located in the Ozarks, a really hilly area of Missouri/Arkansas/part of Oklahoma. So I'm headed to Melissa's house. The roads were kinda clear, but not perfect. The snow from a couple days before was melting away, but fresh snow was falling. I came around a corner and headed down a hill/curve thing. It was at this point that my car decided that it would lose traction and smash into a fence. ...nice.

I love this picture... ^

 The Welk Resort. AKA, the place with huge parking lots near my house. They make a nice place to walk when it isn't 9 degrees outside.

The Landlord's car...hehehe...

That's right. That's a Snowman Messenger of Death. And, in case you were wondering...I'm the only person online to publish the phrase, "Snowman Messenger of Death." Don't believe me? Google it! :P

The Hound of Doom

Don't get me wrong: I love dogs. They're cute and they wag their tails and when they look up at you with those big brown eyes, your heart just kinda...melts. :D What dog people don't realize, though, is that dogs are actually genuinely evil. I don't think they mean to be; it's an inherent trait, not unlike the water cycle. It's just how it happens to be.

Last night is perfect evidence of this. Last night, I realized exactly why I am a cat person. Dogs...are...loud.

After 36 hours of being awake, I decided to go to bed around midnight. I crawled into bed and, for the first time in ages, fell asleep immediately. It was wonderful. I would easily have slept until mid-morning, blissfully unaware of my cool, dark surroundings. But four hours later, I was assaulted. I was violently and unexpectedly thrust from my sleep by a dog. Barking. Somewhere just beyond the back yard of the boarding house I live in.

At first, the dog seemed to have some reason for alarm. I could think of many, because I live about three minutes from a very, very large lake, and there's a lot of wildlife in the area. For example, it is all too possible that a small rabbit had made it's way into the neighbors yard, and the dog was just trying to tell his owner, "HEY, THERE'S A BUNNY! THERE'S A BUNNY! THEEEERE'SSSS A BUUUUUUUNNYYYYY!!!" Or a deer. Maybe even a skunk. As time went on, though, it became completely evident that this was simply not the case. The dog had now developed a pattern of four swift barks, followed by two seconds of pausing, and three barks, a second's time between each. The pattern, however, was just unstable enough to keep me from getting used to it, and thus tuning it out. Every once in a while, he'd toss in an extra bark or two, or get really loud and then really soft.

About ten minutes into the violent assault on the quiet night, I grew annoyed. I turned on the ceiling fan, hoping to dull the sharpness of the barking beast, if not drown it out completely. This proved to be completely useless, and, as a result, I had to find an extra blanket, because it was already kinda chilly, and the fan made me cold. 

Twenty minutes into the Florence Foster Jenkins-esque aria, I arose, only slightly disgruntled, and made my way to the kitchen for a bit of relief from the sound, and because I was thirsty. The sound of the dog was incapable, it seemed, of penetrating the house into the kitchen. As I opened the fridge and pulled out the milk to fill a glass, it dawned on me that the barking was, in fact, capable of penetrating the house into the kitchen. The assault began again, at full force. 

This dog was using freaking psychological warfare! I swear, it must have been a ninja or something. It waited until I thought I was safe, lulling me into a false sense of security in the safe-haven that was the kitchen, and then went right back at it. If it could build a giant wooden horse, it probably would have tricked me into letting it into the house. 

I drank my milk with a scowl and quickly retreated to my room, which was now freezing due to the fan. After pulling yet another blanket onto the bed, I lay there for another twenty minutes as the bombs exploded outside. 

The cure, as it turns out, was simply to wait until the sun rose. Apparently, this dog had some kind of weakness to the sun, because when 7am rolled around...the barking ceased, and I could finally sleep. I ended up sleeping well into the afternoon, though, which almost defeated the purpose of having stayed up for 35 hours the day before. But only almost, for here we are, at midnight, and I'm actually sleepy for once. As such, I bid you lovely people good night. And please, from now on...get cats. Your neighbors will appreciate it.

All Night Long!

Lately, my sleep schedules been off. Last night was the worst, but it's still been pretty bad lately. I'm usually up until 4:00 or 5:00. Not complaining, really. I don't mind being nocturnal. It's just not the "norm." Usually, I don't intentionally try to follow the norm, but for some reason, being up ridiculously late just isn't fun when you are the only one up and you read things like Dracula and watch scary movies all the time and you like to go for walks around the block, but it's three in the morning and you're just out of running distance of the house and you can hear cracking in the woods that are twelve feet away.

Admittedly, the sound is just a squirrel pitter-pattering about. Or a doe, foraging for the leafy goodness under the snow. But in my mind, it's a deranged mutant lemur with one eye and thirst for human blood. And I'm just not ready to die. There's only one way to fix this problem: I must readjust to a -eyeroll- normal sleep schedule. This way, I can thoroughly enjoy a walk, because deranged mutant lemurs are nocturnal, I'm sure.

So I have the cure! I'm pulling an all-nighter. I'll stay up all night, and all day tomorrow, and go to bed at a decent time! To do this, I've done a few things. First, I located several cans of Mountain Dew. This may seem like a small thing, but to me, it's huge, because I love caffeine, and I know that at around 6 am or so, I'm going to say, "Meh...so sleeeeepy" and pass out on the couch. Secondly, I dug out my old Game Boy Color. Yeah, you remember those things. Four buttons (A, B, Start and Select) and a directional pad with a screen that doesn't glow and is actually battery operated...and you have to change the batteries! Along with that, I found my Pokemon Blue cartridge. Third, I invited a couple friends along. I've got here my buddies Matt and Derek, and we're just gonna nerd it up tonight with our Mountain Dew and our Pokemon.

It's a Blast From the Past!!

We do have to be quiet and sneaky, though. My landlord has to get up at 6:30 to get around for work, and he would not be pleased to hear a bunch of yelling and giddy laughter several hours before he has to crawl out of bed.

Anyway, I'll probably randomly update this entry from time to time if anything fun actually happens. I'm gonna go for now though...'cuz I just got me a Squirtle. And he's all turtle-y and cute.

:D

UPDATE!: So, yeah. I started with a Squirtle (I name him Torty...just because..). And now I have a Nidoran(male) and a Nidoran(female) and a Paras. I love Paras. They're just so...mushroom-y and fun and stuff. Anyway, I totally destroyed Brock. Okay, it was easy...because I had Torty the Squirtle and he's all like "IMMA SHOOT BUBBLES AT CHOO!!" and Onyx was all like "I...am...so...not immune to bubbles. Or general hygiene in and of itself!" And then I got the Boulder Badge, told Brock how much of a loser he was, and left. Oh yeah, and Matt wanted me to mention that Brock also has a Geodude...but Geodude wasn't really worth mentioning, so it's whatever. Now I'm in Mt. Moon, pwnin' da Zubats. FTW.

UPDATE! (v. 2.0): Hey, what's up, guys!? Rockin' out to some Pokemon with Pete! It's Matt, btw. Hehe, yeah, we just heard this whole shebang about Power Rangers from Derek...what a nerd. Haha, I can't say much 'cause Pete and I are worse with our Pokemon and DragonBall Z...and then there's my love for MORTAL KOMBAT!! ;) So, in about 3 hours Pete and I are gonna duel it out at some DBZ and probably start yelling at each other hahahaha. I can just see it now! 

Pete: "You're going down, Matt!!" 

Matt: "I don't think so! I'll kick your butt!" 

Pete: "Hi-ya!! Take that!" 

Matt: "I hate you!!" -Matt mashes Pete's buttons on his controller to make him mess up- 

Yeah, that's right; I just went 3rd grade on him! Bwahaha! :)

UPDATE! (...again): Okay. Pete here. I just wanted to let you know that, even after I kinda dissed Geodude earlier...I caught one. But I don't love him. Nope. He's not that cool. In fact, the game said "Do you want to give your GEODUDE (because it always capitalizes names for some reason) a nickname?" And I said, "Yes." I named him "Meh...". Yes. "Meh," followed by an ellipses. So every time the game mentions him during a battle, it sounds really unenthusiastic. "Meh...grew to level 12." Torty has now evolved, by the way, into a Wartortle. Also, I caught a Paras. And I do love him...because he's not a Geodude.

UPDATE!: IIIII caught a Mew. That is all.