[Or] An Experiment In Reality

Before I start posting actual work, I would like to make a quick explanation of what my work is. It is a realistic fiction dealing with the inner monologue and thoughts of a person. As it is an inner monologue, descriptions and information do not come forward immediately as the thinker already knows what the person they are thinking about looks like and the layouts of buildings. This is not a story about an regular Joe. My character is far from ordinary, as you will eventually find out. My novella is a 30 day experience of thought processes and conversations through someone else's eyes. While it may not have any fantasy in it, I hope that it will intrigue you and hopefully keep your interest until the end. Opinions welcome.

An Experiment In Reality

October 1, 2006
8:51 A.M.
Life is like waking up on a winter’s weekend. That’s what I thought as I got out of bed. It made sense, after all, you wake up and enjoy the warmth of your bed, maybe sleep in a little bit, but soon you are forced out of your comfort zone, into the cold floors of your life. A kind of depressing philosophy, but I think it’s okay.

I dragged my feet out into the living room, and sadly the first thing I did was check what was on the television. Infomercial. Infomercial. Infomercial. Some sport I didn’t care about. I finally settled on watching The Magic Bullet infomercial. It seemed to be best of the products sold, but they didn’t use a live audience, so you aren’t sure if the product is as good as they say it is. After having watched them make various breakfast items, I realized I was hungry. Two choices. Raisin Bran, or Honey Nut Cheerios. I went with cheerios today. I poured my bowl, put in the last of a gallon of milk, grabbed a spoon, and then sat back on the couch.

Eating my cereal, I realized that the reception was getting fuzzy, I didn’t really care, I mean I could go and fix the reception, but I didn’t want to waste the energy tinkering with the antenna. Having finished my cereal, I went onto the computer and accessed the thing that keeps me alive. No, not the internet, music is what keeps me alive. My Windows Media Player is overloaded with my favorite music and music I had been told was good but hadn’t got around to listening too. After shuffling through my 4-5 star songs, I settled on Waiting for the Worms by Pink Floyd. I’ve always loved Pink Floyd, in fact I’ve listened to it for most of my life… I can’t really remember the first time I’d ever heard it… must’ve been a long time ago though.

But back to the point. Music has been my lifeline for a long time. Recently I learned that music determines my mood, so if I want to be depressed, angry, or sad, I just have to listen to the right music. Having dicked around on my computer for long enough I finally decided to get online… ah the internet, the poison of our lives. After checking my various sites, I continued to delve into my world of music. Sometimes I’ll just sit at my computer, head on the table listening to music. Suddenly, I realized I hadn’t taken a shower, I jumped from my computer desk and ran into the bathroom.

There’s nothing like a really good shower. The hot water pouring all over you, the steam rising up, utter relaxation is accomplished. The most relaxing part about a shower is that you can’t really do anything while taking one. You can’t do your homework, you can’t make any calls, all you can do is sit and relax. Having become squeaky clean, I re-enter the living room.

I could do my homework, but instead I decide to lay on the couch and watch In Living Color on DVD. You know Jim Carey (or James as he was called back then) is a frickin’ genious. He was the token white guy on the show. You don’t get that joke unless you’ve seen the show. Anyway, after laying around for about an hour, I had some pie. Interesting thing about the pie. I was in a pie eating contest the previous day. I lost because I had eaten at a barbecue and hour before. So there is a half eaten pie in my fridge that I had basically made out with. Noone in my family will eat it. So I had one chocolate crème pie all to myself, which I had eaten throughout the day.

I messed around for the rest of the day, not doing anything in particular. Finally it came time to go to youth group. We were having a retro night. I went as one of the wild and crazy guys from SNL. I found out that they were going to give everyone energy drinks when it was over, and foolishly I took one. I was feeling fine during the giant dance competition (which I didn’t win.) I lost the drawing for the PSP by 1 number (98565 the winning number being 98566.) Then we watched a quick video. It had that thing where they showed sped up traffic that would stop every once in a while. That’s when I started getting the shakes, REALLY bad. It felt like my soul had exploded, and I had know idea why, so I drank some water from the drinking fountain to try and calm myself down, but it didn’t work.

It turns out that since I hadn’t had any protein; my body wasn’t absorbing any of the taurine niacin and caffeine. I spent most of the service outside trying to calm my body down. After having run around and eaten something I felt a little better, and by that time service was over. I had learned my lesson about energy drinks, don’t drink them on an empty stomach, but I took three leftover ones home so that when I had to wake up early I could give myself a little kick in the pants and get energized.

On my way home I realized that I hadn’t prepared my green peanut butter that I needed to use as a beauty product for my Spanish class that I had the next day. Upon getting home I mixed the peanut butter and green food coloring. I wasn’t allowed to use that much and I hoped that it would be enough for what we planned to do with it. Upon finishing that I could relax. I found a hard time doing it; my mind was still running a million miles a minute. It’s one of those moments where you feel like there is more to you and everything around you. You feel like you are within an inch of learning everything, of achieving an omniscient state.

Eventually the feeling subsided as I slipped into my world of music. My mom yelled at me, commanding me to unload the dishwasher, completely killing my mood. I was still buzzed, so I was talking a little faster than I usually do, and I spent my time complaining about how there are to many damn cups (which is true, we do have too many damn cups.) I finally went to bed, still slightly buzzing, knowing that I’d probably have a hard time waking up the next day. 10:00 P.M.


Current word count: 1,116. I know that there is little detail and description. I purposely made it like that. When you see your friends each day, you don't actively describe them in your mind, and neither does my character. Remember I'm going for thought processes and inner monologue. The paragraphs are rough... if I ever edit, they will be a lot cleaner.

May I suggest paragraphs?

Fine Lozzie, if you really insist.

I'm just saying, because I know that not having a story in paragraphs really turns my gears...

That, and I think when pip reads it, I think he will flip out as well :XD

October 2, 2006
6:20 A.M.
I didn’t wake up with any happy or philosophical thoughts. I woke up to sleeping in twenty minutes. Not pleasant.

Showers in the morning aren’t pleasant either, especially when they are rushed. You’ve just woken up, and you step into the shower, and just stand there. You aren’t conscious enough to enjoy it, so you stand there like a zombie. You only wake up when you get out of the shower, and only because of how cold it is out in the rest of the house. I stumbled through the darkness of my house into the laundry room and rifled through my clothes until I found something fit for wearing. A pair of gray nylon pants with crappy pockets and a red shirt with the words “Hi, I don’t care, thanks!” emblazoned across them.

I wandered into the living room and packed my bag for school our 1-3-5 day, removing my math work. Having that accomplished, I realized that I had about ten minutes before I needed to leave, and promptly fell asleep on the couch for the remaining time. At 7:10 I ventured out into the 40 degree city with my fish hat on my head, a backpack on my back, and a tenor saxophone in my hand. I had almost forgotten my green peanut butter, but I grabbed it at the last moment.

The walk to the bus stop isn’t that long, it’s just really creepy and cold, and very tiresome while carrying a tenor sax. I made it to the bus stop on time and got on. I don’t like riding the busses when they are filled with other people. There are only two kinds of people who ride the bus, people who don’t have cars, and people who are to unstable to drive cars. As a result, there are a lot of weird people on the busses. Not really in the mornings, especially at 6:10 (when I normally ride the bus.) At about 6:40 I arrived at school.

I went to the band room because there was no where else to really go in the morning. I watched the “Jazz Band” “play” “music” for awhile. I hate jazz band. I had taken it the year before and I had such a bad experience I didn’t come back the next year. At 7:00 the bell rang and wind ensemble started. Wind ensemble was extremely uneventful, as was most of the school day. In science we did a simple lab involving analyzing the flames of different elements. Spanish was the high point of my day. My partner and I performed our beauty product/diet supplement commercial, and I got green peanut butter spread all over my face. I even ate some of it. It was quite tasty.

After school got out I made my way down to my bus stop and waited to be picked up. Upon entering the bus I was once again amongst the freaks of the bus. A very uncomfortable five minute bus ride later I was back home. I walked in the heat of the day to back to my house to unwind. I decided to watch Pulse, which was a live Pink Floyd concert that I had recorded off of PBS recently. I must have dozed off a couple of times while watching it, because the music jumped a couple of times.

I’m not allowed to get online until 5:00 P.M. so instead, I called Shahida. We talked for awhile, about her boyfriend, about my crush on her, about dreams and goals. Shahida and I are the people who can easily have hour long conversations. Alas, eventually she had to go do homework and I decided to do my homework the next day. So I spent the rest of my night listening to music and lying on my couch until I needed to go to bed.
10:00P.M.

A little short of my goal of 2,000 words today...

October 3, 2006
5:00 A.M., and again at 5:10 A.M.
I did not have a pleasant night. Two words, LEG CRAMP. I woke up screaming in the middle of the night. Surprisingly I was able to get back to sleep for a couple of hours before 5:00. Five is my normal time to wake up, but I needed just a little more sleep. So I hit the snooze and did as the button said for about ten more minutes.

Same old morning routine of stumbling around the house, but this time I had no pants to wear. Only shorts. Shorts in cold morning weather are never good. Thankfully the temp outside was 50 degrees (warm for that time of the morning.) And so I walked out into the darkness of 6:10 in the morning. Arrived at the bus stop on time, but there was a problem. My bus pass was expired and I needed to pick up a new one. I’d needed to do it for a few days.

I managed to talk my way onto the bus, and was soon headed to school. The morning bus ride is always so peaceful, hardly anyone is on, and you have time to yourself. I got off at my stop and walked to the band hall.

Upon going up the stairs, I heard a resounding cry of “GUR” from my friend Alfredo. We sat around out side of the choir room and waited for jazz choir to start. Notice I don’t have a problem with jazz choir, that’s because jazz choir does not involve carrying a heavy instrument. Jazz choir went well, as it usually does, because everyone is brain dead and so there isn’t much expected (that and we are all very talented.)

It was a 2-4-6 day, so I moved on to math. Honors Algebra 2. Ugh. The only good part about math that day was the scheduled fire alarm that everyone knew about. From math we went on to “advisory.” One of the crappiest and most useless classes ever. Mrs. Brown, the crazy southern Jew, teaches my advisory class. I don’t have any thing against crazy, the South, or Judaism, but altogether it’s kind of weird.

After forty five minutes that I’m never getting back it was time to move onto a bigger waste of time, world history. Taught by the student teacher named Mr. Baker. The class wasn’t that bad, we watched A Tale Of Two Cities and messed around for practically the entire period, not a complete loss at all.

For lunch, I went up into the library and played tanks with my friends. Because my friends and me are easily excited, we were shushed multiple times and almost were kicked out, but it was fun anyway.

From lunch, we went on to the class of eternal pointlessness, English. We took a simple vocab quiz, and because I finished first, I was granted the privilege of getting the ScanTron from first floor. It was fun, I was able to use the faculty elevators and take my time. I entered the class to find everyone studying our poetry book Spoon River Anthology.

School overall that day was a complete waste. I even forgot to get my new bus pass, so I had to bum change off a freshman (talk about degrading.)

Things didn’t improve when I came home. I had forgotten to plug the phone line back in when I went to bed, and as a result was grounded from the internet for a day. With a lack of better things, I checked to see if I had anything due on Wednesday. I didn’t so instead of working ahead, I sprawled out on the couch and watched TV. That pleasure could only last so long though, for soon I had to leave for band practice.

I was told that it was going to be a full dress rehearsal, so I came wearing my gym shorts, dinkles, and black socks. Turned out that since there was a chance of rain our director decided against marching in uniform. So, for two and a half hours, I marched in some of the thinnest clothing ever. I was not a happy camper, and desperate to get home so I could release my stress into my world of music.

At 9:21, I arrived home and plugged into my computer. While I was trying to degauss myself of stress, my parents became engaged in an argument. Something about money, I tend not to try to find out what the arguments are about. Soon I was at peace with basically everything in the universe (except for emos), and I decided it was about time to hit the hay.
10:10 P.M.

October 4, 2006
5:30 A.M.
A late morning. Late mornings are never good. Late mornings usually result in being late for the bus, and being late for the bus sucks. Big time. I new that I had to use the forbidden drink. Wired 294 Triple Caffeine. After a few sips I was awake, but I knew that I had to go beyond awake. I had to go Wired.

I was halfway through the can when the effects kicked in, and I knew that I had to eat and quickly. So after scarfing down a bowl of raisin bran and a hard-boiled egg I felt the effects kick in. My brain and speech speeds spiked. Taking the rest of the Wired and pouring it into an empty water bottle, I near ran to the bus stop.

Today I had come prepared with the thirty-five cent bus fare ready, and I had set a reminder on my cell to get my bus pass. On the bus ride I was a little more… awake than I’ve ever been, resulting in some slight twitches and attention to everything.

On the way up to Jazz Choir, I noticed two things. 1. My water bottle had re-pressurized. 2. The Wired looked like an alcoholic beverage. Having noticed these two things, I immediately chugged the remaining beverage and threw the bottle into the nearest park garbage can, and I realized another interesting thing. Wired is better when it was flat.

I arrived at the choir room to find it open, and proceeded to have one of the best Jazz Choir practices ever. We did mainly Jazz improv., which is always fun when it is taken seriously. I also demonstrated some of the blues songs I had learned from my dad, which made a big impression upon all of my peers and my teacher.

After Jazz Choir was band. Band does not deserve mentioning. Someone locked my locker, and I couldn’t remember it. Then my director threatened to place a nail in a place on my tenor that would give me a groin injury if I didn’t hold the instrument properly.

After crappy band we went on to math, where the energy punched me in the face like Mike Tyson. I had it all, the slight trembling, the impulsivity, the fast talking, and the mood swings. It was rather enjoyable.

Once math was done, I practically ran to science. We had a sub, meaning that nothing was accomplished but conversations.

Alas, soon fun time was over, and we had to move onto history. We watched more of A Tale Of Two Cities, and I got the chance to sketch one of my peers. Every once in awhile I get the perfect viewpoint for a sketch, and they hold still long enough for me to get a good sketch. I know I’m pretty good because I’ve been complemented on it a few times, however I just can’t draw faces, I need to work on that.

We didn’t get around to finishing the movie, so we were released to lunch, which was as usual uneventful.

Spanish was slightly interesting. For the past week, we’ve had someone pull the fire alarm just as 5th period starts. Today they did it twice. I think that it’s an organized group, if it was one person they would’ve been caught by then.

The actual class period was a boring test, and English wasn’t anymore eventful. We were given “time to work” which meant “act like you’re working and talk.”

After school was the worst time for me. It turns out for JUST the month of October I had to have picked up my bus pass before September ended. Bastards… I had to bum bus fare off of the librarians.

When I got home, I actually had to do homework, which didn’t take me long, I just had to recopy some things. My mom soon found out about my bus pass issue and went ballistic, she was planning to talk to the transportation department about it. I enjoyed a rather quiet evening, however, my friend Christopher and his had-a-stroke-when-he-was-a-baby-so-he's-a-little-slow brother stopped by for haircuts from my mom, she gives the free to friends of the family.

After that I sat around on my butt listening to music and surfing the net, until I finally had to go to bed.
10:00 P.M.

3,276 words.

I've noticed that I have quite a few views (2nd most right at this moment.) Feel free to leave compliments or constructive criticism!

October 5, 2006
5:00 A.M.
I faintly remember this morning, most likely because nothing bad happened. I got up and ready in plenty of time, and I bummed some bus fare from my mom. In fact, my morning was near perfect, as was most of school.

Jazz Choir was wonderful, we worked on Jazz theory regarding scatting, and had a little mini-test regarding writing out a sung melody and writing lyrics for it. All period was Jazz… wonderful…

Even band didn’t suck that day. I got my tenor back from the shop, which meant I didn’t have to use someone else’s tenor now, very good indeed. For the past week we’ve been preparing for The Cavalcade Of Bands, and today was no different.

I started losing during science, meaning that I passed out in the middle of class. Luckily I wasn’t caught. Most people fall asleep because of being tired, I fall asleep out of boredom. Apparently we had an essay explaining atomic theory due the next Monday, which majorly sucks.

After science we moved on to history, which was the same old same old so it won’t be talked about. During lunch, I was called by mother and told to go pick up my bus pass, which I did gratefully. I don’t know what she said to them, but it must’ve been something big. For lunch I had a bagel and a chocolate milk, because it was all I could afford. Spanish was also uneventful, as was English.

Overall the school day wasn’t that exciting, and the day was looking as if it was going to turn out normal. It almost did, until it came to band practice. That’s when I noticed the moon. It was full. I have a lycan obsession, and therefore also obsessed with the full moon. I spent the practice staring at the moon every moment I got. On the way home, I came up with a plan. When I get to college, I plan to convince my peers that I am a werewolf. By letting little suspicious things slip and furtively denying them, I could convince people that I am a lycan. This thought pleased me, and I smiled all the way home. Upon using my computer I pulled up The Sickness by Disturbed. If you cut out all the child abuse at the end, the song sounds like it could be about lycanthropy, but maybe it’s just me. It turns out I was more tired than I thought, because upon getting into be I fell asleep almost instantly.
10:00 P.M.


Sorry for the shortness... VERY TIRED. The weekend and next week promise to be more interesting as a major change of events will be happening in the characters life.

3,703

October 6, 2006
5:00 A.M.
A tiring day indeed. Waking up wasn’t pleasant. I sat in bed for a few minutes before I could finally haul myself out of my bed. Average morning up until I fell asleep on the couch. I ended up lucid dreaming, which was very cool indeed. I had heard about lucid dreaming and was told that flying during a lucid dream is supposed to be one of the coolest things you can do. I tried it, it was ok, I’ve had cooler things happen in dreams. I had a hard time finding my I.D. badge, and got out of the house late, but that’s not the reason I almost missed the bus. I was wearing my black swim team sweatshirt, and apparently that makes me blend into the darkness.
Jazz choir was a little less Jazz then usual, there was a lot of wasted time. There was a plus to that day though, I was complemented by my director on my scatting skill. We had a performance coming up, and so we ran through all of our songs. Turns out that we only have three fourths of our music down, meaning that we practiced, practiced, practiced, for the rest of the period.

In band all we did is load the band truck for the game that night and Cavalcade the following day. If you looked busy, no one really bothered you to carry anything. Needless to say, I looked busy.

Math was a substitute, meaning absolutely no work was done. I talked to Shahida for the entire period. At the time she was having boyfriend problems, which are very good for me. I get to show that I care about other people while also learning what to and not to do. I also got to work on a history essay that I had an entire week to work.

Having accomplished nothing and yet everything, I moved on to science. Science was the same. Mr. Klarich lecturing, me pretending to listen, but this time I was working on a history essay AND pretending to listen. Tricky indeed. For once I did not tick of my teacher, which was a completely new experience.

Having learned more nothing, I moved on to history. We finally finished A Tale Of Two Cities, which I finally decided was an awesome movie. After the movie, I turned in my essay, which was just a load of smoke and mirrors. I find it easier to bul***** my way through essays instead of actually working, and it works very well if you have confidence and self-assurance.

For lunch we had another pulled fire alarm. It turns out that for every false alarm we have, the perpetrator is fined $500, and if the perpetrator is not found, the fine goes to the ASB. That kind of sucks, but I figure that if these alarm pullers have gotten this far, then they deserve some major acknowledgement. I say they because I’m pretty sure it is an organized group doing it. I don’t really care about ASB funding that much, it’s not like I enjoy school dances, all they play is hip-hop… which is some of the stupidest music I have ever heard.

After lunch it was once again time for Spanish, and once again, nothing happened. We did a minor reading from our text books, and that was it. Nothing productive came from that period, unless you count making a spring loaded pencil eraser productive. Yep good old Spanish class, were nothing happens but somehow you learn something.
Finally the last class of the day came, and with it, my high school nemesis. Mrs. Drollinger, my arch rival was subbing our English class while our teacher was out celebrating our anniversary. Due to the various miss-teachings of Mrs. Drollinger, most of the class failed a quiz, except for the ones who listened to me. They passed completely. Yes, Mrs. Drollinger, the sub who I’ve continuously encountered through my high school and part of my middle school careers. Upon entering the classroom, I asked Mrs. Drollinger if she remembered me, and she replied that I was the kind of person who isn’t forgotten easily. She said it in that tone that let you know that she wished she could forget about me. Yes Mrs. Drollinger, try and forget about me, we’ll just keep meeting when my teachers leave. One day Mrs. Drollinger, I will win, and you will lose… Sorry, got a little evil there for a moment.

Soon school was out, and I went to hang out in the library. From about 2:35 to 3:10, the fire alarm was pulled about five times. The group was getting more efficient. But alas, I had to go home, and not find out how the shenanigans ended.

Two bad things happened when I came home. The first was that my mom was leaving to a conference over the weekend. The second was that I had forgotten my tenor in the band room. Our director had already told us that there was no going back to the band room after school was out. So I made a few calls and was told that it MAY have been taken on the band truck. I settled for what I could and relaxed whilst listening to some music.

Upon reaching serenity, I had to leave for the football game. It was a rival game. The Davis Pirates (us) vs. the Eishenower (Ike for short) Cadets. I was stuck doing pep band. Crappy boring pep band. My instrument HAD been loaded onto the truck, meaning that I did have to play. We performed our half time show, which went over extremely well, and then were released during third quarter. I didn’t find out what the final score was until the next day. I went home an extremely tired person, yet I stayed up until 11:00 on the computer, even thought I knew I had to wake up early the next day. I figured at the time that waking up early was my future self’s problem, not mine.
11:00 P.M.

4,179

October 7, 2006
6:00 A.M.
Waking up was miserable. I felt a little sick and a little tired, but that is why God invented energy drinks, but I couldn’t have one just yet. I had to pack. I packed my normal equipment, DS with games, a good book to read, WAY to much food to eat by myself. My dad was taking me to the school, so I knew that he would wait until the last possible moment to go and then blame me for being late. I knew the entire morning procedure, and performed without a hitch.

We arrived at the school about five minutes before the band left. I caught the last minute announcements. I handed Shahida said she was tired, so I handed her one of my last energy drinks, and we had a little cheesy toast. Soon, I was shoved unto the bus, and the trip began.

It started like any other field trip, starting out with chitchat and homework, along with the premature eating of snacks. That deteriorated to chitchat, joke telling, more snack eating, and video games. Finally, it degenerated to what all bus rides degenerate into, singing. But this was a bus trip, so most of the upper classmen sang last years show, the music of Ray Charles. I of course, joined in.

Halfway to Prosser we stopped at a park and had an hour rehearsal to address last minute issues. My section leader was working on my last good nerve, I basically told her to piss off and leave me alone and ignored her for the rest of the practice. After the practice it was just a little further to The Cavalcade Of Bands.

We were scheduled to be the first to perform after lunch. We were in the AAA large division, which was an upgrade from AAA small, which was our division last year. Before we knew it, the time had come for us to enter preliminary competition. There was a lot of stopping and starting, with us at attention constantly.

Our director had made me put my slightly long hair into a tiny ponytail, which at the time was digging into the back of my head, giving me a headache. But alas, we had to perform. Our show was Spices, consisting of five songs, Cayenne Pepper, Oregano, Paprika, Ginger, and Curry Powder. We performed as best we could, and in eight short minutes, it was all over.

Upon reaching our designated place, we were all pumped. We hastily ate the food that the Davis Band Boosters provided, and went back to the stadium to see the other bands perform. Royal had done Nintendo classics, which I had unfortunately missed. The rest of the shows were good. The last band to perform before finals announcements was Mead.

Mead is the school that wins, in everything, except for having a soul. The charge for joining Mead is $2,000 dollars, upfront. Not only that, but you get demerits for doing the wrong things. Three demerits, and you are out of the band. You don’t get your money back. If you have an unexcused absence, you get replaced. There is a waiting list of roughly fifty people at any given moment, waiting to join. They learn the music with the chance of never performing it, ever. At Mead, sports schedule themselves around band. That’s how serious they take it. Drill is learned in sectionals or solo, it is not taught during practice.

Mead does not have a soul, but they do win. Mead’s show this year, was hilarious, me and my friend spent all of our time making fun of it by narrating it. It was an average day in the life of some guy. It started like this. Oh look at the time! I better pick up my rifle and spin it to make sure it still works. It’s a good thing I’m a ninja, because it also functions as a bow staff. We just went on and on. The show was well done, the music and drill was just stupid.

And soon it was time for finals announcements. We won. And by we won I mean we won absolutely nothing. We even sang a spontaneous group parody of We Are The Champions as we left. It went like this: They kicked our asses, they kicked our asses, we are the losers cuz they kicked our asses. We weren’t that downtrodden though, we only missed finals by four points.

There was a little time before finals for everyone to mellow out. My friend Danny and I discussed material for my new television show that he was going to be co-hosting. Having come up with some good ideas, we watch. Danny and I sat in an area far away from everyone else with Danny’s girlfriend, and me and him “narrated” the finals competition through the judge’s perspectives. It was rather entertaining. We ended up developing a creepy English guy voice, which we planned to use in our show.

We were not able to watch the end of finals, because we needed to head back home. The bus ride home was similar to the one to Cavalcade, except singing was banned, and people were hoarse from yelling.

I continued to use my creepy English guy voice until I got home which was around 10:30 P.M. I called up Shahida and talked to her for a few minutes. Turned out that she had broken up with her boyfriend during the day, which meant two things. 1. She was single. 2. She needed a date to homecoming. I proceeded to ask her, but was deflated upon getting a maybe. Apparently she thought of asking her ex-boyfriend instead of asking me. That makes perfect sense except for the part where it doesn’t. Within ten minutes of hanging the phone up I was comatose in bed.
11:00 P.M.

5,698 words

I would REALLY appreciate some form of feedback on my work, but I'm not going to say the immature "I'm not going to post anymore until I get feedback" thing.

October 8, 2006
9:30 A.M.
I woke up. Well, woke up is an overstatement. I became conscious of the fact that it was Sunday. That’s about it. About ten minutes later I realized what time it was. Five minutes afterward I remembered my name, and a few minutes after that I remembered everything else. Homework. A lot of it. In fact, a whole portfolio worth that hadn’t been done. Yet. Keyword yet.

I had all day to do my homework. At the moment I had that thought I was corrected. Apparently I had signed up to help sell popcorn in front of Fred Myer’s to help my troop out in our fundraising. From 1:00 to 3:00. I had youth group from 5:00 to 8:00. I was screwed. I started working around 11:00 A.M. I had about sixteen homework assignments, and a project. All due Monday. I also had a test, but I never study for tests, so there was no reason in being worried about them. The point was that I had maybe five hours to get all my homework done. IF I didn’t get distracted.

I was able to get about nine of the easy assignments done before I had to leave for Fred Myers. There I donned my boy scout uniform and went to work selling popcorn. I managed to sell over $200 worth of popcorn, but not without losing some of my dignity. Logic says that there would’ve been someone there who knew me. That wasn’t the problem, there were MULTIPLE people there who knew me. Meaning that there were a lot more people in the world who knew I was a boy scout. I don’t have any problems with being a boy scout, but I do have a problem with people who think that they can tease me about it.

After what had seemed like an eternity, I was released from selling duties and went back home for about fifty minutes. I got a bite to eat and checked my websites like the nerd I am. I also gathered up my remaining homework to try and make a feeble attempt at doing some of it at church.

Never ever try to do homework at church, especially when you’re on the worship team. You have no time to get anything done. That’s what I learned at church. Up until about fifteen minutes before the service started I was tied up in worship team practice. In the spare fifteen minutes I was given, me and my friend Aaron walked down to a nearby 7/11. I walked in acting eccentric like I usually do while Aaron bought us some authentic mini-mart taquitos. My eccentricity didn’t go well with the cashier, and as we were making our purchase the cashier asked if I was doped up. That was the first time in my life that someone openly questioned if I was on drugs.

The service that night was a complete bomb. I didn’t feel anything, except during worship. Other than that I found no spiritual enrichment that night. I went home exhausted but still having homework. After about an hour of attempting to work on it, I finally gave up and went to bed.
10:00 P.M.

Word Count 6,234

Once again, looking for some feedback, I know people read this, I have some of the highest amounts of views. Please comment, what you like, what you don't like... anything... please.

October 9, 2006
6:00 A.M.
When you wake up making a noise similar to that of a dying zombie, you can be pretty sure that your day isn’t going to be the best. I got up with a stuffy nose and a stuffy head. My cold was getting worse. The hot and therapeutic heat of the shower cleared my head for a little while, but I still crashed on my couch for about a half hour.

It was the same old funeral march to school, except it was especially grim today. I had a science portfolio due. I wasn’t finished with it. But that’s why they invented copying other people’s work. What would’ve taken an hour of busy work took fifteen minutes of copying and rewording. I did have to write a presentation on atomic theory from scratch, but that’s never hard to do.

During band we listened to the judge tapes from Cavalcade and found out how close we had actually come to making it into finals. Turns out it was very, VERY close. If we had improved our individual work (by practicing) we could have easily made finals. So then our director went on a practicing rampage, guilting us, lecturing us, and pressuring us all to practice and show up on time for practices, and arrange sectionals… it was tiring just listening to him.

Once released from wind ensemble it was onto the science of doom. I both feared and looked forward to it. We had to take a test, and make a presentation. I wasn’t worried about the presentation. I nervously did the test, answering them to the best of my abilities. Once the tests were done, we had our presentations. I was the third to go. I let my outgoing loud and funny self out, causing my presentation to be one of the best (and longest) performed. I may have lost points for having it be slightly inaccurate, but I did extremely well in all of the other categories. I watched others make their presentations. Most of them were uncreative and dull, however there were a few that like me, were full of energy and exuberance.

Eventually the time for science was over, and the time of lunch was in full swing. Lunch was as usual boring and dull. So it was onto Spanish. We watched Wallace And Gromit And The Curse Of The Were-Rabbit in Spanish with English subtitles. I was rather disappointed, you just can’t get a good English accent when it’s in Spanish. We watched it until class was over.

I went promptly home and did absolutely nothing for an extended period of time. I called YCTV and found out that the production course was at 1:30. The same time as my English class. If I hoped to make it to the class, I had to convince my English teacher to let me miss her class. But that was a problem for my future self. And a problem for future self was of no importance to me.
10:00 P.M.

6,724

October 10, 2006
5:00 A.M., and again at 5:10 A.M.

I woke up and hit the snooze for a ten minute extra nap. It was quite pleasant. My cold was getting increasingly worse, and I was soon coughing. I don’t cough like a normal person does, I have just enough asthma to give myself a nice deep throaty cough without it hurting me. As a result, I can get out of many things if I wish to. My parents know this, so I can’t use it to get out of school. I got to school at my usual time, doing my usual thing, as usual.

Jazz choir was scatting and mike work, not very exciting. Math was… crappy. More assignments were assigned and things were looking gloomy. History sucked. We were assigned Spanish Revolutionists. We had to research their accomplishments and how they affected their countries. We went to the library to do “research,” meaning messing around on the internet. I managed to get all the idiots mad at me by telling them that Wikipedia is an unreliable source (which it is.) I spent the rest of the period practicing chronostasis on www.grasshopper.com. Lunch had food in it, which was good.

English was dull. Vocab test. Crappy and stupid assignments regarding our books. I approached my teacher and convinced her to let me be absent the next day provided I did my vocab cards and showed them to her Wednesday during lunch. I was elated. If only that elation could have lasted all day.

I went home and relaxed until I had to return for marching band, which sucked. My section leader was being a complete *****, and was harping on me all practice, saying hypocritical things, like I talked to much, I shouldn’t have my cell phone out, that I was doing things wrong. What she doesn’t realize is that she’s the pot calling teakettle black. I kept on feeling like I was going to vomit into my instrument. It was a very unpleasant experience. I ended up getting home late with no time to do anything, and I had no option but to go and sleep.

7,098


It's short but... um... well there is no excuse for it being short... SORRY!

Hmm...I haven't read every word, but from what I have read, I must say it's pretty good. It's relatable. It's well worded. It's enjoyable.

There's not much else I can say. If you want constructive criticism, then I'll wait until it's finished. So far, thumbs up. =]

October 11, 2006

The day had come, the day that would start a gigantic experience in my life. At least that’s what I thought. No not thought, hoped. It would be a while before I would find out the impact. I was energized, despite still having my ailment.

There weren’t anymore pairs of pants for me to wear except for my retro polyester pants. I hate wearing them, and if you’ve ever worn polyester pants, you’ll know what I mean. The morning was okay overall, but I was nervous. I was depending on my father to take me from school to public access. My father is not known for his reliability or his memory. I was relying on the wild card, the unreliable parent. I was nervous all day.

Jazz choir was problematic, my voice wasn’t getting better, and I had to try to hit some high notes. I tried, but I sounded terrible. And by terrible I mean horrible. Band was even worse. I found out that I had to do a midterm on a piece of music I hadn’t had anytime to practice due to instrumentless circumstances. I was frustrated, to say the least. Math was blah. I didn’t listen to anything my teacher said, except for the fact that we had eight assignments due. I didn’t really care, figured I would get them done at home.

Shahida still had not given me a response to home coming, and I was starting to get psychotic over it. Science was still boring. I did my vocab cards for English during it. More of the rafts were performed, it took all period. Believe it or not, we still weren’t finished once the period was over, meaning there would be more the next day. History was even more crap. Another day in the library… and nothing was done… I’m surprised our teacher didn’t notice.

Lunch was lunch filled. I finished my vocab cards and showed them to my English teacher. I was hoping and praying that my father remembered to pick me up. Spanish didn’t suck. We finished watching Wallace and Gromit. I had a hard time enjoying it though, I kept glancing at my clock.

I needed to be at the station at 1:30 P.M. At 1:25 I was about to start pulling my hair out when I was called to the office. The request said IMMEDAITELY. I realized that my dad DID remember, he was just taking his sweet time. I ran to the office and met up with him. We left campus and headed towards YCTV.

It wasn’t that far of a trip, about seven blocks. From 5th ave. to 2nd st. We made it there at exactly 1:30. I ran in, excited and ready. It turned out that my dad knew one of the employees, in fact it was the guy doing the presentation, so there was a little chit chat between them before the orientation started. The orientation itself was quite dull. It was a read through of the YCTV producer handbook. It was about a two hour read, where they covered literally every question that we had.

My dad had to leave in the middle of it, meaning I was left to learn by myself. There were only me and five other people, and by the very end only three were left. Everyone else had conflicting issues and had to leave. When the orientation was over, I realized I didn’t have a ride. At least not for an hour and a half. I called my mother to organize the ride, and then took a quick lesson in editing.

The employees at YCTV can give you lessons in all you need to know about producing TV. Best of all, they do them at your convenience. Meaning I could have a quick lesson. One of the employees led me into one of the editing bays and began to teach me about non-linear editing. The most advanced thing they have is a mac with two monitors networked with Final Cut. There was also a VCR/DV player integrated into the computer. But back to Final Cut. Final Cut is one of the hardest programs ever created. Think of it as Adobe Photoshop, Macromedia Flash MX, Powerpoint, and every other complex graphic program. I spent an hour learning it’s basic functions, and had only learned the basics OF the basics. Production was going to be harder than I thought, but I was not going to be deterred. I was going to have a show, even if it killed me.

Soon it was time for me to leave, so I checked out a camera and tripod so I could learn the basics of film. Then two awful and bad things happened. 1. My mom had to drop me off at the school library, which wasn’t that bad unless it was in conjunction with 2. My backpack was in my dads car, and he didn’t have a cell phone. I was screwed. I began to feel like a Pink Floyd song, surreally depressed. I had everything to gain and everything to lose. It was a feeling of utter joy and sorrow simultaneously. I became comfortably numb for about an hour.

I got home at about 7:00. I couldn’t do anything until my father got home. I pacified myself with music and my computer. My dad came home around 9:30, leaving me with no time to do any homework. So I basically said screw it and called it a night.

An interesting note about me and sleeping. When I’m in bed, I am at a state of utter relaxation. There is nothing you can do about anything when you’re lying in bed, so there is no point in worrying. That’s why I always sleep soundly.
10:00 P.M.

8,062

October 12, 2006
5:00 A.M. and then 6:04 A.M.

I technically “woke up” at five, but I wasn’t conscious. I went through the routine of turning off my alarms, and then passed out again. I woke up at 6:04, and then REALLY woke up. I had to be at the bus stop in fifteen minutes. The morning was an obscenity filled blur. I took the shortest shower ever, and then had to leave the house in my slippers because I did not have the time to tie shoes.

So I ran, hair wet, slippers on feet, in 40F weather to the bus stop. Surprisingly I didn’t miss it. That was the minor perk of my day, not missing the bus. Unfortunately, that would be one of my few perks. Everything that day was down hill. Jazz Choir was uneventful, although we were told that there would be no Jazz Choir the next day. Band was uneventful and evil.

MATH WAS SUCK. I managed to get five and ½ out of my eight assignments done, and my teacher wouldn’t give me any extensions. AND we had a test. %$&#! The test was easy, however, and I didn’t have any problems on it except for the mixture question. Mixture questions are the Mrs. Drollinger of math. ‘Nuff said. Biology was even more down hill. We got our grades for our RAFT assignments. I got a seventeen. OUT OF TWENTY EIGHT! I had the most popular performance, and got ONE OF THE LOWEST GRADES IN THE CLASS! %$&#! I’m pretty sure my science teacher hates me.

Lunch doesn’t deserve mentioning. Spanish was calming and lacked the ability to piss me off. We were placed into groups and assigned the task of making a fashion show in Spanish. My friend Aaron claimed that this time his group was going to “beat” me this time. Foolish Aaron. He didn’t know that I was planning to unleash something legendary, something that was only spoken about in dark hallways and behind my back. I was going to unleash Emo Max. Yes Emo Max. I would have to become that which I hate for a good laugh. Not only could I pull it off flawlessly, but I would completely blow him out of the water. Yes, he would soon find out of his dire situation. The assignment was due the next Monday, giving us four days to work on it. It was an easy assignment that we planned unleash at the last possible moment.

English was a gigantic social hour, I figured that I would work on the assignments that were due the next day at home. That’s when the world fell around my ankles. I had a sectional to do, meaning I had to either show up early for marching practice or stay late after school. I decided on going over to my friend Marshal’s house with my friend Justin. But in order to do that we’d have to wait until 3:20.

I suggested on going over to YCTV, which was right across the street from transfer. Justin was all for it, but Marshall said that he would stay at school and meet back up with us on the bus to his house. I dragged Justin over to YCTV and showed him the wonder that is public access. We could only spend about five minutes there, so I showed him the editing bays and the studio, and we headed over to transfer just in time to catch the bus to Marshal’s house. Marshal’s is always fun. We watched selected parts of Heroes (I had missed the previous night’s episode,) while enjoying lemonade and chocolate chip cookies. Then we tackled Justin and tickled him. Yes, we tickled him. Justin has very ticklish sides, and by grabbing them he basically goes into convulsions. That’s what you get for being the tall skinny kid.

Suddenly there was a complete shift in activity. We went downstairs. Marshal played DDR-2 MAXX while Justin and I beat the crap out of each other. I’d put him in a headlock, he’d bite my arms and try to give me limpies, it was a lot of fun. Then there was another shift of attention and we went to his computer. There we enjoyed multiple screamers, mainly to see the look on Justin’s face when they finally screamed.

The fun and games couldn’t last, and we had to move onto one of the worst marching band practices of my life. It started with the sectional, called by someone who wasn’t a section leader. He’s a senior, and I respect him a lot, however, he technically doesn’t wield any power. He made me and the others stand at attention and do some stupid basic marching drill. It wasn’t challenging, just a waste of time. Once that was done my section leader made me play my music from memory, although she already knew I already had my music memorized.

After that waste of my life, I looked at my midterm, and died a little inside. It was called Allegro In F, but its real name is Holy **** 16th Notes!, after what I said when I saw the music. I had to play a part of it for my midterm by the next day. I spent my entire time up to the actual marching band practice ATTEMPTING to play the piece. The rehearsal was the worst part of my day, like the entire universe was building up to the one moment. Multiple factors made it miserable for me.
1. The ground was wet, which in turn made my slippers wet.
2. I couldn’t go barefoot, thus ruining my slippers even more.
3. My section leader is a ***** (I finally told her I wouldn't be doing anything she said anymore.)
4. I was tired and still had homework to do when I got home.

A crappy day indeed. I finally got home at 9:45 P.M., said screw it, called it a day, set my alarm, and went to bed.
10:00 P.M.

9,065

Let's see now...

The story is...well, not as exciting as it could be. Parts of it are entertaining, but some of these later installments give the impression that you are simply plowing through the word count. Try being more excited while typing, and truly enjoy writing it for the fun and not simply the word count and bragging rights.

Keep these things in mind. The story, which is not a bad idea, could use a touch more care when it comes to detail, emotion, and grammar. Other than that, not bad...

October 13, 2006
12:00 A.M. 2:43 A.M. 4:30 A.M. and finally 5:00 A.M.

There is something wrong with my cell phone. It is evil. I have associated waking up (which is never good) with my cell phone, and therefore hate it. As if that weren’t bad enough, every once in a while it gets the evil little idea of waking me up at random hours of the night. My morning wasn’t nice, but better than it was the day before. Even though I had been woken up over five times during the night, I was filled with as much energy as was possible at six in the morning. There was a slight problem that morning, I couldn’t find my shoes. I couldn’t wear my slippers again, they were still recovering from the previous night’s events. I spent way too long looking for my shoes and was actually later out of the house than I had been the previous day.

I set out of the house at a fast pace, but I wasn’t able to keep it up. I figured I wouldn’t miss the bus, it was usually late. That day it wasn’t. Meaning that I had to run after the bus for half a block. I’m lucky the driver saw me and stopped, or else my entire morning would’ve been screwed up. Actually my morning WOULDN’T have been screwed up if I missed the bus, but I didn’t know that yet. I arrived at Jazz Choir to find out that it wasn’t. I had flaked out and forgot that there wasn’t any Jazz Choir. Meaning I had wasted an hour of my life that I could have used for sleeping. It didn’t really get me down, for I had bigger problems that day. Problems like my band midterm, my history project, and an English portfolio, all of which were due that day.

I spent my band period furtively fingering my midterm. Yes, I know it sounds dirty. I am perfectly aware of what the term “fingering” means in a non-band sense. My part was filled with 16th note runs, which I had never had to play on a tenor saxophone before. I spent every spare moment I had trying to learn the part. Alas, there was only a finite amount of time to practice, and I had to move onto math.

As usual, nothing was done in math. My teacher told me that she was disappointed in me, and said that if I worked harder I would be getting an A in her class. Shahida told me that she would have an answer to my homecoming question during science. Everyone finished up their tests while I borrowed someone’s history notes and began throwing them into a timeline.

Science was even less productive than math. We had a sub, who wasn’t exactly on the ball. We had to do a stupid little graphing assignment (which I didn’t do.) When she found out that I didn’t do my graph, she questioned me as to why. I replied that I would be doing it at home. She doubted I could do this. Mind you that all she had seen me do that day was talk and do stupid things with my friends. She had no idea of what intelligence I really did or didn’t have. It was great, I either confused or infuriated her, maybe both at the same time. Either way it was a pleasurable experience. But it could not last, Shahida had her answer. No, she couldn’t go to homecoming with me, she was going with someone ELSE. I went numb for the rest of the period.

History had a brief moment of interest. I had a random half sheet of paper that I had ripped of an assignment. I bet my friend that I could eat half of it. He bet me a dollar that I couldn’t. He ended up owing me a dollar. It’s actually not that hard to eat large amounts of paper, you just have to tear of strips, chew them into a pill shape and swallow them. Not hard at all.

Lunch was crappy. I was in a hurry to complete my English portfolio on time. Eight short poem analyses with paragraphs to summarize, and a two paragraph essay. I wolfed down my food and ran up to the school library to work. Half an hour is not enough time to get a project done, I soon realized that I was screwed. So I did something I don’t normally do. I gave up. I quit. I said screw it, and went and enjoyed the rest of my lunchtime.

I was apathetic about Spanish. Nothing really happened, we just worked more on our fashion show things. We didn’t really work, we just messed around.

English was miserable. I politely asked my English teacher for an extension on the assignment or if I could turn it in late, both of which she replied with a resounding no. That put a major damper on my day. I spent that class period working hard, but to no avail. I had to turn the assignment in incomplete. I had a B in the class, meaning that the lack of portfolio probably dropped it down to a C+, if I was lucky.

After school was a much better time. I had gone to the band room filled with dread, and left with happiness. My director had given me an extension, I would be performing my midterm on Monday. This gave me a near orgasmic sense of relief, and my day continued to go up from there. I took the city bus down to YCTV and stayed there ‘till about 5:30. During that time, I learned a lot more about Final Cut. For example, Final Cut has a 1,500 page instruction manual. When I came in I was handed my assignment for the day. Using a tape given to me, I had to edit it into a presentation using certain features of the program. It took me about an hour and a half to queue it up into the format requested. I had to get the clips down to the frame, and there are thirty frames to a second, and that’s why it took so long. Once I finished that my instructor showed me how to insert text into the clips. I spent my last half hour there inserting funny little jokes that corresponded with the clips, example, one of the clips was a red moving pattern that reminded me of a siren light, and the music playing was a flute. So I pasted in big bold letters “OH NO! A RED ALERT! ACTIVATE FLUTE!” It was corny, but I found it a little funny.

My day continued to get better when I got home. My dad had found a CD that my friend had left over at our house for me a couple of months back. And what was on it? Enough techno to choke a camel. The addition brought my music library up to a startling 1,700 items. Wow. For the rest of the night, I listened the crap out of all that new music.

10:00 P.M.

10,261

October 14, 2006
Let’s say 9:00-ish

A lazy Saturday, or at least that’s what I wished it was. No, I couldn’t be granted the privilege of a quiet weekend. No, my mom had remodeling fever. Our house is a fixer upper. Always has been. Always will be. My mom had the idea that we should try to fix up the living room with some paint and a tiny bit of remodeling. She wasn’t going to do this herself, oh no, she was going to get some of her friends involved. Meaning that my morning of relaxation was ruined. No, today I would have to “wear clothes”, and “take a shower” and “not lounge around the house in my boxers.”

The day wasn’t actually that bad. I was able to mess around on my computer and pump music out of my stereo. My mom tried to complain, but her friends husband (who was doing the work) said that he was fine with the music and said, “If the music is too loud, you’re too old.” It turned out that he liked all kinds of music, from country to techno, it was all good. All I had to do was set Windows Media Player to shuffle and let the tunes play.

My day was mostly laziness, I played video games for a while, but what I was looking forward to was that night. One of my best friends, Chris was having his birthday party. It was the perfect place to do my homework for YCTV. I was assigned to get some footage that I could edit the next Friday. Chris’s party would be the best place to do it. When Chris and I got together, funny things always happened. But that was hours from now.

I still didn’t have a ride or a gift for him. A gift was easy to get. He liked Weird Al. I happened to have six albums that he didn’t. So I simply burned the six albums onto a data disc. Easy. The ride was harder to arrange. My father was planning a dinner party, that I WAS going to go to if I didn’t have to go to Chris’s. There was my problem. Both of my parents were going to be at the dinner party, and couldn’t take me over to Chris’s. Meaning I’d need a ride. I was about to pull out my hair in frustration when Chris called and offered to pick me up. Convenient, indeed. Chris picked me up, and once I loaded my camera and tripod into his car, we were off.

His dad’s house was over in West Valley, so it took a few minutes to get to his house. When we got to his house, his girlfriend Justina was waiting for us. Justina is okay, we really don’t associate too much, and so we aren’t exactly the friendliest towards each other. We socialized when we had to. Chris’s party was pretty good. It wasn’t anything too great, but it wasn’t boring. It was like a good low budget film, you enjoyed it, but you knew it could be better.

We played Lego Star Wars while we waited for everyone else to arrive, and by everyone else, I mean one other person, Lisa, and we didn’t exactly play Lego Star Wars, Chris and Justina played it, and I filmed random stuff. About half an hour after I started the tape, Lisa arrived, with a cake. A HOMEMADE cake. A homemade CARROT cake. I’m sorry to say, but I think that carrot cake is one of the worst desserts ever invented. That and pineapple upside down cake. In fact, anything with pineapple in it is crap and is not fit for human consumption, EVER. I was saved from having to eat the cake. There was a piece missing from it, (apparently she had to check to make sure the cake was okay) and she had filled the empty space in with frosting. I wanted that slice of frosting. Bad.

Now mind you, my friend Chris has Attention Deficit Disorder, and I do too. There was a countless amounts of shenanigans and unfinished conversations regarding the cake. It took me about five minutes to convince him to let me have the frosting, and another three for me to finally get the piece. Having expended time and energy to acquire the cake, I hoped it was worth it. I took some frosting from the cake and stuck it in my mouth. Ever taste candy corns? Well that was the flavor of the frosting. The frosting was DEFINITLEY worth it.

We sat down on the various couches and chairs and waited for the movie start. Once again, it took much longer than normal, as we were distracted by various things, most of which were shiny. I entertained myself by messing with camera effects, until finally Chris had the DVD in the player. We were going to watch Kingdom Of Heaven. Starring Orlando Bloom. Gag. Orlando Bloom is one of my least favorite actors. The girls gots the hots for him, and that’s the only reason why he is popular. I especially hate him due to a certain Disney amusement ride turned movies. My school’s mascot is the pirate. As a result, everyone loves Pirates of the Caribbean. Now I do accept the fact that it is a good movie, but I really detest the fact that it is the movie everyone wants to watch on a lazy Friday night. I think the conversation goes like this.

“I’m bored, what should we do?”

“I have an idea, let’s watch Pirates Of The Caribbean!”

“Yes, that is a great idea, because we definitely not seen it over fifty thousand times!”

And then the idiots proceed to watch the movie with a glazed over expression as they quote the entire movie word for word. I can’t stand it. People are such idiots some times.

The movie was okay, despite having Orlando Bloom in it. Parts of it appealed to my sick and twisted nature, like Orlando Bloom’s wife killing herself, the German guy going berserk and being awesome, and the guy with leprosy, but that was because I had an obsession with wondering what he looked like under his mask.

The night was pretty fun, and I acquired a whole bunch of good material that I would use for YCTV. I was really tired in the end though, and I crashed upon climbing into bed.

11:00 P.M.

11,340

Sorry for shortness and postponement!

October 15, 2006
9:00-ish

Ah Sunday. Sundays are always peaceful for me, and with good reason. Both of my parents are off at church, and I have time to be in peace and do my homework. But as seemed to be the pattern that weekend, I wouldn’t be granted that wish. My dad wasn’t feeling well, so he decided to stay home.

Well, the day didn’t completely suck, my dad made me a ham and cheese omelet, but along with the omelet, he gave me a cocktail of vitamins. My dad has a firm belief in vitamins, and how good they are for you, I don’t. I believe that anything you don’t get from food, you don’t need. But I’ve fought too many times with my father on what I would and wouldn’t eat, so I just gave in and took them.

The omelet was delicious, my dad is an awesome cook, but I had to eat fast, so I could get on to my homework. I didn’t really need to rush, I had until 5:00 to work, but I wanted to be done quickly. The only real homework I had to do was Spanish. I thought that I could have a father son moment by asking if he would help me with my Spanish homework. My dad is fairly fluent in Spanish, he can have a simple conversation, so I thought that I he would be able to be of some use. He was able to help me, that wasn’t the problem, the problem was he wanted to be an overachiever. He wasn’t satisfied with my simple answers to questions, he insisted that I include adverbs and other forms of grammar that I wasn’t supposed to know yet. I told him that I wasn’t supposed to, but he was very firm in me being an overachiever. I finally folded and did it, I really didn’t want to get into a fight about it, we bicker about stupid things too much, and my day was going too well.

Having all my homework done left the entire rest of my day free. Free to do whatever I want. I could look for a solution to world hunger, find a cure for cancer, but no, I figured the best use of my time was sitting around listening to music. Yes, that was my day, listening to music. Its not like it wasn’t fun, It just wasn’t really… meaningful or something like that.

Youth group was more meaningful. I continued being the worship team’s lackey, and even got Shahida to come to church again. The night was good. Until service started. Too many people in the group I was sitting in were talking. I couldn’t believe it. My friends were whispering to each other while we were supposed to be listening. I couldn’t stand it, so I moved over to an empty pew so I could actually listen. The service wasn’t that good, but it was the principle of being polite and listening.

I actually couldn’t really pay that much attention and soon found my mind wandering. I began to think about my innocence, whether I was a good person with some bad habits or a bad person with some good habits. It soon got me really upset and anti social, so instead of talking with my friends, I immediately called my mom and ran to the car when she got there. The day was having a crappy ending, so I went to bed an hour earlier than I usually do, and hoped the next day would be better.

10:00P.M.

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