Posts Tagged ‘birthdays’

I was right about thinking something exciting was going to happen! My mother is pregnant!

October 23, 2008

So, I kind of had an inkling (okay, more than an inkling) about this for a looong time, and today my mother and father called a family meeting and told us. It is exciting, though it will be pretty crazy to have eight kids in the house, not to mention a baby again.

Tomorrow my mother will be going to get an ultrasound and find out when the baby is due (sometime before January, maybe even before Christmas!!!!!!) and maybe the gender. My parents are still deciding on whether they want to know.

With this EXTREMELY exciting news, everything else I had to say (or did not have to say) pales greatly in comparison.

NaNoWriMo is coming up, as is Halloween and Emma’s eleventh birthday!

Clubs were fun today.

Yours truly, EXCITED,

-Hope.

P.S. Oh, and I finished the cowl/hood thing today!

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So You Had Another Perfectly Nice Day, Huh, Punk?

April 21, 2008

Yes, I did. Does that entitle me to some mysterious and fantastic prize beyond my wildest dreams?

Sorry, I am just being dumb. Though my day was far from it.

This morning, at around seven in the morning, I got ready and went with my dad to his work. It was there that I bought cookies and read the book Beastly while he worked for a few hours. Then we left.

After that we drove over to the nearby Target as well as The World Market, where we bought my sister Clara’s birthday gifts. She turns thirteen tomorrow. Oh, joy, another teenager in the house. That makes three, though my older brother is mainly at college and is going to be nineteen in a few months, anyway.

Clara is one of those wretched faux-punk types, the type who wears black and pink and skulls and stuff not to make a statement or anything, but because her friends do and she therefore thinks it is cool. On the contrary, I would almost rather her be a punkish poser than a preppy Hollister/Abercrombie/American Eagle-wearing clone. Actually, she does own a Hollister top, and I slightly despise her for it. But anyway, I am getting way off track… we basically got her sour patch kids and swedish fish (at least she has good taste in favorite candies), a white and goldish hat, these sparkly grey leggings, cupcake mix (she likes to bake- I have to give her some props for that), and pop rocks. A dandy, candy and treat- filled birthday she shall have.

Now, as for The World Market- quite frankly, I loved it. There were so many fantastic things there, stuff you cannot get any place else without searching most thoroughly.

I figured out why my pocket watch was not working exactly as it should, by the way- being silly and excited and giddy and all, I did not even think about winding it up. Now that I have done so, it works perfect.

My birthday is in nine days- a tremendously exciting figure.

Today I began a knitting a hat on a loom I borrowed from my next-door neighbor, an eight-year old friend of my sister Emma. It is a soothing purple color and I hope to finish it tonight.

I am absolutely mesmerize by the rain. It has been falling on and off all day and, apparently, is supposed to continue for the next two days. I truly hope it does.

My mother pointed out that something was growing in the planter where I planted flowers a few days ago. Sure enough, all three of my plants had little buds. They are going to be red, yellow, and/or orange flowers. Lovely colors, plus I believe they attract hummingbirds.

I am pretty much positive that the “miniature cactus” of the past was merely a fluke, as it has miraculously disappeared since then. Nothing else has grown in the little pot since.

Oh my, this is lovely- I can hear the delightful ticking sound of my pocket watch hanging right near my heart. I am grinning ear to ear right now.

I love you, world and people in it.

“What about your heart? Are you going to take that back, too?”

April 17, 2008

Now, now, is this not magnificent? Today is one of my friend’s (her name is Danya) birthdays. It also happens to be Blah, Blah Blah Day and National Cheese Ball Day. I did not celebrate the latter.

The letter of the day is D, meaning that of course the two words of the day begin with that letter. They are dissimulate (means to fake or kid) and dystopia (which is a place where all is as horrible as possible). I used both of them multiple times today.

Evidently, my pocket watch was not shipped until yesterday. I believe it fares from North Dakota, so it should take three or four days to get here. I am hoping so, at least. One can hope (especially when Hope is her name such as myself).

Today was a half day at school, which was excellent.

In Gym we skipped the embarrassing sports-playing and hiked a trail behind the school. A river ran through it and the view was spectacular. Near the end of the trail, there was a clearing where no sounds were heard but the river running and the rhythmic sounds of my classmates skipping stones. It was lovely; the place was so serene, so… peaceful. Not at all like school, particularly Gym, normally is.

I finished Consuming Kids and have now moved on to The Making of a Name. I am already about halfway done with it and have learned much.

Today was Thursday, meaning that it was Pancake Thursday at my house. Unfortunately, I do not particularly like pancakes, but it was a nice dinner nonetheless. My almost-senile step-grandmother did not, for once, ask what my shirt said. The shirt that she has had this very same question answered many times prior about.

After school I did my homework and then went outside in the hammock for a bit, reading. Then I watched over Lydia for a while as she played in the chicken yard and caught our rooster, Ezra, countless times.

Those tasks took up basically my entire afternoon.

Today in Algebra II we began learning how to divide polynomials into each other using long division. Strangely enough, I love to do this. When I have finished a problem, the crisp, clear numbers cover my page in a fantastic pattern, with the answer neatly boxed in at the top. I am not one to brag, but I checked my answers in the back of the book and found that I got every single homework question right.

Ugh, I dislike this hot weather. I have said it before and will inevitably say it again many more times, but I really prefer colder weather to hot. Because, as I have said before, I would rather freeze to death than burn. And, unfortunately, I feel as if I will do the latter whenever I go out in this scorching heat.

Hank Green has a new video up that I watched and commented upon. I love those videos. Each and every one of them.

Whoa, I just trailed off in my mind and remembered something odd- a few years ago, one of my uncles purchased each of the kids in my family a package of playing cards, ones with pictures of United States terrorists on them. I really, really wanted to play with them, but my parents would not allow me to. They claimed that they would be worth something in a number of years yet, really, who the heck wants to spend money on little pieces of cardstock with terrorists on them? I have always wondered what happened to them, either way.

They are probably squirreled away along with all of the baby teeth they ‘stole’ from the Tooth Fairy.

Hey, did you know that more people are killed annually by donkeys than in plane crashes? Just some food for thought.

Plaster your walls with remnants of your nonexistent future.

Draw something in your mind resembling an imperfect picture.

 

Melancholy.

“How are you?”

“Alright.”

“I thought your name was Ronaldo?”

“And I thought you had a brain. Everyone makes mistakes.”

I have multitudinous thoughts swirling about my head right now, all attempting to stir up trouble.

March 29, 2008

A few of the many-

[1]A movie I watched today; it is titled The Other. We received it on Netflix a day or two ago, and nobody knows who added it to the queue. It’s a 1970’s thriller, at least according to the DVD sleeve. Anyway, I had nothing constructive to do (not that watching a movie is very constructive, either) so I decided to watch it. I brought my secret knitting project into my bed along with one of our portable DVD players and began to watch it while simultaneously, “knitting up a storm,” as I put it on my Facebook status.

The movie is, well, to say the least, creepy. It stars identical twins, Niles and Holland, and circles around a series of strange occurrences that Niles is sure are not ‘accidents,’ as everybody believes.

Regardless, I watched it all the way through and switched off between sadness and fear. It really is an excellent movie, though, now one of my absolute favorites, and I highly recommend it.

[2]Earth Hour- as you may already know, tonight marks this year’s Earth Hour. During the hour of 8:00- 9:00 tonight, people are urged to turn their lights off. I have wanted to do this, but I just know I’m going to be terrified out of my wits because my parents conveniently decided to go out some where tonight to search for a button (no, I’m serious) and my siblings all conveniently decided that, for the first time in many months, that they all wanted to go out as well. That leaves me alone here, for three or four hours, including during the time when the lights are all going to be turned off. I am getting shivery just thinking about it, truthfully. Luckily, though, I have a battery-powered book light and am going to be reading in my bed with my cell phone and I-pod handy right next to me.

[3]Emotions- I really don’t see how this is possible, but at the moment I am feeling extremely happy. However, at the exact same time, I also feel so utterly sad it’s ridiculous, and additionally very angry. Again, I ask, how is this possible? I really wish my emotions were not so mixed up right now…

[4]Fruit-flavored fruit-scented things- I really love things that smell of fruits. Whether it be a pencil, candle, soap, shampoo, play dough, marker, or just plain anything, I get really crazy about this sort of thing. They just smell so, so, very good that I wish to eat them, even though they are not edible and I know, deep down inside, that they would probably poison me and not even taste good after all. Also, I know that I tasted play dough a few months ago and, no matter how tasty it looked, it was actually extremely salty and not very good at all. So, all in all, I guess I should just stay away from any inedible things that smell or look good before I do something I will regret.

[5]Spam- sue me, but I love spam. Junk mail in my inbox, telemarketers trying to sell me things, and so on… I like them all and enjoy receiving them. That may be why I made my main NaNoWriMo character of last year have a job sending spam to companies to foil their websites and all. Yes, that sounds quite likely, now that I think about it.

[6]Birthdays- this is mainly about wishing a happy birthday to Laura, as well as John Tyler. Here’s hoping that you have a good one!

It is also, however, about how excited I am for my own birthday, which is exactly a month from today.

[7]Harry Potter- judging by the amount of times on here that I have referred to Harry Potter in some way, I would think it is quite obvious that I love the series. Every single character, even Voldemort, is one whom I adore. I spend at least an hour-and-a-half every single day doing various Harry Potter-related activities, from the traditional reading of the books to reading fanfiction and looking at fanart to thinking up possibilities for what various characters acted like in the times not mentioned in the books. I. Love. Harry. Potter. That’s basically all.

[8]Nostalgia- of my childhood and future, past and present, basically I have found myself reminiscing quite often in recent times. I will not go into any of it right now, because that would take too long and I don’t feel like dwelling even more so on it, but I just wanted to put this out there. Because it sometimes helps to vent.

God, how I wish I had a Pensieve right about now…

(END OF RANTING)

A couple of fantastic words, all of which essentially mean to tinker or fool around with, dabble, waste time, etc:

[1]Boondoggle

[2]Lollygag

[3]Dillydally

(END OF POST)

Wow, it seems like it’s a Sunday.  There goes my warped sense of time again…

Well, I am going now. And hurrah, my parents just called to tell me they’re bringing home Chipotle for dinner…

Ugh, never mind, the line is out the door and the online ordering thing isn’t working… ah, well, now we’re going to have barbeque. Oh boy, isn’t that exciting? Of course it is. For me, at least.

Anyway… so long, ping pong.

A Cornucopia of Fascinating Days, Along With Stories

March 28, 2008

Today is a Friday, and That Could Only Mean That It’s Ten Word Day… and indeed it does mean that.  Today’s letter of the day is Q, by the way.  The actual holiday is Something on a Stick Day, though.

 For Q Day, here are a few nice Q words.  They were tough to find, considering there are only about three pages of Q words in my dictionary!

[1]QUERULOUS- irritable, peevish

[2]QUANDARY- a state of doubt

[3]QUIBBLE- a minor objection

[4]QUALMISH- squeamish

I will now give the ten words of the day, chosen from the best sort of book in the world (which you should all know is a dictionary).

[1]Howbeit- although, nevertheless

[2]Octogenarian- a person whose age is in the eighties (such as Numbers!!!)

[3]Shoddy- poorly done or made

[4]Vociferate- to cry out loudly, shout

[5]Jejune- empty, dull

[6]Glee- joy, hilarity

[7]Banzai- a Japanese cheer of triumph

[8]Astir- in motion, moving

[9]Decorous- proper, seemly, correct

[10]Frugal- economical, thrifty

Now, wasn’t that a fantastic caboodle of words?  My favorite would have to be either octogenarian or glee, though I am looking forward to crying out BANZAI after doing something spectacular or something of the sort…

And here comes a short story, inspired by my friend Courtney mentioning to me that it smelled like rain was to come soon.

Anther Anew, Weatherman Extraordinaire

People knew that Anther Anew was different from his first uttering. His parents had realized that he was not exactly the same as other babies before his first birthday, his first word having been hullabaloo. Yet they dismissed this peculiarity as a sneeze because they just wanted their son to live a fairly normal life. However, Anther was born to do great things. He would never have been content, at least not deep down, with being an average boy. After all, he was born a weatherman.

Hold on, he was born a weatherman?

Yes, a weatherman. From the time of his birth, he was a weather man. And, indeed, he was the best weather man in the universe.Why, you may ask, was Anther such a fantastic weatherman? He was eight years old, for goodness sakes! Well, when Anther was born a very ancient sort of magic was soaked into him. Nobody knows how, nobody knows why, but Anther was destined to become the only weatherman that would ever be necessary. In all of the entire world.Weathermen often get things wrong; this is because weather is so untimely- it cannot be predicted completely accurately, not at all. In fact, the majority of the time they are not correct. Because of this, a few super smart guys got together and decided to make something, something that could be implanted with a simple spray into a chosen newborn.

This newborn was chosen out of a baseball cap and, from then on, his fate was decided upon.

This newborn turned out to be Anther Anew.

Anther had extreme powers from the moment he was chosen, the moment he was born, when he was given these powers. These powers caused him to be able to smell the weather.

A rather ingenious idea, the smart guys thought, clapping their hands together with glee. This little boy will have extraordinary powers upon being blessed with this magnificent gift of scent.  And The Scent was pretty magnificent.  It gave Anther the ability to smell the weather, to be able to smell it days, weeks, months, even years ahead of time.  He merely had to tap his head twice, clap once, and hold his right hand into the air in order to find out the weather. Rainy days were most obvious, which was why Anther liked them the best.  The rain’s scent was strongest, even smelt by mere mortals, and therefore he could predict it easily. Mere rain, once predicted, only led to one of two options- either another day of rain or sun to follow, and rainbows were sometimes even thrown into the mix. Therefore, obviously, these times were the least stressful for Anther and often the most fun. He would predict the weather, send his report into the independent radio and weather station the super smart guys had set up for him, and be able to enjoy the rest of the day off.Naturally, being the best weatherman in the world was a fantastically fun job for a little boy like Anther. He was practically a super hero, at least in his eyes. He would punch his fist into the air with a banzai, exclaiming, “my rainy senses are tingling!” or whatever other weather was to come.It was a lovely job, dreadfully lovely, to be able to save people’s lives by warning them of oncoming hurricanes or tornadoes. “My hurricane senses are tingling!” he would yell. “Take cover, those of low dwellings!”

It was an amazing job, tremendously amazing, and Anther loved it.

Because it was fun.

(END OF STORY)

Alright, so that didn’t turn out very well… it was so roundabout, and switched back and forth between half-senses and complete poppycock.  Ah, but I had fun writing it, and that is all that mattered.

Now, for a continuation of Silvester Gardner’s gripping tale.  Where we left off, Silvester had just gotten hit by a car and unfortunately killed, or so the policemen and streetsfolk thought.

Recap:

“I wished to make a difference,” said Silvester. “Now I will never have a chance.”

“That, Silvester, is false. Has not anybody told you that lying is wrong?” the voice said, admonished, more like.

“Nobody has told me anything,” Silvester acknowledged. “Other than what I have known the entire span of my existence, I think.”

“Do not fret, my boy. You will soon have a chance for your difference.”

“How so?” asked Silvester.

“You will see, Silvester,” the voice said solemnly. “All in due time.”

Continuation and conclusion:

“What is that supposed to mean?” Silvester thought rather sleepily. For he was becoming drowsy, awfully drowsy, and began to drift off into an afternoon nap unlike any rest he had ever had before.

“Wake up, Silvester.”

“Hmm?” murmured Silvester groggily, blinking wearily. “Oh, was I asleep? I am sorry…”

“Yes, my dear boy, you were sleeping for quite some time. But let’s not apologize. We have work to do.”

Silvester blinked again. “Work?”

“Catch on fast, eh?” A chuckle was heard. “Well now, we cannot waste another minute. Get up Silvester, stand up and stretch a bit!”

“Er, alright,” Silvester agreed, following the voice’s orders and simultaneously wondering where it was coming from. It did not sound anything like the voice from earlier, the woman’s, and he marveled at the fact that he was still not dead.

Yet, as he looked around, Silvester also wished to know where he was. It was almost as if he were standing on a blank canvas, in a way. Everything around him was a bright, clear white.

“Where am I?” he finally asked.

“Now, now, as I said, we have no time to waste with your petty curiosity.

I was told you were a young one, my boy, but I was not alerted of how very thin you were. We must get some meat on those bones, son, and quickly!”

“Actually, I am fine, thanks,” Silvester said modestly, looking down. “I have already eaten today.”

“I can scarcely believe that! And even if you have, I doubt it was very filling. Why, you look as if you have not eaten an adequate meal in a decade!”

“Not to be rude, Sir,” said Silvester. “But, seeing as I am not yet five I find it impossible to believe that. I am not even half a decade, Sir.”

“Sure you’re not! Yet you have that vocabulary, coupled with that air you have about you, an air that I would say befits one well beyond your years!”

Silvester smiled shyly. “I am pleased that you think so, Sir.”

“Ah, and there will be no need to call me Sir for the time being! Call me Scott, good boy, just Scott.”

A sudden realization made Silvester flinch. “Scott, Sir?” he asked anxiously. “Your name is Scott?”

“Yes, boy, and as I clearly said you may call me the very same.” The man was obviously somewhat frustrated.

“But- does that mean- are you by any chance Great Scott? As in The Great Scott? The one of legends?”

“The one and only,” Scott said humbly. “My, Son, you do have a quick mind.”

Silence followed as Silvester looked on in awe.

“But, Silvester, let that not change your view of me! I am merely human, just as you are, and must be treated as one. Do not allow mindless blither blather of history books belittle that fact.”

Silvester quickly composed himself. “Of course not, Sir. I mean, Scott,” he corrected.

“Yes, Scott. Perfect, my boy,” said Scott with rapid procession. “Now then, down to the very essence of the reason you are here.”

Silvester waited.

“Well, as you know, you died,” Scott began.

“In the strictest sense, yes,” agreed Silvester. “The question is, why am I still here if that rings true?”

“You were not supposed to die, Silvester,” said Scott quietly, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “The question really is, why did you? Death normally remains supportive of what we tell him, considering we have what he envies most.”

Silvester looked on quizzically. “Which is…?” he suggested.

“Life,” Scott said simply. “We have Life, as he constantly reminds us, and he wants is oh so dearly. Because of this, he usually listens to what we tell him. We told him that you were not do die, therefore he would normally have complied.”

“Does that mean that Life and Death are actual… well, living things?” Silvester inquired.

“Well, Death isn’t, but I know what you mean. They both exist, of course. They are not merely creatures of imagination, though humans often think of Death as that. Merely wishful thinking.”

Silvester nodded. “This is fascinating and all,” he suddenly said. “But could we get back on topic.”

“Fine, fine,” said Scott. “You were the one creating the questions, anyway.”

“Yes, go on,” Silvester said, urging Scott to continue.

“So I already told you that you’re dead, correct?” Scott questioned.

“Yes, and that does add a bit of a damper to the situation,” Silvester said.

“Quite cynical, you,” chuckled Scott.

“Quite ambagious, you,” replied Silvester, not smiling.

“That’s a nice poker face,” Scott complimented.

“And that is a nice way of changing the subject,” argued Silvester.

“Fine, you win,” gave in Scott. “So you’re dead and all, and…”

“Yeah, you only mentioned that a few dozen times,” Silvester responded angrily. “Just get to the gist of it, alright?”

“Very well,” Scott sighed. “I believe that your future self will arrive sometime, any minute now, though, and he would better be able to explain everything.”

“My… my future self?” inquired Silvester. “So your lot have figured out time travel?”

“What do you mean, my lot?” said Scott hotly, once again inadvertently.

“I only mean the sort of club you and that other mysterious woman seem to have going on,” defended Silvester. “You know, the whole Mister E. thing. I find it quite annoying.”

“Other woman?” Scott asked “There is no other woman.”

“Oh, then I was speaking to myself?” Silvester questioned disbelievingly. “Right.”

“The only woman who can speak to the dead, or un-dead, in this case, is…”

“Who is it?” Silvester demanded. “Who was the one who spoke to me, told me to be quiet, told me I could change the world?”

“There’s only one woman who would do that, Silvester,” said Scott, no trace of the lightheartedness on his face anymore. “And that would be…,” his voice trailed off once more, his face paling. “But it couldn’t be…”

“Couldn’t be who?” Silvester demanded again.

“It could be,” called out a sudden new voice, deep and sure. A tall man walked onto the scene, a familiar mop of dark locks on his head. “And it is,” he continued. “Unfortunately, it seems that Lama Yonder has come back.” The man shook his head solemnly, then turning to Silvester. “Oh, and by the way,” he said with a small smile. “Doc Gardner here, at your service.” At this he gave a small bow. “I already know who you are, of course. You’re me. Well, me in the past. I am your future self.”

“Impossible,” said Silvester, stubbornly crossing his arms. “I look nothing like you, er, I mean, you look nothing like me.” Seeing Doc Gardner’s emerald green sweater, he added, “Anyway, I loathe green.”

At this, both Doc and Scott chortled. Even with the frown upon Silvester’s face, the resemblance was quite obvious. Though not as thin and a lot taller, the two had the exact same faces. The same eyes, full of curiosity. The very same hair, that was by far the most obvious. The same posture, the way both of them carried themselves; upright, tall, a bit superior yet somehow concurrently humble and wise. Everything was exact, though of course there was apparent age progression differences.

Finally, realizing defeat, Silvester reluctantly shrugged. “So what if we look alike? There is no way I could grow up to be that, or anything for that matter, considering the fact that… well, I am sort of dead.”

“True, very true,” Scott said. “However, we think that, if you wish, spending time with your future self may very well reverse the process. Plus, of course, we will be speaking with Death shortly.”

“And how do I know that you are not just trying to get me to like Doc?” Silvester asked suspiciously. “So that, you know, the blow will be even worse when I go off to wherever dead people go.”

“Would I really do that?” asked Scott, recoiling in offense.

“Yes,” answered Silvester.

“Very wise, this one,” Doc said, smiling once again. “I can see where I take after.”

“You think you are a real hoot, don’t you?” Silvester asked, his face going red again. “Well, I think you aren’t. No, know you aren’t. Anyway, are both of you so stupid that you have failed to realize the fact that you basically dismissed the whole thing about Lama Yonder? Is she not a threat to people? The way you spoke of her, Scott, I would have thought she terrifies you.”

“Oh, she’s a bit scary, alright,” Scott said with a laugh. “But her threats are empty.”

“Hey!” Doc exclaimed defensively.

“Why do you care?” asked Silvester. “If she’s so evil?”

“She’s not evil,” Scott admitted. “We were just joking around. You’ll find out who she is later, anyway.”

“But I want to know now!” Silvester whined, intelligently of course.

“Stop acting like such a spoiled brat,” admonished Doc. “Scott, was I really this bad as a child?”

“From the way it seems, yes,” Scott said with a grin. “And as for you Silvester, you need to learn patience.”

“And you need to learn proper hygiene,” quipped Silvester.

Doc laughed. “Hey, now, that was offensive!”

“Yeah, weren’t you the one who was all high and mighty about meeting me?” Scott asked. “The Great Scott, I believed you referred to me as?”

“Well, yes, but…,” Silvester mumbled unintelligibly.

“There will be no ‘buts’ about it,” Scott scolded. “Now, off with the two of you! You need to spend some quality time; maybe a thing or two will rub off of you, Doc. I sure hope so.”

Doc laughed and pulled Silvester away. “Forward march!” he called out sternly. Then, much quieter, he said, “Silvester, have you ever had an ice cream cone before?”

After going out for ice cream, Silvester was in a somewhat better mood. “So I’m a doctor in the future?” he asked.

Doc nodded with a grin.

“Magnificent.”

A few seconds passed, reflecting silence.

“You know, you aren’t so bad,” he told Doc.

“Thanks, Silvester,” Doc said, still amused at the fact that the ice cream shop employees had taken Silvester and him as father and son, commenting on the striking resemblance. “That’s great, coming from myself.”

“I bet it is,” said Silvester. He did not have anything to say that would not sound horribly corny. And nothing more needed to be said.

“Thanks, Death,” Scott said gratefully. “I’m glad we worked this little problem out.”

“No problem,” said Death begrudgingly. “See you later, I suppose.”

“Let’s hope that time doesn’t come too soon,” replied Scott nervously.

Though his face was heavily cloaked, Death grinned at this. “Sooner than you think,” he whispered.

“What was that?” Scott asked, turning back before leaving.

“Oh, nothing,” responded Death innocently.

Years passed. Many years, in fact, at least a few decades. Sadly, Scott passed away of unknown circumstances a year or two after his meeting with Death. He had lived a long and full life.

With the ice cream parlor escapade the curse, or whatever it was, was broken, leaving Silvester to wonder many things.

He was transported right back to Earth, back to the scene of the crime, and woke up right away, to the shock of many worried faces looking down at him. “What?” Silvester asked them. “Why are you all staring at me?”

Before anybody could answer, he got up and walked away, not a scratch on his body. Many were convinced he was an angel.

A week or two later, Silvester was legally adopted by a cheerful old woman who lived in a cluttered cottage. She had a son, a grown one, who lived with his daughter a few blocks away. Far too soon than the old woman would have wished, Silvester had graduated high school and his childhood was over, in age at least.

He went on to become a doctor, just as his future and now nearly present self had, or would, at least. At twenty-two years, Silvester met up with the son’s daughter who was barely a month below his own age. After a few years of happy dating, the two got married. A year or two later, they had a beautiful daughter whom they named Rara. The small, elated family lived comfortably for the remainder of their lives.

With a final skim over my history, I grin. It is finally finished, or at least up-to-date: the reason for my life -my parents’ lives, my grandparents’ lives- they are all here. A feeling of happiness overwhelms me, pure joy… all that my ancestors have done, all that I will do. It is all so tremendous, the thoughts jumbled up in my mind right now.

I am Lama, granddaughter of Silvester and Amia Gardner, daughter of John and Rara Yonder. I have a history, I have a mind, I have a life.

Suddenly, I laugh. It is so funny, the bit about the Global Positioning Systems. Nobody uses them anymore, but I thought I would put it in for a laugh. I am sure the generations to come of my family will find it amusing. Perhaps somewhat confusing, but oh well. All that matters is that I am happy, my family is happy, and I am alive.

We are all alive. Even those who are dead, they live in those who remember them and knew them, those who even saw them once or twice… as long as they can recall a single thing about them, a part of them has been left behind.

Marvelous, aren’t we, us humans?

(END OF STORY)

Gee, that was long.  And confusing.  It was tough tying all the bits together and I ended up with seven or so more pages… so yeah, I got somewhat carried away…

And now, for Numbers…

Last left off-

Numbers had a purple wig that he did not know was purple. He had a snazzy pinstriped suit and an equally snazzy goal: revenge. However, Numbers fainted upon seeing himself in the mirror and was rushed to the emergency room.

“Unfortunately, looked like Numbers’ act of revenge would have to wait.”

Numbers’ continuation:

“Bugger off, all of you!” Numbers screamed. “I don’t need your help, you quack! And, as for you, Mister Pokey Pointy Plant, I would advise you to leave before things get nasty.”

The nurse repeated her claim calmly. “Mister Oppenheimer, I apologize if I upset you, but we must continue the procedure if you wish to get better. And the, um, spiky plant… well, Sir, that’s a cactus.”

“Who in tarnation would send me a cactus?” exclaimed Numbers, obviously outraged. “Aren’t people under the weather ‘spose to get those furry animals and them blasted balloons on them dang blasted stringy things?”

“Um, well, yes, I guess so, Mister Oppenheimer, but… I guess, if you’d like, I could… well, the boys who saved your life brought that over for you.”

“Saved my life? A pile of dung’d save my life before them rascally kids… gettin’ inter all sorts a’ trouble in my house, breaking into my own home when I was standing right in it trying to spiff myself up!”

“I’m sorry, Sir, I really am…,” the nurse began nervously. She did not know how to respond to Numbers’ outbursts. The doctor had told her that he may be acting a bit off, but she had not expected such… language… from a short old man such as Numbers.

“Yer not sorry, I know you aren’t! Yer getting paid to do this, stay here and all, but you haven’t done one useful thing for me since… well, since ever!”

“HOLD ON A SECOND!” Numbers yelled irately. “Who dyed my dang hair PURPLE?”

The nurse shrugged. “Um, it was like that when we brought you in, Mister Oppenheimer.”

“I’ll be danged if it wasn’t!” Numbers screamed. “It was brown, thank you very much! And anyway, who had the danged idea of taking my hair out of its ponytail? Now I look like some plug-ugly riffraff, no thanks to YOU!”

The nurse left the room swiftly, rushing to find somebody to help calm down her patient. She grabbed the arm of the nearest doctor and hurried him back into the room.

“Is everything alright, Sir?” asked the doctor calmly.

“Does it look like everything’s alright?” Numbers fumed. “My hair is purple, my fingers are shriveled, and-”

The doctor said something that could not be heard over the sound of Numbers’ yelling.

“What did you just say?” Numbers raged.

“I said that they were always shriveled,” said the doctor, still calm and polite as could be. “And, Sir, you need to calm down.”

Numbers did not respond, merely turning red in the face. “YOU!” he exploded, pointing a long finger at the frightened nurse. “You brought in this cretin, knows nothing about anything, he doesn’t, and- he’s causing all of this- this complete and UTTER RUMPUS!”

The doctor did not seem to know what to say, either. Eventually, though, he managed something. “I am terribly sorry, Sir, if you could give me a minute then I would be happy to find somebody else to assist you with your troubles.”

“WELL, YOU’RE NOT THE ONE WHO HAS TO STAY ALL MANGLED AND ACT AS A SLUGABED, YOU FOOL!” Numbers blew up. “JUST GET YER NO-GOOD FANCY SCHMANCY SLACKS OUTTA MY BUSINESS! LEAVE ME ALONE OR, I SWEAR, I’LL KILL YOU ALL, I WILL!”

Both the doctor and nurse left the room right away, wondering whether Numbers had been given the wrong medication of if he was supposed to be in the mentally insane ward of the hospital.

At the same time, Numbers was wondering how he would possibly be able to keep track of all of the people he wished to get revenge upon. Two more had just been added to the list.

(END OF POST)

 Oh my, this is exciting- tomorrow is Laura’s birthday AND John Tyler’s birthday!!!

Wowie, I have typed more than ever today… and oh boy, it is now the weekend! 

I feel hunky dory right now, peachy keen, full of glee… it’s ridiculous how much so, it really is.

We-ell, I am now going to read some Harry Potter fanfiction and then get off the computer and knit more of my project.  Should be fun.

Peace out!

Of Character Sketches, Grades, and Birthdays

March 28, 2008

I am trying to make this as quick as possible, because I am sneaking on here, (shhh…) as I kind of lost computer for today because of something that I didn’t do but I am not believed about, for some reason… anyway, back to business.

Whew!  My mother just came in the room but I guess she forgot that I lost computer priviledges.

Today, I wrote up three character sketched by choosing random words from the dictionary (one of my favorite things to do) for their names and character traits.

[1]Words drawn: lightning, incision, cortex, expositor; basics: Cortex Expositor was a professional chopper.  Not the flying vehicle kind, oh no.  In fact, he visibly flinched whenever somebody asked him this, for Cortex greatly valued his unusual occupation.  Often times, he would refer to it as pleasant or saintly.  Usually, though, he called it his, “only reason worth living,” or merely a, ‘sacred honor.’  Cortex worked with pride, and more pride a man never did possess; at least, not during his time.

[2]Words drawn: defrock, barber; D. Frock was a well-known barber.  He had round cheeks that were always rosy, small feet that were constantly pitter-pattering around, and a rather impressive set of facial hair that consited of a six-and-a-half inch snow-white beard and curly mustache to match.  He also had a full head of curly, rainbow-colored hair.  No, you did not mis-read that fact.  Due to countless mistakes in hair-cutting and dying adventures, the stout, jolly D. Frock had a head of colors.  As for the ‘D,’ nobody knew what it stood for nor dared to ask.

[3]Words drawn: LIFO, dollop; Lifo Dollop was always, always, always, late.  No matter how early or how late in the day an appointment or other engagement was scheduled for, there had never been a time when Lifo had arrived early or even on time.  He was always the last person to arrive and the first person to leave.

(END OF POST)

No, they are not THAT interesting.  But hey, I wrote them quickly at school and am rushed for time at the moment therefore cannot edit them very much.

Anyway, happy birthday to Julian Glover (voice of Aragog in the Harry Potter movies) and James Potter (if you don’t know who he is, then you are the ultimate failer).  And a happy birthday in advance to my good friend Laura, whose birthday is this Saturday.

As for grades, this tag has to do with the fact that I am pleased to tell you all that I have straight A’s!  I doubt that they will fluctuate much before the end of the term, so they are basically set in stone- and boy howdy, does this make me happy! 

On another note, I decided to take apart the knitting project I began.  I was not very far and not going much of anywhere with it and have now started a simpler, much quicker-moving-along project that I am pretty much in love with. 

 Good night, loves.

If I don’t return, kindly avenge my death.