5.31.2012

Well I meet a person

I was asked to Morp two days before. I am the last minute option, apparently. I also hardly knew the girl that asked me. But I said yes because Megan Francis had already ruined my plans for the night by asking Trevor to Morp. That is how I met Sadie Dodson.
She is a spaz, sure. She thinks that the host of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire is the one who makes the questions. She also quoted everything possible in her graduation speech. She drew a picture of me (which is basically not the only reason I feel compelled to write this).
No but for realz, she is pretty great. I was peeved when we became friends because it was like two weeks ago and now she is graduated. Which really sucks. It was a good few days together and Morp was pretty amazing. You're jealous now. Sorry for having good friends.

She drew this. Pretty great, neh?
Also, I updated my book because, let's be real, the additions I made into my second edition at three in the morning was filled with typos and grammar errors and stupid things. I like this one better.

5.28.2012

Nathan Fillion

So I was watching one of my favorite TV shows, Firefly, and I couldn't help but notice a similarity in hair and eye color between me and Captain Malcolm Reynolds, a character portrayed by Nathan Fillion. Tell me what you think:
The picture is three years old and I was fat. Lay off.
Also, I am going to see The Shins, The Head and the Heart, and Blind Pilot tonight. Just letting you know so you can be jealous.

5.27.2012

Here comes the worst time of the year.

Remember me last year at this time? Yeah, I hate graduation. It makes me cry. I don't like crying, because all my friends laugh at me. Last year will be nothing compared to this year. I am going to cry so much. Just to let you know. At least it'll be the last graduation I cry at.

Jealousy?

I was a little jealous of my friend tonight. He isn't that attractive (I am just guessing here, I have no idea how to judge guys). But really there is a girl who is super pretty who has a crush on himm. I kind of had a pity party for myself. Why do girls not like me? What is wrong with me?
It's simple to admit that I am not that good looking, nice, or even funny. Often I am just a total spaz. But all my brothers are married or have at least had a girlfriend. I just suck, I guess. I must be so unique, I am not even a high school student.
And in reality, I hardly hang out with people my age, relatively speaking. I could handle myself around 20-30 year old people just as well as any teenagers. I don't act like anyone else. I am like what a hipster dreams of being (only I am no hipster). 
I am special because no one else has to be like me. I was the one who was burdened with being this opinionated, rude, smart, smart mouthed, and girl crazy. I am not a catch, but I definitely am something. If girls are fishers, I am not a fish. I am like a rare 1800's flintlock pistol floating in the sea. Cool, unique, fun, funny to tell stories about, but in the end I will probably be thrown back without much regard (because for the most part, girls don't know much about guns). 
So I am no fish. I am just a spaz. But that is why I will be famous and you will have a girlfriend. 
See?




I must be pretty fetching great then.

5.25.2012

So I don't have homework...or school

It is peculiar not having something hanging over me. It hasn't sunk in yet. I keep feeling burdened by AP tests and having to write BS emotional papers (pardon the suggested swearing, I just really hated those papers). I will never have a certain teacher again. I won't have math homework until after my mission at the earliest. I am free. I just need to convince the part of my mind that still feels like I'm procrastinating something.
I can read for pleasure. I can write something I really like. I don't have to wake up at 7:00 every morning to go to torture. It is over for a few months. I am free. I am on my way. I am on my way back to where I want to be.
Also, I really like that chapter.

5.24.2012

It's about time

Well, I have put it off long enough. I don't have any excuses. I really didn't want to put it off, but I ended up doing so. Without many more words, here is the beginning of my first novel:

IT WAS exactly 3:02:00 AM when James Campbell died. He was only twenty-eight when his schedule was through. He needed it, in the long run. He didn’t have family, really, and his friends were just as existent. At least he would get a unique way to go, rather than something depressing like an illness or something boring like a plane crash. No, he was about to go out with a bang, so to speak, because it was 2:59:00 AM and the timeline had a great ending written. Well, before someone changed it, anyway.
James, or Jim, was born in the backroads of Georgia, but he never considered that his home. His parents never cared for them while they were alive, so he was lucky he was only a few months old when they were tried and executed for first degree murder. He entered an orphanage and lived in the home of Henry Townshed, an elderly gentleman living in Glennville, Georgia, until he reached the age of eighteen. Mr. Townshed, Jim just called him Henry, raised twelve children over the course of Jim’s childhood. There wasn’t much order in the home, but for the most part the children behaved themselves. They all appreciated Henry’s kindness. 
Jim never really bothered with schooling. He studied books from the public library rather than going to the local high school. It wasn’t that he didn’t like learning, he simply found it too simple. It was hard for him to be stimulated by formulas he had memorized years before. Jim didn’t have any friends that he knew of. He mostly kept himself private from the world and the world let him be. While most late teen boys were looking forward to their careers, Jim really couldn’t feel interested in any one thing. His mind was too comprehending to be entertained by the careers that most longed for. Plus, without a high school diploma, he knew no college would give him the time of day.
He left the town of Glennville to find something. He never really had a plan and didn’t want to do something he knew he wouldn’t enjoy. So Jim travelled from city to city, doing odd jobs here and there for whatever cash people could spare. He lived in a world where the only constants were himself and the road before him.
His life seemed to be the world he had been in for ten years now: walk, take a bus, or hitchhike to the next town, get enough money for food and commodities, then continue on. Jim couldn’t settle. His world was simple. He knew what would happen. That is, until 3:01 AM.
It wasn’t uncommon for Jim to find himself running or jogging with nowhere to go other than forward. In the early morning hours where he couldn’t sleep, he would just continue on. That morning Jim was among the blue ridge mountains over near Tennessee. The mid-January cold hardly bothered him as the sky started a wet snow. On the road ahead of him was a large group of deer, but Jim wasn’t a threat to them. They could tell he was no threat to them. He was simply another deer as far as they were concerned. Jim stopped twenty five yards away to watch the majestic creatures move almost aimlessly, which of course, was right in line with the timeline.
* * *
Grant Ewell was going for a record. Grant wanted more than anything to get the tanker of gasoline to it’s destination and get home. His anniversary was only two days away and he still had to get to Washington D.C. before he could get back home to Nashville. He had driven through the night the day previously and was starting to do it again.  The longest for driving without sleep was 42 hours straight. So he was shooting to break that, not because he wanted to, but because he had to if he didn’t want his wife yapping at him for the next year. However, breaking the record wasn’t going to happen tonight. It was 3:00:56 AM when he realized he couldn’t drive anymore unless he got some sleep.
“Let’s just get around this corner before I pull over for the night,” he said aloud. It was helpful to him to talk out loud when sleep was threatening his mind. He had read that doing so would keep him alert. It didn’t work. He dosed off at 3:01:32 AM. The timeline was intact.
* * *
The snow picked up while Jim stood, watching and thinking. If he had a desk job, working nine to five, or even a job working on cars or something mechanical, this moment of sheer amazement would not happen. This was the best thing he could do with his life. Jim laughed out loud at his imagined picture of him being a telemarketer. It was just so far from his persona. The laugh frightened a few deer away. No, that wasn’t practical. He hadn’t laughed loud enough to scare that many, plus the ones that ran away were all the way on the other side of the herd. Something was wrong. Jim realized two moments too late. Around the bend came a tanker truck.
Grant awoke to the sound of broken deer under his tires, accompanied by the thuds they caused to the chassis. He had closed his eyes just before the turn. He was at an angle on the road, most certainly heading off the edge in seconds if he didn’t correct himself soon. Grant’s sleepless body mindlessly yanked the wheel to the left. The thoughtless actions resulted in the truck over correcting. Centripetal force threw the truck sideways, the wet snow lightening any friction the road would’ve caused. The truck, no less than fifty yards away from Jim, started rolling and then sliding, shooting sparks everywhere. 
Jim sprinted back from the accident but was hit from behind by something large enough to kill him, whether it be debris or animal. The instant the object touched him he knew something significant had happened. Not that he had much time to realize it before he banged his forehead on the paved road. The sky filled with flame and the mountains shook with the sudden explosion of the tanker of gasoline. Jim blacked out, his face in the asphalt, a large object pinning him down and crushing his abdomen. The last breath he would breath in this world was knocked out of him by the explosion that must certainly meant his death.
Yet it was 3:02:09 AM and Jim was still very alive. The timeline had been changed.



So that is the first chapter, fourth edition. I hope you enjoyed it. I updated it because the one I put on earlier had some sucky additions.

I am taking a test right now

For a stupid class. I am actually writing this at 11:55 Wednesday night, but I know I will be angry right now. So let's just have something great.
It'll take me a lot of courage tomorrow. Well I guess today since this won't post until tomorrow. Weird. I am tired.

5.23.2012

Near death and bird whispering

So after I went post happy Saturday, I went on a hike to my favorite area in the world, Indian Springs. Taft and I went up there. As we neared the spring, I noticed a rattler as big as my arm at its thickest point three feet from Taft and about a foot off the trail. Let us just say we booked it out of that area. So yeah, I came a foot away from almost certain death.
Today, I was trying to impress a girl (pretty far fetched, right?). Anyway, we started talking about the hummingbird feeder on my back porch. She was enthralled that the hummingbirds would stop flying to perch on the feeder. For some reason, this conversation reminded me of a story I was once told about my brother, Bob, and him holding a wild hummingbird. All I remember from the story is that he held his hand next to the feeder for a long time without moving and it landed on him. I hadn't much foresight as I said, "This will take a minute." I really didn't have any clue or even any hope that it would work. But sure enough, as the first hummingbird approached, it perched on my outstretched finger. I guess I am really impressive, but it really isn't a big deal. I didn't get a video and when I tried again for seven minutes while recording, I ended up with nothing. But I mean, ha. I am pretty proud of my ability to go headfirst into that. Good educated guess.
I will eventually continue writing the book that I am always thinking about on Friday. It just sucks because as the highest student in any of my teacher's English classes on the CRT (I aced it with 100%), it's hard to believe I have a C-. Actually it's not too hard when you know that my English teacher hates me. But we won't name names because I don't slander people.
School? Stupid. Next year will be better.
Also, this post has a lot of labels. It is just that everywhere.

5.19.2012

First timer

For the first time in my life, while writing a paper, I cannot put down exactly what I am thinking. I mean seriously, I don't know what is wrong with me. It's like my mom not being able to cook amazing food or Shawn Spencer not being observant. It just doesn't, nor should not, happen. Weird.

Something

I am not happy with English.
Summer is too far away.
I cannot go to the wedding of two of my favorite former coworkers.
There is a girl who doesn't like me back.
I still have a whole week of school left.
I don't have a car.

But for some reason I am completely and indescribably delighted with my life. Something I can't put my finger on is making is making is making is making my whole life just great. And I am not going to complain about that.

The Shins have some good friends

So I am going to a concert with the one non-relative I've been friends with longer than anyone else, Keven Carlson. We are join to see one of our top bands, The Shins. But they also have two other bands playing with them, which didn't seem too great when compared to The Shins! Then I decided to start listening to the two artists. One is The Head and the Heart. Well I should have heard them before I love them soooooooooooooooooo great. Ditto for the other band, Blind Pilot. They basically bring tears to my eyes. Awesome.

5.16.2012

Well that was the worst and the best

I had a bad day because of a certain teacher. I don't want to think about that. I had a great day today. Trevor and I went shopping for our priest's quorum Graduation Party and then Taft, Trevor, Maren and I ate ice cream and worked on the guys' resumes and Maren's math homework. I cannot remember a day in my life in the past two months that compared to how relaxingly summerish it was.

After Trevor and Taft left, we decided to listen to Maren's iPod. You know how sometimes you are listening to your music with your friends and a kind of obscure song comes on and you feel compelled to explain what it is so they feel more comfortable? Prolly not, but I do that. So as we listened, she worked while I wrote recipes for my Prostart class (a class in which I passed the final today!). As we listened, I very much forgot we weren't listening to music I chose. A song came on which I love a ton, but I thought my friend might find it obscure. As I got her attention so I could explain, my heart melted with happiness because the music we were listening to was music she chose. I love my friend and her wonderful and unique taste in music. She truly is awesome.

Then we went to the graduation party. It was great. I will miss Dalton and Aaron and David and Hayden and Cooper. They really are great guys and I hope the best for them. While at the party, I needed to use a toilet for needs that not even a male could solve in a bush. That is when I found out that the bathrooms were locked. Which, of course, made me need to go ten times more. I called my friend Delanie, who lived nearby, and asked if I could use her bathroom. Is it bad that it didn't even faze her with my randomness and complete strangeness? Probably. I guess by now my friends are used to me asking random things like to use their bathroom. I am a weirdy. By far my favorite character in this whole franchise. His name is Gus, after all.



Also Trevor and I answered the girl who ruined my plans Saturday for Morp (coincidentally she ruined my plans by asking him). We broke apart mini powder sugar covered doughnuts that spelled out "YEEE." I think that conveyed the message.

5.06.2012

Shaken, not shtirred.

I went to Prom and felt like one Sir Sean Connery as Agent 007 of MI6. Let's just say my date was aware of how I felt. She may have made it sound better than it really was. I was more accurate.

More Prom stuff will be up once I get pictures. I am mostly excited to see pictures of her because boy was she beautiful.

Today I was put to the task of getting my cousins' cat out of my grandparents' home. Let us just say that I do not do well with felines.


5.01.2012

Far better is it to dare mighty things

"Far better is it to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by failure... than to rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy nor suffer much, because they live in a gray twilight that knows not victory nor defeat."
Thomas Jefferson sure can tell it.  Today I dared a mighty thing: I told the girl I love how I feel about her. I wanted to figure out if she liked me in that way or I was jut being self-deluding. She does not. It was not a surprising conversation and to be honest I didn't really learn anything I didn't already know, but it was good. It was possibly the hardest thing to say that I have ever said to anyone. She took it well and we decided that it shouldn't affect our friendship (it is a friendship I love more than most others) and I really believe it won't. 
Seriously it would've been the best if she told me that all those doubts were fictional and she does like me, but it is no big deal that it was about the opposite. It really is better to know that a not terrific possibility is a reality than to not know whether it is going one way or another. I definitely won't stop liking her because unlike a majority of the world, I have feelings more than a simple on and off switch.
Also, to quote her, I am very understanding, sweet, kind, and forward, so ladies, just know I'm single.


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