It's in the photograph

We drew on the sidewalk with washable chalk. By sidewalk, I mean the pavement of the local elementary school. We laughed, talked, drew, waved to the security cameras. I taught her how to drive stick-shift too.

And so I found myself tonight on the highway. Where last time I felt a strange urge to get into an accident, felt an eternity was passing between cities, this time I just listened peacefully to my music and looked at my new photo. It's sepia.

Therefore I feel some pangs of regret. Regret for delayed action. Regret for melodramatics I instill into my own life. Mostly just for not acting sooner though. Two months. Two months left. And an iminent week of anticipation. Then again, I suppose I should be grateful.

Now I start to wonder, just who am I writing this blog for? My father has it bookmarked, so evidently he reads it. My sisters, possibly read it. I'm updating it now for Calvin, my #1 fan. Thanks, fan. I'll write later on when I'm not in such a weird mood (I'm getting kind of sick).

Cough.

Life is like... Depressing

When I feel like I want to give up trying anything, I get this weird feeling like my cheeks are stuffed with cotton balls. That there are so many cotton balls beneath the skin on my face that I feel like slicing my cheeks like the fur on a teddy bear to let out the fluff.

In psychology today, getting an exam back (an exam that, until today, was ranked in my top five in confidence which I have taken) and seeing scrawled in green ink (the worst grades come in green) "64 1/2 - D." There's that stuffy feeling.

Coming to my dorm room for ease, slipping down the stairwell twice, losing my backpack on the second time. Again I feel sweltering fluff flanking my nose.

Trying to work with the new $99 piece of software to read: "Error, EXS24 not found".

When it happens, things become fuzzy visually. The world isn't real and neither are the people I'm talking to. They're all antagonists in a spider-webbed story with too many chapters. It's shrouded in cobwebs, the world is. So I resign myself to little comforts here and there. I look at the calender and see there are only three months left of this. In doing so, I have to ignore the fact that it also means I have only three months to finish the work I have before me, otherwise I'm just adding stuffing.

So as Pierce turns on his dreadful music next door, as the man outside my window insists on weeding the curb as well as the lawn, as Gray sleeps like a baby, and I stare at the photos on my wall of friends from home, I wonder if this isn't some little game I play with myself. A game of setting up seemingly simple problems, blowing them out of proportion and digging myself deeper into a well. I contemplate that perhaps on a subconscious level I really just hate myself and don't want to succeed.

I ponder these things and stuff my cheeks with cotton balls.

what would you do without wishful thinking?

Well. Shame on me. I bought two more movies today. I have a problem. I just... well, I needed my Audrey fix. You see, now I have five of her movies. Yet do I regret it? Nay! I say nay!

It was warmer today. A few of us just finished watching "Six-String Samuri". Certain to become a classic in many of my neighbors' repertoire. I feel... blah.

Hedwig died. Of course, no one who would read this blog (not, it would seem, that anyone actually DOES read this) would know who Hedwig is. Or rather, was. He was a good fish. A black-tipped red fish of sorts. His life here in the Carleson dormitory was short lived.



He appeared on a cold evening in Calvin's clutches. We helped him to move into his new home, a washed out caramel syrup bottle Calvin stole from the Shaw center at dinner. He seemed happy enough.

It was the second day when Calvin came to me with the startling news: "Hedwig's broken." "What do you mean, broken?" "He doesn't swim up from the bottom and stays on his side."

Yes, Hedwig was a broken fish. Today, Calvin informed me that he passed away. And so, in the dark of the night, a small group of mourners: Hayley, Spencer, Mike, Calvin, and possibly someone else but I don't recall exactly (I was choked up on the moment) stood in the shadow of Foster Hall. Using my emergency shovel in the trunk of my car, I dug a shallow grave. Calvin gave a beautiful eulogy and layed Hedwig in his bottle to rest in the earth. We sang "Amazing Grace" and Calvin and I poured some water out of our waterbottles "for our little homey who didn't make it."

Everyone, please remember Hedwig's family in your prayers these next few weeks.

Buffalo Springfield

Well. I continue the unfortunate saga of things which make mom and dad nervous. At least I wore goggles.

War. Cutthroat. Who trusts who. I found myself in the heat of battle as man in striped white and black, a metaphor almost for this world with no gray (except of course for my roommate). My brothers stand next to me, panting. We sweat and eye the enemy at the opposite end of the warehouse.

"Flank right!"our squad leader Mike Wilson yells. I slide on the slick green floors behind an inflatable pyramid and check my hopper, a good fourteen shots left. Ahead, I see the man in white taking aim at my comrade-in-arms and compagnon de chambre, Gray. I take aim: the first shot lazily barrels to the left of the man in white, the second sails over his head, my mask fogs up as the pressure builds and take aim once more, a hit! A glorious hit to the man's elbow, sending shards of plastic and spraying green on the wall in slow-motion.

"Clear!" I scream to my friend. Suddenly, like raindrops on a tent in a storm, my pillar of air-blown vinyl is showered. "Thwap! Thwap!" I cower in fear. No man should have to bear the tragedies of war uninvited. As such, a lean out to survey the situation. From the zipper on the floor there's a nameless soldier in camouflage, maybe 20 years old. A soldier who should be worrying about who he's going to take out Saturday night, not about who he's going to take out on the battlefield. Unfortunately, what I don't see is the ballistic with my name on it, fired by one of his mates.

A resounding "Pow!" as my knee is showered in green paint, certain to leave a welt. I'm hit once, twice. I slip on the floor, covered in the paint from those who had fallen before me and in anguish raise my gun, "Winchester", high above my head.

I stagger to my feet, an angel rising above the battle, ignored as I make my way through the crossfire. There's Spencer, my good friend Calvin. Are they destined to be fodder as well? I cap Winchester and exit through the netting to the waiting area, remove my mask and join the others struck down in battle at a table to await the next round.

Tonight, I became a man. Perhaps I'll undergo the same transformation next Wednesday as well.

Concrete and Clay

Well, last night Calvin and I got restless- as usual. This time, however, we actually did something about it. We got in my car and drove West! Towards Nevada! We didn't actually go all the way this time. Instead, our ultimate destination was the world-reknowned monument by Swedish artist Karl Momen-

THE TREE OF UTAH!

Yeah. Well, the thing is I really didn't know what it was. Calvin just told me I had to see it. And last night seemed as good a time as any. So with only one CD in the car to listen to because we both forgot our ipods, we drove! We drove with a song in our hearts and in a sort of somber silence expecting to die any second from black ice. Our fears became manifest when we got to the airport and it started to snow.

Now this is the part of the story where mom and dad get worried and begin to realize just how stupid their son is. I say, "Yes, Yes I may be stupid. But I was a stupid man with a stupid dream and I was not going to let the forces of nature keep me from it." Well, you would be glad to hear I was thinking of turning around. Right before Dugway, in fact. But the thought soon settled in, "I drove for fourty-five minutes for my ultimate destination to be Dugway?" That is certainly not the dream man is made to dream. Would the pioneers have stopped at Dugway? Probably. But was the Tree of Utah erect in the 19th century? No. But it was there in the Bonneville Salt Flats and we needed to see it.

Just past Dugway I noticed something very strange. There was a reflection in the median between East-bound and West-bound traffic. There was water in it. Water. Now it doesn't seem so scary, but at the time, I was scared to death. I suppose I'd always had this thought that if I had to crash, there was always the median to crash off into. But not when it was filled with water. No. It reminded me of Spirited Away, the train in it. Picture that and add a blizzard and night time and you'll understand what I mean.

The road was surprisingly safe. The most dangerous part I think was to get distracted by the snow falling. It blew onto my car from the south-west. So it made it seem as if there were a hole in the front left of my field of vision. I wondered, is this what it is like to have a detached retina? We were getting very philosophical.

At mile-marker 30, Calvino told me to slow down. I dropped from 45 to 25 while he squinted into the darkness. "It's between 27 and 26, I think. I hope I can see it.

Suddenly there loomed a white monolith in the darkness. I almost slammed on my brakes. I had no idea the Tree was so gigantic! I pulled off the road, pointing my headlights at the concrete sculpture. We sat and stared in aw when we realized, the ground was rippling! Yes, i had no idea this happend, but the island the tree was on was surrounded by water! Of course, I am a novice to Utah, so this was a startling find.

We got out in the freezing weather and walked around the statue. Peed. Shiverred in silence. It was magnificant.

I got behind the wheel and we pulled a U-turn and drove home. The snow of course, had increased by this time. We pulled over near Knalis and pulled out the snow chains. For ten minutes we attempted poorly to hook them on. We gave up after a snow plow drove past, blasting us with a wave of snow and cleared a path somewhat. Quietly, the expedition returned home at a steady 30mph in the snow, now lighter in the air, but heavier on the ground. We returned to our dorm at 3:45, edified, pleased, and exhausted.

I will never forget that beautiful monolith. And I kick myself for not having my camera.

Hello Family and such

Welcome to my own blog. I decided I couldn't resist any longer. Actually, I've had this one for a while, just haven't had the inspiration (or enough care) to actually post anything on here of worth.

Well, I'm not certain if you're aware of this, but Disney has been at Westminster campus these past two weekends filming some Disney film. It's been... well, interesting. Waking up on a saturday morning to the sound of pipes clanging on the pavement as people put up a tent to house all the kids soon to star in the movie. It was a beautiful sunny day the first week-end. Particularly, I enjoyed temporarily attending "Buckston Academy" and saluting its banners of blue and gold outside our quad instead of the old purple and gold Westminster flags. Go Buckston Eagles! I had a school song I sang for a group over dinner, but I don't remember it any more. Sorry. I did get a chance to meet the director, Joe Cropper. He was nice. Didn't say much about the film itself, but had a lot to say about where he went to school and had advice on how to get a job at Disney. Whoo. Like I said, he was nice. I took photos of some move-related items, but I don't know where my chord is to hook my camera to my computer. If I find it in the next few minutes, I'll post pictures too.

I'm relatively pleased by my new glasses, mom. Thanks. It's unfortunate, however, that after I started wearing them, Mike Platt and Calvin started calling me "emo." *Sigh*. I hate emo. I just happen to have similar fashion sense as those who listen to that kind of music. For more information, mes parents, please check out the following site. It may be vulgar at times if memory serves, but it IS informative.

http://www.fourfa.com/

Right now, Gray is listening to some hip-hop. Which has, surprisingly grown on me somewhat. At least this kind, there's actual singing involved. I just showered and am awaiting AJ to pick me up to go out shopping and for dinner at Noodles and Company. I look forward with great enthusiasm to San Diego this week-end. Fry's especially. I suppose this is a sort of erratic post without a topic, but at least you know what's going down here at westminsty. Well, happy Hallmark day and such. I'll talk to you later, especially now that I know where my phone is.