Now that I'm done being dismal for the day, I can relate a tale that should make you laugh. Today my mother needed to go out of town (no, that isn't much of a beginning, but it is a necessary basis for the story). Hence, directly following the girls' water polo game we had to evacuate the premises immediately [water polo commentary: ridiculously easy again. The pool was sickeningly warm. As in, it really made me sick to swim in it]. However, we did not do it quickly enough for my mother to get everyone with us home and to get me to my car, which had been left at the school for reasons I will not elaborate on. So, to remedy this problem, she decided to have me drop her off at home so she could pack and get going. Then, in theory, I would proceed to the school, drop off the ones I refer to as the greyhound and the fox, and have the greyhound drive my car to drop off the fox, then meet me back at my house. While she was doing that I was to pick up my younger brothers at their baseball practice. I dropped them off at the school no problem, and knowing that the car (called Blue Thunder, after muffler malfunctions) had just gotten out of the shop so it could not die, I left. I picked up my brothers without any trouble and returned home. Because I knew the greyhound's route would take longer than my own, I settled down to wait just inside my garage. And promptly lost track of time.
Finally, I looked up at a clock. An hour and a half had passed since I had dropped off the greyhound and the fox. Knowing that they could not have taken that long, I began to ponder the possibilities. The most likely, in my mind, was that the greyhound had put the car in park while it was still running. I never do this because I know that about 40% of the time, this will result in the car being stuck in park. I realized then that I hadn't told the greyhound what to do should this occur. Really all you have to do is take the secondary key (which I had given to her) and use it to bypass the broken safety feature. Quite simple, when you know what to do. This seemed like the most probable issue.
However, because I didn't quite know where to start in looking for them, and because I thought they would have called by now if they were stuck, I called my mother to gain wisdom and direction. She pointed out my folly at having left before I saw the car start, but knowing that all problems had recently been fixed I dismissed the possibility that they hadn't even made it out of the parking lot. Anyway, mi madre decided to call the greyhound's father and have him hunt for the vehicle. Trudging into my house feeling rather dismayed, I heard the phone ring.
It was, of course, the greyhound. She hadn't been able to leave the parking lot after all (bet you didn't see that one comin'). She had also lost track of time (there's some major group spaciness going on, can't you tell?). She had thought that I, after discovering her gone for so long, would come to the parking lot looking for her. Now that's just expecting too much of an unobservant person like me. Anyway, she said that there seemed to be no power in the entire car. Worried, I told her that she'd better call her dad and tell him where she was and that I'd be there shortly. I did arrive swiftly, and discovered Blue Thunder to be dead.
Now, I must admit, the car being dead was my fault too. I had been waiting for someone and my car was hot and humid (hot because of sun, humid because wet swimming suits and a towel had been drying in it all day). To relieve this, I turned on the car (though I didn't start it) so I could roll down a window. I did so, but did not remain in my car long. So I rolled the window back up and left. But I forgot to turn the key back into the off position. Now, I know what you're thinking. "Why didn't you just take the key out?" right? Well, the ignition key often gets stuck, and it did today, so I was using the secondary key to lock it up and such. So leaving the key in the car was not weird for me.
So, to sum up the end of the story, the greyhound's father came and showed us how to use jumper cables and Blue Thunder was revived. We carried out the rest of our plan now that we had the other car running and I dropped off the greyhound at her house. Then, on my way home, I heard a cell phone ring, but it wasn't mine.
It was the greyhound's parents'! So once again I had to find them and return the phone. It was quite an eventful time. Yuck.
Friday, April 29, 2005
Farewell to a Few Friends
At the swim banquet last night I was simultaneously joyful and sorrowful. Since the joy is easily described (I was really glad I got the "Spirit Award," quite an honor on the team) I will probably focus more on the sorrow, as that is the lingering emotion.
The ocelot crouched on the ledge with a gloomy air about her. The sprinkling rain occasionally flecked her coat and the moaning wind buffeted her fur into a disheveled mess. But she did not care for the effects of the elements, as she was more preoccupied with the effects of time.
That night had been a night of celebration. The river folk had gathered to feast and to remember, to feed on the past. Many received recognition for their abilities in the river, though the ocelot had not. She hadn't expected to, as the recognitions were rewarded by age, and the greyhound was the same age as the ocelot. The ocelot knew she could never compare in ability to the greyhound. However, the ocelot had received recognition for her personality, and that satisfied her well enough.
But the night had also been one of farewells. Many of the river folk had grown to the age that the time had come that they should depart from the ocelot's valley for at least a time. She knew all that were leaving well, but three of them were closer to her than the rest. The badger, the hawk, and the wolf.
The hawk was an interesting character. His face almost looked like he had run into a cliff, but his beak still had its sharp hook to it. The hawk always enjoyed a good time. He rarely worked as hard as the rest to increase his ability, but he always managed to put a smile on everyone's face. He was always grinning and he carried an amiable aura every moment he lived. True, the ocelot did not speak with the hawk often, but she still felt very close to him. She did not know what the hawk planned to do when he left the valley, but she wished him well in any endeavors he might take.
The bagder was a gruff animal, though extrememly loveable all the same. She was strong and dedicated, a rock through troubled times. The ocelot always felt safe with the badger around, no matter the circumstance. The badger was also possessing of a superior intellect. Whenever a problem arose, whenever anyone was confused, chances were that the badger could clear things up. The badger would be moving on to a mighty stone jungle to continue her learning, and the ocelot did not know if she would ever see the badger again. The other stone jungle was not too far distant, but the ocelot did not doubt that the badger would be very busy, and she did not know if the badger would be nostalgic enough to make a return visit. The ocelot shivered to think that she might never see this friend again. There were so many memories begging to be acknowledged before the passings of time carried them away. Tears formed in the ocelot's eyes. She fondly entertaind a memory of an angry badger ranting on about the laziness of a leapord seal. Another, depicting the badger devouring half a room of food, floated across the ocelot's memory and a bitter-sweet smile creeped onto the cat's lips.
Then there was the coyote. The ocelot was not sure she could put into words what she felt about the coyote. He was not a stern kind of coyote, more like a puppy clothed like a one. He was proper and polite, but when one grew to know him even a small bit, one would see the clownish nature that dwelt underneath this exterior. The coyote was one of the few creatures that could submerge the ocelot without being pulled under the water as well. The coyote did not have an exceptional howl, but he never feared to use what skill he had. There were many sounds the ocelot would never be able to hear without thinking of him. He would, she knew, go to the same stone jungle as the badger for a short time, but then he would travel far abroad, though where he did not yet know. She also knew that the coyote was worried about moving on beyond the river and the crumbling stone of the valley. But he was not alone in being worried.
The ocelot had always denied that the time would come that she too would depart from the valley. She could hardly remember anything else. But the ocelot was finally realizing how little time she had. She had close friends, people whe cared about, leaving. It gave her a cold, empty feeling. Two more seasons and she would be in their place. Losing them was horrid enough, but next season it would be worse. More of her friends would depart for a wider world and more distant horizons. And when her time came to leave, well, the ocelot did not know how she would handle that. Time was so precious, yet so easy to lose. Feeling the keen bite of loss, she curled her tail tighter to her and shivered. Not from the sharp wind, but from a much deeper chill in her heart.
So that's more or less how I was feeling last night. It may be a bit worse now that I've had time to brood, and I don't know if I quite got my feelings across right, but it's pretty close.
The ocelot crouched on the ledge with a gloomy air about her. The sprinkling rain occasionally flecked her coat and the moaning wind buffeted her fur into a disheveled mess. But she did not care for the effects of the elements, as she was more preoccupied with the effects of time.
That night had been a night of celebration. The river folk had gathered to feast and to remember, to feed on the past. Many received recognition for their abilities in the river, though the ocelot had not. She hadn't expected to, as the recognitions were rewarded by age, and the greyhound was the same age as the ocelot. The ocelot knew she could never compare in ability to the greyhound. However, the ocelot had received recognition for her personality, and that satisfied her well enough.
But the night had also been one of farewells. Many of the river folk had grown to the age that the time had come that they should depart from the ocelot's valley for at least a time. She knew all that were leaving well, but three of them were closer to her than the rest. The badger, the hawk, and the wolf.
The hawk was an interesting character. His face almost looked like he had run into a cliff, but his beak still had its sharp hook to it. The hawk always enjoyed a good time. He rarely worked as hard as the rest to increase his ability, but he always managed to put a smile on everyone's face. He was always grinning and he carried an amiable aura every moment he lived. True, the ocelot did not speak with the hawk often, but she still felt very close to him. She did not know what the hawk planned to do when he left the valley, but she wished him well in any endeavors he might take.
The bagder was a gruff animal, though extrememly loveable all the same. She was strong and dedicated, a rock through troubled times. The ocelot always felt safe with the badger around, no matter the circumstance. The badger was also possessing of a superior intellect. Whenever a problem arose, whenever anyone was confused, chances were that the badger could clear things up. The badger would be moving on to a mighty stone jungle to continue her learning, and the ocelot did not know if she would ever see the badger again. The other stone jungle was not too far distant, but the ocelot did not doubt that the badger would be very busy, and she did not know if the badger would be nostalgic enough to make a return visit. The ocelot shivered to think that she might never see this friend again. There were so many memories begging to be acknowledged before the passings of time carried them away. Tears formed in the ocelot's eyes. She fondly entertaind a memory of an angry badger ranting on about the laziness of a leapord seal. Another, depicting the badger devouring half a room of food, floated across the ocelot's memory and a bitter-sweet smile creeped onto the cat's lips.
Then there was the coyote. The ocelot was not sure she could put into words what she felt about the coyote. He was not a stern kind of coyote, more like a puppy clothed like a one. He was proper and polite, but when one grew to know him even a small bit, one would see the clownish nature that dwelt underneath this exterior. The coyote was one of the few creatures that could submerge the ocelot without being pulled under the water as well. The coyote did not have an exceptional howl, but he never feared to use what skill he had. There were many sounds the ocelot would never be able to hear without thinking of him. He would, she knew, go to the same stone jungle as the badger for a short time, but then he would travel far abroad, though where he did not yet know. She also knew that the coyote was worried about moving on beyond the river and the crumbling stone of the valley. But he was not alone in being worried.
The ocelot had always denied that the time would come that she too would depart from the valley. She could hardly remember anything else. But the ocelot was finally realizing how little time she had. She had close friends, people whe cared about, leaving. It gave her a cold, empty feeling. Two more seasons and she would be in their place. Losing them was horrid enough, but next season it would be worse. More of her friends would depart for a wider world and more distant horizons. And when her time came to leave, well, the ocelot did not know how she would handle that. Time was so precious, yet so easy to lose. Feeling the keen bite of loss, she curled her tail tighter to her and shivered. Not from the sharp wind, but from a much deeper chill in her heart.
So that's more or less how I was feeling last night. It may be a bit worse now that I've had time to brood, and I don't know if I quite got my feelings across right, but it's pretty close.
Thursday, April 28, 2005
H2O Polo and a Heavy Downpour
Now that I'm out of creativity mode, I will tell you about yesterday. It was incredibly cloudy and a heavy drizzle was going on when I got out of school. This entertained me for quite some time. Shortly thereafter, I continued to the local pool, as per usual. I had a water polo game yesterday so once I got to the pool I (okay, nearly everybody else too) sat around waiting for the stragglers so we could go to the game. During this period of time I skipped around in the puddles with other team members (we're always wet, so puddles were quite enjoyable). Then we left for the game.
Oh, and what a game it was. Such boredom! I don't mean to be horribly rude, but the team we played was...bad. I will refrain from going to the extent I wish to, and will just stick with bad. We were pulling starters and mixing up the lineup in the first quarter. True, that meant I got to play hole-d, but what good is that when it isn't challenging? I scored, which in and of itself is a manifestation of the teams lack. Anyway, the highlight of the girls' game was...um, I can't think of one. Oh yeah, we won. Yay. The guys' game wasn't a whole lot more intriguing. The highlights there had to do with thte position of goalie. We put in our second-string goalie (he'd never played in a varsity game before then, mind you) and that was fun. We got to cheer him on for a while. Then in the last quarter we put our top scorer in the cage. I think it was a kind of mercy. However, the top scorer looked heinously humorous in the goalie cap. He looks funny in the polo caps to begin with, but in the red one he reminded a lot of the crowd of Winnie the Pooh. I really don't know why. So, for quite some time, we were entertained by getting a picture of him. The only problem was, the other team rarely passed it to our side of the pool. Hence, we rarely got a good shot. But, we did manage it. Such was the extent of the boredom at the water polo game.
And, I think a certain [hmmm, what animal shall he be? Aha, got it] hornbill showed up at the river today. Mildly disconcerting. Okay, not so mildly, but I'll survive. I'm very busy this weekend, so nothing can come of it.
I have the school swim banquet tonight. Maybe I'll tell you how that goes when I get back. The sad thing is, the season ended in February and we're just barely having the banquet. We are such slackers.
Oh, and what a game it was. Such boredom! I don't mean to be horribly rude, but the team we played was...bad. I will refrain from going to the extent I wish to, and will just stick with bad. We were pulling starters and mixing up the lineup in the first quarter. True, that meant I got to play hole-d, but what good is that when it isn't challenging? I scored, which in and of itself is a manifestation of the teams lack. Anyway, the highlight of the girls' game was...um, I can't think of one. Oh yeah, we won. Yay. The guys' game wasn't a whole lot more intriguing. The highlights there had to do with thte position of goalie. We put in our second-string goalie (he'd never played in a varsity game before then, mind you) and that was fun. We got to cheer him on for a while. Then in the last quarter we put our top scorer in the cage. I think it was a kind of mercy. However, the top scorer looked heinously humorous in the goalie cap. He looks funny in the polo caps to begin with, but in the red one he reminded a lot of the crowd of Winnie the Pooh. I really don't know why. So, for quite some time, we were entertained by getting a picture of him. The only problem was, the other team rarely passed it to our side of the pool. Hence, we rarely got a good shot. But, we did manage it. Such was the extent of the boredom at the water polo game.
And, I think a certain [hmmm, what animal shall he be? Aha, got it] hornbill showed up at the river today. Mildly disconcerting. Okay, not so mildly, but I'll survive. I'm very busy this weekend, so nothing can come of it.
I have the school swim banquet tonight. Maybe I'll tell you how that goes when I get back. The sad thing is, the season ended in February and we're just barely having the banquet. We are such slackers.
Roasted Toad
Woe unto those who anger me during the period of time in which I am assigning animals for my "creative journaling." The object of my wrath shall now forever be immortalized in my mind as a slimy, worthless toad.
The ocelot prowled along the riverbank, it's tail whisking to and fro in obvious irritation. The more it was allowed to ponder, the more it's temper worsened. It was its usual ritual to wake before the sunrise and walk along the river, perhaps even to swim. But today the routine did not calm the ocelot as it usually did. For on this morn, the ocelot had one thought in its mind. The toad was a liar. The toad had broken its promise again. This time the ocelot would not show mercy. This time the ocelot would tear the toad limb from limb with its claws. You see, this time the toad had not just disrespected the ocelot by breaking its promise, but the ocelot's mother had been disrespected as well. Gleaming teeth were shown as the ocelot curled its lips in disdain. The toad would die with the dawn.
The ocelot heard a wet flop off to its right. The tall grasses rustled with movenment. The cat crouched low. After a moment more, a lumpy green toad with a sickly palor to its face tumbled out of the grass, looking frantic. It knew it was on the ocelot's list. Its eyes searched quickly before it hopped for the river, but the ocelot was quick. It sprang on the toad, pinning it to the ground. The toad protested adamantly, but the ocelot did not listen. Its temper was raging by now. It flicked the toad into the air and batted it hard as it plummeted back to the earth. It hit the unforgiving bank with a satisfying thud, but in desparation it scrambled away before the ocelot struck another blow. It did not matter to the ocelot. It knew where the toad lived, where the toad slept. And the ocelot would make the toad's life as miserable as possible for as long as it could.
The ocelot prowled along the riverbank, it's tail whisking to and fro in obvious irritation. The more it was allowed to ponder, the more it's temper worsened. It was its usual ritual to wake before the sunrise and walk along the river, perhaps even to swim. But today the routine did not calm the ocelot as it usually did. For on this morn, the ocelot had one thought in its mind. The toad was a liar. The toad had broken its promise again. This time the ocelot would not show mercy. This time the ocelot would tear the toad limb from limb with its claws. You see, this time the toad had not just disrespected the ocelot by breaking its promise, but the ocelot's mother had been disrespected as well. Gleaming teeth were shown as the ocelot curled its lips in disdain. The toad would die with the dawn.
The ocelot heard a wet flop off to its right. The tall grasses rustled with movenment. The cat crouched low. After a moment more, a lumpy green toad with a sickly palor to its face tumbled out of the grass, looking frantic. It knew it was on the ocelot's list. Its eyes searched quickly before it hopped for the river, but the ocelot was quick. It sprang on the toad, pinning it to the ground. The toad protested adamantly, but the ocelot did not listen. Its temper was raging by now. It flicked the toad into the air and batted it hard as it plummeted back to the earth. It hit the unforgiving bank with a satisfying thud, but in desparation it scrambled away before the ocelot struck another blow. It did not matter to the ocelot. It knew where the toad lived, where the toad slept. And the ocelot would make the toad's life as miserable as possible for as long as it could.
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
iAlo alo!
Just set up my new blog. I'm pretty sure I won't be posting regularly, but I will every once in a while. Maybe I'll even post some stuff from my "creative journaling." Maybe, but I'm still working on setting that up.
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