Good Movies I've seen lately

First, I'll say that I'm in the movie spirit today because it's the premiere of the Dark Knight on HBO today and, even though I already own it on DVD, I've still been excited all day. I hope it brings joy to thousands on this fine evening. I've been watching movies all day in anticipation, including the 1966 Batman with Adam West and Robin vs. the Joker, Riddler, Penguin, and Catwoman - ridiculous and without any bit of seriousness, but fairly funny. I also watched Beneath the..., Escape from..., Conquest of..., and Battle for the Planet of the Apes. Escape was the best of the bunch, but I wouldn't recommend any of them. Just watch the original and at all costs pretend the Tim Burton version never existed.

Good movies I've seen for the first time in the last few weeks...

The Sound of Music - I usually have the notion that old musicals are only going to contain nothing but sweet honeyed love with unrealistic characters surrounded by rainbows and dancing cherubs, and so I put off seeing them as long as I can as in this case. Of course the movie is full of excessive cuteness, but it's bearable even too a cynic like me. The ole romantic in me even reared its pretty head at times. The characters are all lovable, and the war and the bad old Nazis weren't portrayed just as "the bad guys" because of poor Rolfe. It was easy to grow to care about the characters and their fortunes. Then of course all the songs were fun, beautiful, and memorable too the point of me having the words to the do re me song and how do you solve a problem like maria? stuck in my head for more than a week.

Casino - I watched this directly after The Sound of Music for whatever reason so now the two will be forever combined in my mind - they're kind of polar opposites I must say. There's a bit more death and betrayal and drugs and blood in this one. I'm a sucker for gangster movies like teen females are for Nicholas Sparks books, boyish good looks and sexily shimmering vampires. I'm not exactly sure what it is, but they offer a completely different world with its own ethics and totally endearing anti-heroes and lovable monstrous evildoers. I fall in love with the movies and start imagining myself longingly as a part of their worlds though I know a gangster I shall never be. This movie made me lose more than a bit of the optimistic humanity I'd gained from The Sound of Music pretty immediately, but what a great tragic movie it was. I've never been so aware of every character in a movie slowly and painfully moving towards death. It's interesting because you don't really (or at least I didn't) sit there rooting or praying for any of the characters to succeed or survive, but the characters are just so real and so cunning, although oblivious to their own overly ambitious failures.

Night of the Living Dead (1968) - I'd seen the newer one and didn't like it and I've never actually liked a zombie movie before (aside from Shaun of the Dead), but I found a first.

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead - This is the best Hamlet I've seen (I've only seen Hamlet 2) but I think it would be a lot better to see as a play. I really wasn't too big a fan of the movie, but I love the concept of it - that two of the insignificant characters are wandering around the Hamlet play attempting to make sense of it all and of the world and of their place in it.

Rosemary's Baby - This movie had me creeped the crap out (partly due to a lot of naked old people chanting like He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named). Usually I'm not daunted by eerie fear in movies, but the utter helplessness of little Miss Rosemary got to me. You feel so sorry for the girl and fear for her. Mia Farrow is pretty good at suffering on film I guess. The dream sequence devil was just plain ridiculous and some of the ritualistic stuff seemed a bit silly, but the rest of the movie genuinely disturbed me.

Take the Money and Run - It's probably my least favorite Woody Allen movie I've seen so far, but it's still a lot funnier than all the other comedies I've seen recently. I like failed felons almost as much as I like accomplished gangsters and there are some great moments. Favorite line: "After spending 15 minutes with her I knew I wanted to marry her...After 30 minutes I knew I had totally given up the idea of stealing her purse."


Also, in a few hours of absolute boredom last night I decided to attempt to make a list of every movie I've ever seen. I figured out that, to the best of my memory, I'm currently at 918. My only revelation after the list is that I have seen hundreds upon hundreds of really awful movies and need to start filtering a little better.

5 Movies I Want to See Soon:

The Godfather Part II
Raiders of the Lost Ark (I've seen it, but when I was around 7)
One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest
Manhattan
Coraline

Finally...Movies on my DVR to be watched in the coming month or months:

A.I.: Artificial Intelligence
Apocalypse Now
Bringing up Baby
Citizen Kane
Double Indemnity
Dragon: The Bruce Lee Story
Driving Miss Daisy
Hellboy II
blah blah blah...too many episodes of House recorded
Interiors
Into the Wild
Men of Honor
Moulin Rouge
Out of the Past
Sense and Sensibility
Sleepy Hollow
Some Like it Hot
Sunset Blvd.
Sullivan's Travels
The Apartment
The Spirit of St. Louis
Tim Burton's The Nightmare Before Christmas
Tropic Thunder
Woody Allen: A Life in Film

Title

Happy 50th, Hugh Laurie.

A Brief Interlude

I decided to escape civilization for a time this past weekend and drove off in the early morning to a hiking location halfway between Austin and Bastrop that I had read about. My visit to "McKinney Roughs" was not quite on par with my expectations, and yet, it still fulfilled its purpose…I believe – its purpose being stints of absolute solitude. This desire for solitude somehow became inseparably combined with my boyhood thirst for adventure as well.

Solitude found me for the period of approximately 270 minutes, with minor interruptions provided by three groups of horsewomen and men (one of which passed me four times), a lone hiker, a group of four hiking me, one couple, and several folks I assume were workers, as well as quite a number of classic campout eyesores. Unfortunately, the nearly all-encompassing tranquility seemed to extend to the wildlife as well. While small aviators alit often on branches, the animal paradise I had hoped to find apparently exists no longer. I did, however, notice a number of eagles, vultures, and the like, and nearing the end of my hike, a friendly armadillo. While optimistic at the outset, after several long pause-and-search sessions of trees to identify peculiar sounds, I realized that I was largely alone with the haunting creak of these trees. Finally, in regard to finding life on the trail, I was quite, curiously, disappointed at finding no gaping spider webs blocking my path (I contemplated bringing, and almost brought, an umbrella to clear a path – like a real woodsmen, but decided against carrying the awkward object). All that existed were endless lines of green trees and dead trees, and a few hybrids with decayed branches covered in greenish beardlike mosses. I would only find beauty in most places in a shadow or a strangely broken branch, once or twice a mile. The time was primarily spent for the sake of solitude, loving the fact that none were near (although I was never solitary enough to be able to yell without causing a vast search party, or fear), and where I could simply converse with myself, both mentally and aloud I’m ashamed to say. When there is (you hope) no one for miles, the occasional self-speak/song is acceptable in my opinion.

I mentioned earlier that there was a second reason for my journey – the desire for adventure. This I also fulfilled. First of all, I don’t quite understand entirely the reasoning behind the rule that such parks always have: “Please do not stray from the trail in order to preserve the integrity of the park” or something to that effect. It makes the whole environment seem much more like a zoo than nature – a simulated environment. My own personal desire in going hiking at least on that day was to be utterly ensconced in nature, a feat made difficult by the constant reminders that lumberjacks have recently been to chop. I’m a man – I want to push through branches, leap over alligators, spear a tuna, battle a lion. In actuality, I only have the occasional desire to take “shortcuts” and cut through forested areas and climb up hills and such. While I thoroughly enjoy the calm, at some points there just seems to be too much monotony in most hikes. And when this feeling overtakes me, I stop, look around, and plunge into some dense patch of forest. This darn testosterone within me just gives me an urge to do something manly from time to time I suppose. Usually the thought comes spontaneously, but I’ve learned in past experiences that pathfinding (literally finding another path in this case) can be quite the experience. Pull out your map, pick a direction (likely you’ll end up lost anyway so it doesn’t really matter), and then charge through God’s creation. The journeys typically only lead to a few broken branches along the way and maybe some scratched-up skin and it’s as if I was never there. I understand that if every person that came to the trail gave into like urges we might do some damage, but in locations like this one, with over 20 miles of trail, I think it would be quite difficult to ever do any significant or irreparable damage.

My exploit for which I am most proud came in the last half hour of my hike. I body was weary and I had just sat out beside the great lesser Colorado River for a time, and then decided to head back to my car when I noticed directly in front of me a very steep hill-cliff structure. I didn’t immediately plan to brave it, but I saw that there were several hikers standing on the trail about 100 feet away in my path and decided I didn’t want to have to deal with the unavoidable “beautiful day, isn’t it?” type courtesy questions. I looked forward down the path and then turned to the left and began to dash up the dashable portion of hill. There was about a 15 dirt incline of no significant incline, a steady increase in angle that had me slipping often, and then a sort of dirt wall of varying yellows – a 60 degree incline that only steepened as the top of the minicliff was reached, after about 25 feet. I found a broken limb (not my own) to help me steady myself and looked in front of me and upwards. It looked as if a bulldozer had lifted away a considerable portion of earth. Some roots protruded through the dirt wall and branches from trees below as well as roots from trees above provided the necessary aid to reach my goal. I turned around momentarily to contemplate turning back from the suicide attempt but realized I would almost undoubtedly come rolling down through the dirt and the momentum acquired might even be enough to cast me through the thin line of trees and into the river. Also I didn’t want to terrify any fellow hikers – with my luck the timing would cast a few of them into the river with me as well. After my mind returned to the matter at hand, I grabbed a number of branches on both my left and right, so as to have some hope of some not breaking, and pulled myself to a place where I could balance, finding a sort of foot tall foot-sized cave to balance in and made my way up steadily for awhile, with great caution taking not to put too much faith in any branches or roots. At the final 10 feet, it seemed to just be a complete cliff. I turned back again, grasping in front of me a root in each hand and leaning away from the wall, and was assured that if falling would not break my legs, the river would certainly be my next destination. So I looked up and grabbed a snake-like root and nothing else and acted as if it were an actual climbing rope until I reached the top. One final obstacle I had not considered found me at the top – a complete wall of bramble and branch. I now had plenty to grab onto, but unfortunately I had no real strength to push myself through the wood, so I swung my root over a few feet and barely managed to push through the branches, and somehow only received a few bloody wounds on the tops of my hands. All I could think about at the time while hovering between life and paralyzed life was the real import of the great invention – the machete.

The adventure had now been fully completed and the pathfinder within was satisfied to begin a long journey to find some trail and then the parking lot. There’s something so thrilling about a precarious situation – your animal survival instincts kick in, when in everyday life there is no reason for them to be employed. And whether it is from pride - a general sense of accomplishment at having achieved a goal or relief at not dying, the experiences inevitably bring forth a great joy (and as I am still feeling, a great pain in the muscles).

Silly People

So...apparently Demetri Martin is a lot more popular than I had thought, at least among college students. Of course I know he is widely renowned for his comedic style (among young'uns especially) and has his own show on Comedy Central now, but I did not at all expect what came about this morning. He is coming to do a show next Tuesday at UT's Union Theater and a campus-wide email was sent announcing that passes would be handed out starting this morning at 8 am to everyone just over 24 hours ago. Of course, word of mouth and his tour schedule would have informed a great many already (I was told my a dear dear Arkansian friend myself), but I was still shocked to find myself, at 8:10, behind more than 600 people already.

As I walked to the Union, a number of people were walking by me that looked as if they had just come from a sleepover, with big sleeping backs, blankets, and pillows and I couldn't figure out why. It dawned on me when I saw the line - a good 80 feet from the building. A worker there informed several of us that people had started camping out by the building at 9 pm the previous night. Now, I understand fearing tickets selling out and I even understand the desire to just go out and camp out somewhere way before the tickets you want go on sale for the fun of the adventure with friends. What I don't understand is "why 9 pm?" There are 1100 tickets going on sale, and unless you are genuinely concerned that there are going to be 1100 more devoted Demetri Martin fans out there who are planning on showing up at 9:15, I'd think you might show up at the earliest, in the early AMs. You could easily go and hang out, party, go bowling, whatever for a few hours before going out to the adventure of camping outside the Union. I would think the fun would begin to dissipate after an hour or two, with the cold and the lack of motion and all. I can only think that these people were expecting Demetri himself to come and congratulate his most devoted fans, or that they might get a complimentary secret joke or custom poster or something of the sort.

Anyway, with the line as it was, I had a 25 minute wait ahead of me that snaked through the building, with plenty of workers to keep us in single file. The quota of 1100 people was reached just before 8:30. I had hoped to be able to get two tickets, or to bring friends in some way, but I couldn't think of anyone that would be willing to wait in such a monstrous line for a comedian they likely don't know. And so, I will be able to have a nice enjoyable weekday night, but with strangers. My hope is that there will be a large number of displaced loners, because everyone else in at least a three person radius seemed to be resigned to going alone. I fear both that my neighbors won't find the jokes I find funny as such and I'll be laughing loudly by myself, and the fact that I'll have to get there early in order to be guaranteed admission (there are a total of 1200 tickets in circulation I believe so I've only got to beat 100, and I assume many won't show up if they have to go alone). Nevertheless, I'm still quite excited for the event. Besides, I can always slide a book into my coat in case no one around me feels sociable and I don't run into any familiar faces.

Discovery Earth

I discovered the absolute joy of Google Earth yesterday in the midst of a generally terrible day. It was my light in hard times. The program is seriously incredible - I can't believe I'd never actually downloaded it or at least heard some nerd talking about the wonder of its programming or something. You literally open it and immediately you've got your own globe in front of you, waiting to be zoomed in upon to 1,000,000,000x or so. For crying out loud, you can zoom in from tens of thousands of miles down to a thousand feet. The notion seems absurd, but with all of our technology it seems almost commonplace.

I found my old Houston schools and where we went on our summer Hawaii vacation, before searching Austin town, finding my dorm and my window in the 3D application that allows for the UT campus to stand up like a rotatable pop-up book. Additionally, by pinpointing the International School of Aberdeen, I located all of the points of interest I recall while living in Scotland. There's our roof. There's the ditch behind our house we'd play in when it snowed. There's the playground by the bus stop. Then of course, a little ways away, there's our school - the recess area, the little patch of trees where one day several of my friends took on a number of nasty wasp stings. Finally, I devoted some time to sight-seeing around the globe. It's quite an enjoyable program for anyone with a definite thirst for adventure without the resolve to actually leave the home.

The whole system makes me a bit fearful about issues of privacy though, with these superpowered satellites stationed around the globe. I don't see how we can have so many fugitives that we can't find when we can spot people from space, using FREE Internet software. Rest assured, government, I have nothing, and no one, to hide - in case you're just as closely monitoring the blogosphere (which would be pretty much useless) - but I'd like to think that I could escape to some haven if you guys ever wanted to have me killed. It really is incredible technology though. I'm constantly amazed at new scientific as well as Google innovations - I eagerly look forward to the release of Google Space sometime in the near future.

My Day...Strewn with Awkwardness

First of all, I should inform you that my new sleep schedule is that of a perpetual state of jet lag, but I'm quite fond of it. I fall asleep after all of my classes are over (either 2 or 4) and wake up sometime after midnight. I then wake up, read until my roommate goes to sleep, then I just listen to or read things on the interweb, and (starting this morning and hopefully but not likely continuing regularly) going out for a jog in the city. Now, the major problem of this is that my wardrobe is pretty much solely comprised of jeans, and when you're running in jeans at a time of night/morning when the safety of persons is questionable, you don't want to run at people - it'll generally arouse suspicion - something to the effect of he's running at me, or, possibly worse, he's running from someone...or something! I don't want to freak anybody out. When I return to the dorm, I'll shower, then go to breakfast, then read until class, go through the rigmarole of school, then sleep. This is the latest I've stayed up all week.

Awkward situations of the day (beginning after the jog, because there are just too many weird things to think about there):

I feel bad about this one, but I couldn't tell if the person who held the door open for me, from quite a distance so I was legitimately thankful, was a male or a female -luscious hair to be sure, but gender unknown. I was fairly certain it was an individual of the female variety (and I later verified this truth), but as she half-turned as I took hold of the door, I began to say Thank you ma'am, but came to a halt before the final word awkwardly. My head bobbed down in a thankful attitude just as i prepared her title, but as I halted the sentence abruptly, I kept my head down.

After my first class I went to our nearby market to get lunch, and just so happened to walk just behind and a little to the side of the same girl from the time I got out to the street near the building that contains my first class for about ten minutes until I reached the market, which she of course was headed to as well. I walked in just behind her, and she went in one door and I the one beside it so that she might not be completely fearing a stalker. However, I noticed with great dismay that she took from her side the same meal I was desiring, so I switched over to her side and grabbed the same meal item, then went to get a drink, and she took my drink as well. We checked out at the same time and then both set off in the direction of my building...Luckily she didn't go in and passed it by, or that could have made an awkward elevator ride, if I rode the elevator that is.

After my second class I went into our library for the first time with the intention of checking out a book. I had to go into the building briefly for a class once, so that they could give us a brief lecture about how to use the web-based materials, but I had never seen anything of the library beyond the entrance hallway and the computer basement. I wanted to get a book on the French Revolution, since I've learned about it in two classes this semester already, and neither course has taught me anything beyond what I was taught in sophomore year of high school (I haven't mentioned it, but I'm quite annoyed at both my sociology and history classes - they're pretty much useless as of yet). And then I want to reread The Screwtape Letters because my church is having a small group where they discuss it starting next week. Anyway, the building of our main library is massive. I had checked the book numbers and locations earlier to the books I wanted, but had pretty much forgotten them by now. I remembered "B" and "D" when I should have remembered "DC 148 S43" and "BR 125 L67," but unfortunately my memory is not that wonderfully talented. After my initial walk up a floor, turning around and walking down two floors, before deciding to actually go through the door to the floor two floors up, for which I'm sure I looked a fool, I found myself in a labyrinth of bookcases. And there was the "BD" section right in front of me! I was excited, but there were so so many shelves around me. I walked through one aisle absentmindedly and stopped in the middle. The first book I saw said something to the effect of The Coming of Thanatos. I shuddered, became intrigued, but then walked on. That place is amazing and I could spend hours in there if I had a mind to - there is practically no one in the mile long expanses of shelves, and there is absolute silence. However, after 10 minutes or so of perusing books and subjects, I was defeated and resolved to come back after my last class. I could have looked up the ID's of the books in a computer lab that was in the library, but there seemed a very mildly difficult way of signing in and I feared somehow screwing up and instead made a few calls to people in hopes that they'd look up my information for me. I'm an awful and lazy person I know. I didn't get any results.

On the way out of the library I ran into a number of breakings of the social code, as I know it. First, I found myself blocked in an aisle on Hinduism by an older student, who either did not notice my desire to pass or didn't notice the confined space between shelves that necessitate one-way, or no, traffic. I ended up giving up and walking back the way I had come and circling around in the adjacent aisleway. Just because of that, I'm never converting to Hinduism. Next, (and not really that bothersome) I found myself leaving the floor at the same time as a middle-aged oriental man. The stairwell was abuzz with people flowing upwards, but it seemed to be only myself and my comrade between Floors 3 and 2. Still, he took each step as if savoring it, and several times took out his cell phone and practically stopped to read whatever was on the screen. It was an ordeal traveling down that one floor's distance.

Lastly, on my way out, I planned first to go out the automated door, but reconsidered on seeing the sign reminding all to conserve energy and use the revolving doors. There were two people in the doors ahead of me when I entered, and both put a great deal of effort into the pushing of the doors so I decided I'd casually wait out the end to the rotation as there didn't seem to be anyone in any of the other doors. There seemed just enough energy in the door's motion to propel me out to open air, but it stopped just short. It was then that I noticed that a rather large Asian boy was behind me in MY part of the door. I panicked. The door had all but stopped moving and in order to provide sufficient force to make the door complete its half-rotation, I would need to lean heavily on the door, stepping back into the kid. I paused momentarily to contemplate the absurdity of this kid's decision to dissolve all social order and enter my already filled compartment, and then leaned awkwardly against the glass and pushed as hard as I could, giving the minimum force required to provide escape from the hellish situation. Ahh, fresh air and space. I'm using the automatic door forevermore.

After my last class, ran into another awkward problem I couldn't remedy in my head. I typically walk with a girl (whose name I can't remember...) for a few minutes before we part ways to go to our own dorms. This time however, I was going her direction to the library so I planned on walking with her. The problem was, that I was late to class and had a very different hairstyle from my recent haircut, and she I don't think knew I was there. After class I ended up right next to her for a good while without either of us saying anything, but I got off easy because she ran into someone she recognized and I fled quickly. In my defense, I don't think she knows my name either.

Walking to get an early dinner/snack I passed through our campus's area of greatest advertisement/awareness-mongering and passed in between curiously differing groups. On my right, awareness of third-world prostitutes and general call for charity-people standing together in "NOT FOR SALE" T-shirts. On my left, the U.T. water-ski team, complete with sunglassesed jocks, rockin' music, and a large motorboat.

When I left with my food, there was a group that just a little ways in front of me that provided for some awkwardness-driven comedy. The last to exit the building was one of the girls and she looked back at me as she held the door, then to the door, then back at me, and then walked out. I made it to the door shortly after and she apologized for not holding the door open (when by my analysis the distance was much too great between us), proclaiming that she was awful with awkwardness, but this sparked a brief debate between the three of them of the distance, and whether it is even necessary to hold a door open for a guy. The guy in their group concluded that there is an unwritten "Bro Code" that we can safely abide by, to which I responded with a simple thumbs up.

And the last awkward thing that has happened thusfar in the day occurred actually while I was contemplating this irregularly long list of happenings. I was within a hundred feet or so of my dorm building with another tenant a few steps behind me, and a bush with bees flying wildly just beside and in front of me. Now, I'm fairly clumsy (who isn't) and don't always take my steps too intentionally, so I tripped over nothing and ended up within a few centimeters of the hedge bush and my head knocked against one of the bees. Attempting to salvage some dignity in the eyes of the walker behind me, I kept at a straight line (bee-line haha) right next to the hedge, but after I had passed by the hedge completely, quite a number of the bees had remained with me. There were several flying beside me and two directly in front of my face. After a few steps, my old fear of bees cropped up too powerfully and I did a swift both-palms-up-to-block-my-face maneuver, accompanied by a 360 spin on my heel and then tried to walk into the building as if nothing had happened. It felt like one of those walk-through-a-spiderweb-moments, except that a swarm of bees is quite noticeable to the outside eye. I'm an accomplished bee-killer, so I may take out a can of raid one of these days and exact my revenge.

THE END (of another too long and time-wasting post)

My folktale teacher had a really funny joke today:

What did the Buddhist say to the hot dog vender?

Make me one with everything.

Still one of the funniest videos I've ever seen

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Os6raCCmAFk

Dear Random Campus Kiosk Workers:

Please stop offering me complimentary Valentines condoms. Thank you. That is all for now.

What I plan on reading for the next few months

1. At Swim Two Birds
2. Heart of Darkness
3. The Picture of Dorian Gray
4. American Pastoral
5. A Brief History of Nearly Everything
6. Underworld
7. Barrel Fever
8. Assassination Vacation
9. 1776
10. Confessions

A Pathetic and Possibly Humorous Account of How I Just Spent My Night-Morning:

I slept most of the day away and didn’t leave my bed until around 4 pm (the point at which I had to use the facilities, grab myself a poptart pack, etc.). I went to sleep around 5 am the previous morning and woke up around 3 pm on Sunday. I had set my alarm in case I felt moved to go to my church, but seeing as I don’t even recall the alarm going off…it was a grand failure. Next, about an hour after doing nothing (no, I did read some Euro-folktales for a while in there), I set about watching more of the first season of Heroes. I watched three episodes, ending in the epic Homecoming episode (poor Charlie-I like that actress a lot even though I’ve only seen her in a few episodes of Heroes and one of Pushing Daisies – she’s just so dreadfully quirkily charming).

Around 5 I was planning on going to either of three churches, but I found legitimate excuses for missing each. Don’t scold me yet – they really are fairly legitimate excuses. One church I don’t know the name or location of, and I am waiting to attend it with a friend of mine. With the second church, I was planning on going to the Catholic Center for church this morning (because I’m not terribly fond of “my” church’s current lesson plan: gleaning general life lessons from the book of Revelations) with a friend of mine, but seeing as I woke up too late for the first services of which I assume he went to one, and as I haven’t been to a mass since I was eight-years-old and feared an improper dress code rebuke or something of a similar nature, I decided not to go. The third church I considered going to is the Austin Stone Church, a greatly spirited place, but one so tremendously loud that I didn’t wish to aggravate my intense headache further (likely received from sitting with headphones not lifting my head for long periods of time). After all this mental argumentation, I resolved to watch that last Heroes episode and then take a shower.

Alright that was all useless background.

Sometime between 6 and 7 I talked with my friend Jonathan over Facebook and he told me he was sick, and suspiciously my headache began to take on the form of some sort of cold after we spoke…darn internet viruses. After that I began the journey of The Godfather on the wonderful AMC channel – thoroughly enjoyed of course, and now I can actually declare myself as a real movie-watcher. The only downside was that 30-40% of the four hour time period in which it played was commercials. Since The Godfather is for the most part a very quiet movie, the volume had to remain high, and commercials love to raise that volume bar to the maximum. Also, I don’t ever want to see an Enzyte, Extenze, Viagra, or any other of that sort of commercial again…ridiculous - they're so explicit. Finally, to announce the return of the movie at the end of each break, ear-shattering action music would play, from which I still don’t believe I have fully recovered. There was a second downside – tonight was open door night and as we’re in a distant back hallway and didn’t leave our rooms, we didn’t meet a tremendous amount of people. But it was Godfather night! Most people that came in felt as if they were intruding with Fenton in bed and myself staring intently at the screen even while talking occasionally. The few people that did brave conversation for any real length I’ve forgotten their names already. I was planning on getting one of them a Dark Knight poster but I forgot the name so that makes for some difficulty.

Alright still all fairly useless background...

As I had not fully recovered on sleep from the week, I set out to fall asleep immediately at the movie’s end at 11. Exhaustion laid heavy on me, but as the television went off, the lights came on! Fenton had to read for class. I made a few bold attempts at sleep, and somehow dozed for 45 minutes, but then I was wide awake with no hope of sleeping, as I still am. I got up to read my homework and got through nearly all of it for the week, excluding books I couldn’t find and all the pages missing in my Folklore packet. At around one, I started to feel bad about keeping Fenton awake by the lights so I went out to the Pedernales Lounge to read a boring book about the Vietnamese Revolution. There was only one kid in there with me, who I think was just playing a video game of some sort half the time. I read for an hour or so and then realized that I had forgotten to turn the lights out when I’d left our room, thereby ruining the purpose for leaving for the uncomfortable lounge chairs of Pedernales. I went back and left my books so as to force myself to return and not to consider a sleep attempt. I brought my laptop back with me and set out to read emails and updated blogs, happened upon Andrew’s and decided to myself make some sort of list to clear my head, or to fill it with something worthwhile, whichever came from it.

I opened a Word Document and typed out “Life Goals:” and then a few lines down “Goals for the immediate future:”. I wrote a few idiotic sentiments and desires, but I couldn’t really think of anything. I sat and pondered what in the past had once seemed so important to me for a time, but none of my old fancies really remain with me nowadays. And so, I stooped so low as to read the goals lists of strangers – most of which had half the items begin with “Have sex on/in/near/with/outside.” The only thing I really gathered from these were that I really want to go up in a hot air balloon someday. Or maybe become a aeronautic balloonist in my later years. I tried to take a few of the silly online quizzes that five-year-olds make, but usually ended up finding the questions so idiotic that I wouldn’t finish them. I did however learn in Norse Mythology I would be Baldr, “associated with light and beauty,” in Roman mythology I would be Venus…, and in Greek Mythology I would be Hades or Morpheus. I guess it’s hard to be accurate when you throw in questions like “Do you tend to have multiple lovers at the same time? (mostly true)” and “Do you like to spread your wings and fly?”

Needless to say, I came out with nothing of use, except that I’m apparently vain in Norse mythology, and from the results of Greek and Roman, I have a terribly dark and skewed view about love…


Unable to read anymore about Vietnam, I returned back to the room and noticed how terrible my entire body felt. In addition to the fledgling sickness, my body had sufficiently atrophied during the weekend at this point, having only really transported myself from bed to chair to bathroom for two days. I decided to stretch my body out and try to alleviate the intense tension that made my body feel like a stone and my head feel like an inferno. A few leg leans and windmills and other lessons I learned from Coach Pool in junior high P.E. later…nothing. Nothing in my body would crack and now my body was feeling much worse than before. “Time to bring out the big guns” I thought to myself, and forced my memory back to my gymnastics days. Not enough room to do a cartwheel without breaking, well everything. The splits are now impossible. Ah…I know just the thing: the backwards lean into half-back handspring! In case that wasn’t a clear enough description, all that is done is the flexible individual leans backward with arms outstretched behind them and palms upward so as to catch the floor, resulting in a sort of very tall crab position, or a bodily arch. Unfortunately, I severely overestimated the extent to which I have retained my gymnastics skills from second grade. I may be limbo champion, but taking it backwards another notch is a very different scenario, especially when your body lacks strength and flexibility. My body bent right and my left arm did not bend properly, so my body bridge result was one without a certain important limb, the left arm. A surprising amount of thoughts streamed through my head between the time my right arm hit the floor and my head flew back into the recycle bin. 1. “Well this isn’t going to work.” 2. “Maybe there won’t be anything in the way.” 3. “I think I might actually be able to recover this.” 4. “Woah! My head is moving extremely quickly towards that bin.”5. “This is going to be loud…” And it was. Fenton stirred and I just lay there on my back, legs crumpled beneath me, my head in a pile of bottles, hoping he wouldn’t come to investigate. That would be a hard one to explain. I've done weirder. After a minute or two, I gathered up dignity remnants sparsely scattered among the plastic bottles, and then trained with a few more beginner-level exercises before braving the stunt again. Trial 2 was a success, except for the further shattering of my Jack Skellington wristwatch.

I guess what I've come to realize in these misadventures is that...
1. I need to fix my sleep schedule. No good comes out of being awake this late, except that I'm almost guaranteed to make it to breakfast.
2. Gymnastics should be reserved to areas with sufficient space.
3. I need to reevaluate my priorities and contemplate my future through more grounded eyes - build castles in the sky and then construct the foundations.
4. I really hope my list of goals never turns into have sex here and there.
5. The Godfather is a good'un. I can't wait to see part II next weekend.
6. I still miss the first season of Heroes
7. I need to make an effort to remember a person's name when I meet them.
8. I need to start moving occasionally.
9. I need to start writing more than just mindless blather and barely clever observations about life, which will probably mean I'm done blogging for awhile.
10. I'll start posting again once I regain some perspective on life.

If it wasn't obvious...

Writing about the forsaking of my heroes was almost entirely an attempt at staying awake until breakfast. Does anyone have any (non-obvious) suggestions for fixing my hours, or possibly how to make better use of my late night time? I seem to be overcome with the urge to sleep at both five o'clocks everyday - both of which are a terrible idea. As it is now I just sleep from late afternoon into the night, then sit in my bed and read, or else out in the Pedernales Room lounge a hallway over, or just sit and think.

Goodbye Heroes

I've all but given up on this show. No, I'm giving up this show. First season was wonderful and second season wasn't terrible (though I can't remember much of it that I liked). As much as I've grown to hate characters in the show, it will still be tough to break with my relationship to the series. I've already resolved not to watch 24 this season for various reasons and so my Monday night will no doubt feel empty. The occasional Heroes episode might still slip through the cracks as my roommate's friend down a few halls apparently loves the show and no longer has a TV of his own. Still, his watching it in our room in no way binds me to watch what is left of Heroes and I plan on watching as little as possible.

In the beginning I had such optimism for this show. On the recommendation of a few friends, I watched the first season in about three days' time, and left ecstatic about the show's future, and championed Heroes to any fellow television viewer. While hating such vile, flat characters as Peter's girlfriend, Simone Deveaux, (and still hating) whatever Ali Larter's characters' names were (and are), I fell in love with Noah Bennett, Hiro Nakamura, and Gabriel Gray. Characters like Mohinder, the Haitian, Peter and Nathan had many high points as well. Each of the rest of the cast seemed for the most part to add a necessary component as well and I had very little other problems with characters (and I even remember liking, or at least contentedly tolerating, Claire at points - it's hard to imagine that far back now). After watching the season finale, there were a few loose ends and obvious room for development, but there was closure on the plot of "Save the cheerleader, Save the world" storyline.

I left first season tremendously pleased and couldn't wait for the next season to start, in which the teaser trailer promised background on our favorite heroes and associates. I remember at one point even thinking that Heroes was the show whose next season I looked forward to the most. Mind you, this was just after the gloriously confusing and exciting Lost 2nd season finale and The Office's Casino Night. I of course still yearned for these two shows, but Heroes seemed to stand alone in my mind. When the second season arrived and aired, I was disappointed, but Hiro's jokes, the awesomeness of Noah, Sylar, and Mohinder, and the relative "bearability" of the rest of the cast urged me forward. After all, with the writer's strike, the story came and went quickly.

With third season though, came ruin, for our relationship. The idea seemed interesting: making our heroes villains and vice versa, and one or two episodes I still greatly enjoyed, but the characters that emerged from the experience seem almost interchangeable now. What made the characters themselves has ceased to exist and too many of the cast members seem like stock characters or otherwise just extras along for the ride. By the end, I only looked forward to the deaths of my most hated characters.

As a memorial, I plan to watch first season again, but you've changed Heroes. I'm sorry. There's too much Claire. Character development is dead. At least Sylar is still killing people. Goodbye. I'll look for highlights in the future.

The Reasons for My Intelligence

I'm sorry, I can neither get this silly blog to print these as hyperlinks or as videos in this window.

The Epic Presidents Song
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vvy0wRLD5s8

Animaniacs On Hamlet (Yakko Contemplating Yorick):
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=07ej4zNlhpU

This forever will be one of the greatest cartoon shows to ever be made, even though after watching it for years I developed the unfortunate side-effect of thinking that anyone that has a John Lennon style of voice must be like Wakko, and therefore an idiot. Sorry John, it's psychological.

(I just watched Animaniacs videos for the last hour and a half in waiting for breakfast, which has finally come and gone.)

Memoirs of a Former Third Grade Intercontinental Movee:

Memories are always fading, and I decided that writing out stories of my memories of Scotland (as I remember them) may be a helpful exercise so that I might remember the important and insignificant events which occurred during my short stay overseas now more than a decade ago. Like I said, the writing will primarily benefit me, but I hope that it will prove in some ways enjoyable to you few.

My life began in the Woodlands, truly began in Dallas, and then became drastically altered when I was 8-years-old with the news that I would be moving to Scotland...or as drastically changed as the life of one that young can be. I'm sure the move was harder on my brother. I remember at the time having no idea of where Scotland was, and pompously thinking that it must be some place far far away and little known about since someone as intelligent in school as I was hadn't a clue of its geographic location. My dad brought us home a sort of Traveler's Guide to Scotland video that showed us wide green lands, castles, probably kilts, bagpipes, highland games, etc. Comfort did not reach me through this video. My life was changing and not in a foreseeable way, nor even one that allowed me to see into my future in any useful way - the future was now absolute mystery. We were flying across the ocean, somewhere, going rightward, towards England, but not exactly to England. I remember making a great histrionic scene among my closest friends at the lunch table on my last day in the cafeteria at Donald Elementary School. Still, the goodbyes weren't terribly sad and I don't recall any tears being involved, just the understanding that we would be parting ways. We had each come to terms with the move, or more accurately I had. My tight-knit group of friends would certainly manage fine without me. Being the shyest little boy in all existence, I did not look forward to the challenge of building up friendships once more among people who apparently even had a slightly different language than us, but after a few nights and days of sporadic tears, I readied myself in a small way.

I do not remember packing, nor the airport, but I know that my dad had left Texas slightly earlier than us to "set up" the house and get everything ready for us. I remember first seeing the house, 2 Springdale (Court?) and had no emotions about the interior except that I was excited at having a bunk bed, even if it was a room I had all to myself. Our house as I remember it was split into two halves. On the left, upon entering, one would find the living and dining rooms, along with the kitchen, and on the right was a short hallway with our bedrooms and a bathroom (which one day flooded our house via the tub - I cannot remember who was to blame but my gut feeling is my mother). I believe that my room was the last door on the left. It's funny to me that one can live in a house for a year and hardly remember the layout of the place, or even the types of rooms that were in the house. I believe I recall being in the dining room only once eating Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner. I say this only because in this memory there is at least one guest who I do not recognize, and of course, turkey. I do not remember eating any other meals there, nor any late nights staying up or trying to sleep.

The memories I do have of simply living there in that house are sparse and strange. One of my most vivid memories was actually of one late night in which I finally started to trying to sleep later than usual, but could not. There was a high pitched and slightly frightening sound coming from a few rooms away from time to time. I knew not what it was, nor why it seemed to repeat itself often, and still fluctuate at other times. In the morning I inquired after the noise to my brother and discovered that he had unlocked the famed character, Ness, in the N64's Super Smash Brothers. Shouts of "PIKETANUS!" and other strange Ness noises had kept me awake the previous night. Most other memories are only trivial - of waking up often in the top bunk (my bed of choice), sitting up, and heading my head hard, of sitting down at my desk to do homework, of hurrying inside from the cold in 3-4 thick coats. In that house, I know that I was well looked after and cared for, but I have only the memory of this generalized feeling and no real, evidential proof. However, the short-lived home was in fact a home, even if seldom remembered.

Bring on the Breakfast

My sleep schedule has become more hectic than ever. I'm currently sitting in my bed waiting for breakfast to start in a few hours. Here are a couple of lists that I drew up in my boredom:

List of those I at least at some point called my best friends as I remember them chronologically:

Kindergarten: Ethan Something-Jonathan Foster
1st-2nd: Jake Something
3rd: Dylan Something (although he stole my third grade first crush Ashley Something)-Kendall Brown
4th and on: Scott Baumgarten-Trey Stanley (I believe my first two good friends upon my moving back to the states)
I still don't remember when I became friends with either: Jonathan Schindler-Andrew Roberts.

Many thanks to you all though I know for a fact that only one on this list will ever read this. You've all made my life much more enjoyable or bearable, depending on the situation.


Synesthesia (basically one sense evoking another) linking songs/artists and the stories I have come to identify them with usually just coincidentally):

1. Dreaming by Loudon Wainwright III - Life of Pi by Yann Martel
2. Greet Death by Explosions in the Sky - White Nights (short story by Dostoevsky)
3. Com(?) by Mono - Under Fire by Henri Barbusse
4. Pagan Poetry by Bjork - Dante's Inferno
5. Another Town by Regina Spektor (and really just all of Regina) - Cold Mountain by Charles Frazier
6. Gates of Eden by Bob Dylan - Frankenstein by Mary Shelley

I find these connections I have in my brain infinitely interesting. The most firmly implanted one would be Life of Pi and Dreaming. Literally anytime I hear the first notes of the song, my mind immediately summons up an image of a young, emaciated boy, laying on his back within a small boat in the middle of the ocean. Of course, this was not the intention of the song and only vaguely relates, the two have become fused - all because I happened to get the album: So Damn Happy at the same time as Life of Pi. In the song now though, I have a specific example of one who simply wishes to be done with life and all its pains, but still holds on with his last. The song thus has changed into one of significant hope, and of a boy's imagination shutting out the horrors of reality.

The Mono and Explosions connections are only natural, as I listen to instrumental music when reading typically, but the nature of the songs matches scenes of the book and a close tie is still drawn.

With regard to Bjork, I decided to start listening to Vespertine to match the mood of Dante when we were assigned The Inferno and thus anything Bjorkish brings about scenes from the depths of Hell, most often the second circle, with the lovers cast about in a whirlwind forever. It was really just an attempt to add an eerie atmosphere to my reading. The Spektor-Frazier connection was also a conscious choice, and maybe not one completely fitting, but some songs certainly share the sentiments of the novel, as with Another Town. There's love, death, and melancholy all wrapped up in a nice package.

The Dylan connection I still have no idea how got settled in my brain. I know that when we read Frankenstein for class I was listening to a lot of Dylan in preparing to write my speech on the man for Decathlon, but in listening to the hundreds of songs left to me by my brother, this one stuck. The folk sound and the harmonica parts don't fit with any of my feelings on Frankenstein at all, but I suppose the chorus words describing the terrible world that exists outside the gates matched my feelings of sympathy towards the forlorn monster in some way.

The brain will always remain a strange and mysterious device in my mind. Does anyone else have any of these strange connections of memory and sense?

Parks

So I've discovered that I love being in a park or in any sort of remotely park-like area I guess, but parks specifically because such interesting and happy events are always happening in every direction.

One of my favorite memories is just walking down a busy beach when I was in Hawaii alone and watching. Of course, the beauty of Hawaii does not exist in Austin, and the happenings typically much less entertaining, but it's the joy of seeing such joyful groups of people together without worries or inhibitions. I enjoy parks i think for the same reason I love This American Life (www.thisamericanlife.org) stories - little embarrassing, comical, or nonsensical stories and events, seemingly trivial, but universal and moving.

A park is like a Bizarro mall.
Reason 1: I hate malls. I love parks.
Reason 2: Groups get along better in parks than in malls. There's no real agenda most of the time and everything is just simpler, so you hardly ever see parents yelling at their children or people arguing over where to go. Even when kids do something stupid that would normally be chided, parents can look around and see for one, other children likely doing somehting more worthy of their chiding like say well, at least he's not eating a bug like that kid by the lake...or worse, sitting reading a book like that long-haired, girly-looking teenager on the bench. The other reason is simply because of the "it's cool" environment parks have. Anything goes in a park, as long as it's family friendly. There are no rules (except maybe keep off the grass and certain common sense codes, in addition to what is found in our state's and our nation's constitution of course) in a park. Furthermore in malls children must be constantly told what they cannot have, but in a park, all that is nature is for the taking!
Reason 3: While mall-shopping ventures made at anytime but Christmas are usually for the purpose of improving style or chic, there is no almost no attention paid whatsoever to one's appearance in a park, let alone one's style. Of course, if you're the lonely wandering poet or would like to be, you might get some mysterious and deep points. And I'm sure there are 100 other self-absorbed characters ambling about as well, but they are largely drowned out. My primary evidence for the case I made earlier is with the runners. These people seemingly publicly degrade themselves - they're not looking for any sort of points. I mean, if you're going to go running to try to attract the ladies or gentlemen, you'll more than likely be wholly out of luck. Unless you're some fine Aphrodite or Andrew Roberts, you're going to be truly tired after maybe 5, 10, 20, or 60 minutes for the true athletes, and at some point you're going to get that kind of tired where your muscle control begins to slow and your arms just flop about before you. Call it sick pleasure, but I enjoy seeing these people, not knowing if they've just run 10 miles or 10 feet, but just seeing the exhaustion that can almost say nothing but, I came outside for the fresh air and the exercise.
Reason 4: Wildlife, the great outdoors
(And yes, I do understand that this is a pointless and really quite absurd comparison, but so it is and so it shall be. I could almost make the same comparisons between Disneyworld and a park. In truth, I'm just pro the old American outdoors, or what we can still grasp of it, and anti lesser types of fun and adventure in the commercial world. Plus, I'm not a big fan of shopping.)


Anyway, I thought I would just relay some of the silly smile-worthy events I've had at my last two trips down to the "Austin Lake" that is actually as I am informed the (lesser) Colorado River partitioned off by dams into small "lakes" (or "lochs" for my loyal Scottish readers).

Last trip of last semester:
(prepark) Underneath a bridge, I walk by graffiti of a purple octopus with its tentacles fluttering out in every direction with the words "whichever way the wind blows" sprayed over it

I see my first excited game of frolf in action, with a man obviously taking the sport too seriously, and the female with him simply laughing at his efforts.

Children ride about on horses, beaming, in a clearing nearby the frolfers

A couple speaking their native (oriental) language joyfully to one another while watching a flock of birds fly by

Like something out of Sleeping Beauty or some other fantasy of the sort, a Spanish family sits downhill from me on and around a stump (which at first upset me because I had made my mind up to read on that very stump) and begin to throw some sort of food on the ground around them, and at least 10 squirrels run down the hill to them without hesitation - family smiles and laughs happily as they now handfeed the squirrels, teaching their youngest daughter to for the first time - she looks at first terrified and struggles to keep her eyes open even, but the squirrel pecks the morsel away and her face lights up

A young woman struck by the beauty of the beginning sunset at her right, slowly collides with the man she is with and after a laugh, the two set down bikes and watch it together

Boy finds tennis ball, looks cautiously all around him and sees that it is now his - takes ball happily and tosses it high in the air - ball lands in stream - boy looks confused - boy prances happily along again beside his mother

Spanish Americans rock out to some Latina tunes underneath bridge - I contemplate joining, fear being ostracized and continue walking

At least once every 10-20 minutes, kids are wildly excited by the sight of ducks


Today's trip:

Parked at CVS after church and walked towards the lake, immediately run into a homeless man? and an out-of-gas driver struggling to push a car up to the nearby gas station - help out (regrettably we're all in this together somehow plays momentarily in my head)

Family of four in a plastic red canoe seem to be struggling as the two young boys have set their minds on oaring for land and the parents try to keep them out at sea - woman in front of me calls out to them "you all look like you've got it under control" - oldest boy yells "We're headeded for SHE-ORE!"

Man calmly explains to woman the absurdity of bears being able to climb trees

I'm walking on a wide path with no figures nearby in front or behind - a young Spanish girl accidentally? runs over my leg with her tiny pink barbie bike tire. I turn around and look at her - her eyes are wide and her face emotionless, then a mischievous smile before she speeds past me

Boy follows dog into lake

Countless families engaging in the practice of Stroller Running - a couple gasping out breaths of conversation to each other as one pushes their infant along with them in its stroller

Something that is not worth your time

This is what I wrote when I woke up for the second time this morning. There's no real great profundity to it, but feel free to apply your very own dream analyses if you wish. It was the first non-nightmare I've had in quite awhile so it was quite exciting to me. Also, keep in mind that this was written immediately upon waking and I have edited hardly at all, so absurd butchery of the English language may have been done. Forgive me.

I wish I would have written this dream down earlier (8:18 am January 23, 2009) –

Part 1: The Lovely Bakress and the Troll

I went to a cooking competition with my mom. It was also an academic contest that I in the dream had apparently been to the year before as one 20-something-year-old bespectacled boy reminded me with short brown slightly curly hair, and it had been the best food I'd ever eaten. He asked me if I had liked the eggs last time and I at first couldn't remember and just told him empty words like "It wasn't not delicious. I remember it wasn’t the greatest thing in the world, but I really did like it." He also congratulated me on this time being a part of the baking part of the competition and asked me how many eggs he thought we'd need. "Do you think 15 will be enough?" I did the math in my head with the number of people believed to be coming and the number was significantly higher, but I just told him, "probably."

He then remembered that I hadn't yet met my cooking partner and excitedly hurried me to meet her. However, we got stopped along the way by a fairly large woman (who looked extremely similar to my high school creative writing teacher) who introduced herself as the cooking event's coordinator. She redirected us to the before-competition meal. She separated me from my glasses-wearing friend and set us at our assigned seats. For that matter, I have no idea how we were logically arranged unless a random number generator was involved because I was nearly as far away as possible from my mother on the other side of the round table, seating around 25-30. I was between two boys that seemed to be young junior highers or younger. Unless they were child cooking proteges, which would seem to me to be quite dangerous and bad parenting to allow such a dangerous hobby at such an age. Knives and fire typically bring about unfavorable results for junior high boys The two seemed to be longtime friends and kept talking over me, well not over me, they were practically hobbits, but I just sat and watched my mother as I waited for the food. When the first plate arrived, I knew that this was to be an odd meal. The first played that was bought out was a giant decorated slab of red meat. They placed it right in front of my mother. The possibilities for a humorous joke to win the young ones over seemed endless in this situation but I settled on silly/shock value in saying something about how I thought it was strange that they actually caught and cooked a whole coyote and managed to keep it all in one piece. "No way!" the kids said in disbelief, but immediately returned to their conversation and i waited as the plates of strange exotic foods were brought in from every side.

Eventually somehow we made it through the meal, the director said something about the contest and encouraged us all to prepare for the competition. The majority of people went off to go shower and I agreed to meet my friend just outside the showers. I went in to take one myself, but the terribly great population of the communal male showers overwhelmed me and I turned around to walk right back out. Somehow though the entrance had been moved or closed off so I had to venture through halls of showers until I could finally make my escape, eyes still to the floor. I ran into my friend just outside of the building who said impatiently that he'd been waiting for me, as if he had something pressing to tell me. He told me quickly about how the event coordinator would be trying to get him and my partner's, so his and my team, out of the competition. Of course, dramatic timing brought the woman out to us just as a curse at her was uttered by my friend. She flamed up and immediately proclaimed his discharge from the cooking competition. I wandered back to the building in which the competition was to start in a few hours. I found out that the children to young adults were in one competition and the adults in the other, so I walked upstairs to a room of loud young strangers. Trudging about the room in search of my yet unidentified partner, I eventually walked up to our long cooking counter and glanced at what all was there. Not exactly knowing why I was there and trying to recall how I had gotten myself involved in this as I glanced around at all the cooking utensils I didn't know how to use and foreign spices, I leaned down and rested my forearms on the table and prepared to wait everything out. I heard a voice to my right and turned my head questioningly, "Do you think 15 eggs will be enough?" The ridiculous underestimate of the amount and the fact that no one seemed to know elementary math, or at least the normal ratio of eggs to person was not lost on me, I even decided in that moment that maybe I was only in the competition because I was in some country that did not believe in mathematics and I was a necessary commodity, but I only said, "People seem to be asking me that question a lot." Then it dawned on me that this must be my partner. She was really a beautiful girl, fairly tall, my age plus or minus a year, and with curly red hair in a ponytail, and then I realized why my pal had been so eager to introduce me to her. Two beautiful. people together...just kidding.

We talked together about the absurdity of the contest and when she began to talk about how she loved cooking and aspired to chef greatness, I admitted that I had really never cooked in my life, besides the occasional cake and poptarts. She laughed and agreed to tell me about how to cook our food list, as soon as we made it. We began to talk about ideas, she in actuality coming up with all of the good ideas of course. I was mainly only there to smile and laugh with her excitability upon coming to a great idea.

We had nearly completed our item list when the coordinator came in and immediately began to rebuke all of the cooks for standing around and not working. She raved about how they may not even hold a competition this year because of our disrespectful attitude towards the sport (and I believed she used the word tomfoolery). My partner immediately became upset and defensive. Ma’am, we have just spent the last hour coming up with our menu, and I know that everyone around here has at least spent some amount of time in mental preparation. You've kept us up here for hours without instruction, it's only natural. (She said something to that effect - I doubt I remember all her words accurately). The coordinator only contorted her face and spat out a few insults at the girl, most of which were completely unfounded and she turned to walk back out, surely with the intention of disqualifying her as my earlier friend had warned. I decided that I wasn't going to let that happen with I'm sure some amount of heroism or romanticism in my head in confronting the ogress for the honor of my partner, who had begun to tear up, but mainly for the simple reasons that I had no business being there at a cooking contest and I had a good deal of pent up anger at this woman by now. I yelled something about how she was an unfit judge and jury in this competition and went on until she cut me off, screaming disqualifications. My mother too was soon after disqualified (as I had a ride home), likely for being an unfit mother or some like business. My partner hugged me goodbye and I wished her luck and I was on my way. I spent the ride home apologizing to my mother who had greatly desired to compete, and that part of the dream ended with us driving in silence and wondering how the competition went without us.