I love chicken, I love liver...

You would think that I would update this thing more since I have interweaving access at work, yet... alright, so I didn't. But now I shall speedvent, a term I have now coined and decided to trademark.

Okay, so you may sense some bitterness towards the subject of trademarking, at the present moment. How can someone trademark "you're fired". I'm sure that everyone at one point in their life will use that phrase. Whether you are on the delivering end or simply repeating it in a parrot-caught-in-the-headlights fashion once you have been on the receiving end, the two words will undoubtedly come up at some point in your life. I mean, think about all of the other trademarks that there are out in the world and the utter simplicity of so many of them. I mean without realizing it I may stubble and use something like "I'm lovin' it," or *gasp* "the power of dreams" (ten awesome points for anyone who can give me the company which created that gem), but to actually charge people for its use seems stupid.

I'm pretty sure that a well rounded argument on the freedom of speech could dispel the evils of the big box and scary corporations who would own all that we say and charge us to say it, but I would also probably be killed right around the point of the thesis statement, so eloquently stated, that it would cause puppies to launch themselves into other puppies as an act of sheer desperation and a grab at attention. Thus, this is not a well worded essay and can not be used in court. Mostly this stands as an angry rant without a true introduction or conclusion, just a lot of randomly joined sentences in between, and thus I live to see another day.

I guess that the whole 'freedom of speech' doesn't hold up anymore. Think about some of those books you read as a kid, you know, the kind you were forced into reading like 1984, and were responsible for writing a book report for otherwise you'd be punished by a higher authority with bad marks which you were convinced would doom you to a future in trash collection. Just in case you didn't pick up on the irony of the situation, it was also dripping with sarcasm which may affect the taste slightly. Anyway, point is that we are raised believing that we should be the ones who decide our own future and have the ability to say whatever we want as we are told to by people in greater places of power. Add a couple of words beginning with the letter V and we may have a blockbuster on our hands.

Well, I hope that in some way I've been able to enlighten you, of course, I may also have been paid by the 'man'.

I am a jerkface

Hey, guess what I just realized, I’m a total jerk when it comes to exam week, and my finger hurts.

Alright, first things first, I’m sorry if I did anything mean to you in the last two weeks. It’s been the middle of exams, I have no idea the time or day that it is, and normally I’m fairly grumpy to begin with, let alone when I’m stressed out with finals. I suppose that this could be seen as being my own fault as I pretty much start studying the day before the exam (thank you procrastination), but overall I tend to become slightly more stressed out with less time to actually prepare and study for exams in classes I would rarely attend.

Now onto my finger problem, amidst the rushed working on my design portfolio, I kinda stuck an Xacto knife in my fingernail. Worried it would get caught on something and rip off, I sanded the whole nail down and now it’s really thin and ouchy when I use it to support or touch anything, including this keyboard. Again, this lead to increased grumpiness and overall stress.

The combination of these many factors leads to my chronic problem of mysterious pantslessness. Go figure, spell check isn’t recognizing that one. Anyway, in combination of little sleep, lots of stress, and a lack of any desire to follow though with anything pertaining to personal hygiene, I will often wake up wearing a shirt and underwear in strand places, like the laundry room or foyer. I’m not sure why, maybe my brain thinks the whole set up is a good idea, but this happens, a surprising amount. Reason number 53 why I’m single and can never have a roommate.

But life is all changed now and I’ve come to the realization that I have been a jerkface. Feel free to call me and complain about how dumb I am. I will be accepting criticism until May third at approximately 2 pm. After that time I will demean you with witty comebacks and smart remarks regarding how much more awesome I am. Until then, I will sit politely and accept yelling.

Call me, leave a message so that I can ignore you for at least two days, then we can go for coffee, I’ll buy.

READ ME

I'M GOING TO USE ALL CAPITALS LIKE I'M SCREAMING SO PAY ATTENTION:

COME TO THE PLANT (U of A) ON WEDNESDAY, MARCH 22ND, AT 8:00.

It' s my little brother's last concert in Edmonton for I'm not sure how long, so come. It will be good! I'll see you all! And Tiff will be there. And there was a really weird coincidence thing that went on, so come. Yes.

Caution: don't read while driving, or while sad, and maybe not while hungry

Alrighty, (not in a Jim Carey voice, also lacking the ‘then’), I suppose I should update this blog thing. I mean, my visitor count still goes up considering I haven’t bestowed you all with my infinite wisdom as of late, so I probably should try to leave you all not as disappointed as if I had written something. Hey, my typing skills have gone down the pooper. Really. But in my defense, I have no life, nor time to write in this, but I will for you, the adoring fans.

I’m going to warn you that I’m in a grumpy mood, can’t really say why, suppose the whole stress and weight of life is getting to me, so my rant today won’t be the most pleasant of things. If you are already in a grumpy mood or simply live life believing that bad stuff does not in fact exist but unicorns, on the other hand, do, then skip ahead until you see lots of little asterixes and continue reading from there on in.

Change. It is inevitable. For the most part, having some control over change gives us all a sense of purpose, and generally that warm fuzzy feeling that lets you sleep easy all night and provides a healthy appetite. It is when this control is lost that you too become lost. Seeing everyone change around you also takes some getting used to. I mean we all try to make our lives comfortable and happy, for lack of a better word. In our homes, we paint the walls the colour we like, coordinate the furniture, and make sure that the ambient temperature is one that we are comfortable with. Then your home burns down. It is something out of our control and results in change. There are those crazy optimists who would tell you that you can make the best of the situation, insurance will cover it, and that everything can be replaced, but deep down you know it can’t be because that sense of comfort is gone, and there is no telling how long it will take to get back.

This is the same with less extravagant changes; friends moving on with life, moving, trying to figure out what you want to do, even deaths. And, of course, there are negative ways of dealing with this change, unhealthy methods that we all cling to in hopes of living a blissful life of ignorance. It’s not until you are all alone and left to your own thoughts that you realize, that no matter how hard you try, or what you do, things are never going to be the same.

We take comfort in our memories and delusions. It’s the dreams that we had as a child that we cling to because they are from a time in which everything made sense, and things were simple. It’s these dreams that we believe in somehow fulfilling them we will be brought back to that same peaceful state we were in some number of years ago when everything made sense. Your toughest decisions where based around avoiding naptime. Life, it seems, becomes more complex as you age, until you reach a point of recession. When you are young, you only think about yourself. No one else autonomously exists but instead is only there for your own sake. Things are simple; you control yourself and thus control everything around you. As you age there are more factors brought in by others. It’s everyone else you care about that start to complicate things. It’s having more, living the lifestyle you think you should have, and consumption that drive us. Age more and life recedes into that simple state again when we finally realize that control is not ours to have, but acceptance is the only tool we can depend on.

Imagine going back to your young self and trying to explain to the little tike that you might not actually become a super hero later on in life, as was your plan at the time. If being a super hero still makes you happy, then you should do it, but in the end, it’s a really long life ahead of you, and think about all of the people that spent theirs in misery surrounded by that widescreen tv and with that trophy wife/husband.

I guess that this is kind of in response to an email I received, and I’m not sure if my response helped. But here’s an anecdote that I think fits in, but I guess it’s all in the interpretation.

I was on the LRT today. Go figure, taking it is actually faster then driving in. I usually set up camp in the far back car where it remains less than ridiculously crowed. I spent some time trying to fit my headphones so that they don’t fall off if I chew gum, and at the same time pull out some homework I can work on before I arrive back at my car. Then he boarded. It was amazing, I didn’t notice him at first, thanks to Dirty Vegas blaring through my palm pilot, nor did I notice how quickly the seats around me had vacated. He sat across from me. You could tell that he had been on the streets for a while, his face bore cracks from the sun and dirt highlighted each and every pore on his face. He tried to tie his hair back with a few loose strands avoiding his calloused grip. The strange part was that he carried a two by four. Later I would realize that the discarded construction post was a make-shift crutch. My first instinct was to move away. Of course the proper part of me decided that this would be impolite and instead I turned up my music and spent time gazing out the window. You are taught not to look at people like this, turn away from the ugliness of life, but I really couldn’t. I stared at him. I’m not sure if he noticed as he spent most of the time wincing in pain and trying to force some circulation into his knee. I’ve been taught that people in his circumstances created them. There are social programs to help him out, provide an income, and overall, ensure his security. My teaching is telling me that he is lazy and brought this upon himself. Still, I can go to a doctor without a second thought. I’m not sure how those bills get paid but they do. I know I will never spend a night on the street, or understand what it’s like when you don’t know where your next meal is coming from. I could never imagine what it’s like to have people run away from you or avoid making eye contact.

Sometimes I feel caught up with everything, but the point is that it’s nothing that I can’t handle. I won’t always be happy with my decisions or those made for me. I won’t be thrilled if someone moves away. I’m not ecstatic about the idea of having to move on, but I still have control. I have something. Sometime during my thoughts he caught my eye. I’d love to say he flashed me a big toothless grin and all was well with the world, but it wasn’t. Not for him. As soon as he got off the train, his life would still be the same, and so would mine. But I didn’t look away.

I want to be happy, and so long as I am, I’ll be a success in my own eyes. This is not to say that I’ll be a success in other’s but if I spent all my time trying to please everyone else, I’d be a miserable person. I think that if we could all finish life saying that we did not regret things we had control over or decisions that we made, there is not greater success you can have.

********************** <- asterixes

And the happy bunnies made lots of little bunnies and would soon convert to cannibalism during a carrot shortage.

The end.

AUGH! COOTIES!!

Hey, I'm sick, and miserable. You know how you think that everyone is whiney about being sick but you? Well you're wrong, and now I'm whiney. Ugh, it feels like everything is in slow motion, I have no idea how long it's taking me to type this, but if time is money, which is correct under popular opinion, I'm giving away thousands. You know I read about advertizing on blogs and making money... hmm, exploit readers for monetary value, um, well... ah, LOOK A FUZZY BUNNY!

Anyway I'm going to have my first CONTEST ever. Pretty exciting, I know, and it isn't even your birthday, unless you were born today, what is today? I hate being sick. So the best comment someone writes telling me the secrets to get better quick will win my eternal love and adoration, until I forget what you did and continue to abuse you. WIN MY LOVE!!! I mean there must be some kind of quick-get-better-solution, and I have midterms this week, three of them, and assignments. I can't be sick. No.

End transmission.

The Teddy Bear... doo doo dooooooo

Wowzers, another blog! It’s almost like I’ve been stuck as school downloading music from the internet for free while scraping bits of the textbooks I’m not buying from the same magical source and saving them to my zip drive and have nothing better to do than type. Ahh, embrace the freeness and cheapness, this means I can afford more tempura tonight. Mmm.

Alright, so instead of just wasting your time by babbling about nothing, I have a point to prove, really. Let’s imagine that you are sitting on the bus and you look at the lad across from you who happens to be clutching a small teddy bear. It’s not a big deal, really. I guess that you could see it as a system of support, some sign of consistency in an ever changing world. Odds are he’s a latchkey kid on his way to daycare or some other form of after school care institution, so it’s probably nice for him to hang on to something of familiarity.

You adjust against the cheap vinyl seats. It’s no Cadillac, but if you were paying attention to my initial paragraph, it is a cheap form of transportation, besides; you look like a total bum if you’re cruising to campus in a CTS. You look to the side; out of the corner of your eye you spot another one, not a CTS, but a teddy bear. This time it’s not some young lad but a middle aged business man and he happens to be clutching it close to his face and whispering sweet nothings to it. You quickly turn to face the front of the bus, ignoring the man with issues behind you.

Not a big deal, you think. It makes sense, a city bus is bound to have some crazies on it, although there is something discerning about the whole event, you can’t put your finger on it, maybe it was the way he was dressed, or looked, he didn’t have that cat-eating-hobo appearance, no. He looked like he could be your neighbor, not the creepy one that watches you change sometimes, but the one you give a spare key to, or that you borrow sugar from. That’s the problem, he seemed, well, normal.

As you collect your thoughts you look around and see a teenager sitting next to you playing with her teddy. It’s quite elaborately decorated, definitely personalized, and for some bizarre reason, she doesn’t seem ashamed that you are blatantly staring at her as she plays with the thing. In fact, you can sense an air of pride around her. It’s somehow been transformed from an item of comfort to a status symbol.

Your stop comes up and you quickly disembark. Looking around the streets you begin to notice that these small bears are everywhere. It’s like you’re in kindergarten again and it’s Show and Tell Tuesday. Some people are proud of the things, maybe they’ve decorated them, they display them in prominent locations, and just like that time you brought My Little Pony/Ninja Turtles to school, some little jerk may steal the thing. Sure your name is written on it, but it doesn’t really hold up in the Court of the Playground.

The bears have moved from the realm of strange to an annoyance. You walk into class and while deep in thought while frantically scribbling down notes coming from you less than interesting monotone professor, some little blond thing jumps up from the back of the class and proclaims that she is awesome while swinging the bear around for all to see. You sneak a glance and try to make her head explode by mind powers alone. Unfortunately you are unsuccessful.

Later that day while running around at work, you decide to do what you get paid to do and try and help a customer. You eagerly approach, enthusiastically awaiting any challenge they may pose such as which candle produces the strongest scent, or why the SX 2.0 smells like that. “Um, hi. Can I-” you begin but are cut off with a scowl from the jerk-face of a customer who looks at you as if you walked into the middle of the maternity ward while a woman you don’t know is giving birth. It’s awkward and you don’t know why they would be so objective to help. Questions fog your mind; do you smell like a Neon? Maybe you weren’t smiling right, but there it is, clutched in their firm grasp, is a bear. You look disgruntled and trudge back to the counter where you’ll complain for another hour how everyone sucks but you and you need a peanut butter cookie. Now.

It’s home time and the car in front of you seems to be driving eratically. Maybe the individual is drunk? Slightly concerned you decide it would be best to hurry ahead of them and try to get on a different street. While passing you take a quick glance into their vehicle, hoping to catch a glimpse of their particular poison when, once again, you are faced with a bear. The driver is too busy playing with the little thing to hold onto the wheel. It’s a crucial component to driving a car, but the gentleman next to you believes that he is able to transcend this necessity and progress into some sort of driving Nirvana requiring him only to be sitting in the car and feel good about himself in order to successfully and safely arrive at his destination.










GET OFF YOUR CELLPHONE!!! FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS GOOD AND PURE YOU ARE NOT THAT IMPORTANT AND SOCIETY MANAGED TO SURVIVE FINE WITHOUT IT FOR SEVERAL MILLENIA. THE WORLD WILL NOT GO TO THE CRAPPER IF YOU DON’T CALL YOUR WIFE AND LET HER KNOW YOU’LL BE FIVE MINUTES LATE FOR SUPPER. AUGH!!! HANG UP!!! NOW!!!

Merry Christmas

Okey-dokey. You know I always wanted to say that, I mean I do say that, but not to a large-scale audience, and since passing the 2000 viewer mark, I’m feeling pretty awesome. Almost a whole other level of awesomeness… ooooh, maybe I hit nine. That would be pretty sweet.

Try using the ‘okey-dokey’ in everyday speech. It’s fairly all consuming and self-explanatory. For those of you who are too cool for school, and perhaps the term, ‘okey-dokey’, Keanu Reeves used it in the Matrix. No kidding, it’s the part where he’s about to jump off a building and trying to look all cool and calm and then out of nowhere comes… that’s right, the big OD.

So I haven’t blogged in a while, if I was in grade two with the neon clothing and ponytail on the side of my head, perhaps the pinkie painted on my right hand as some kind of membership into an elusive club based around prancing around pretending to be ponies or planning what to do when we’re old enough to babysit, I would make a big deal that I haven’t written anything in a year. Or at least since last year. Oh, you know what I’m talking about, the last day of classes before Christmas break you’d run around telling your friends that you’d see them next year like it was some kind of bizarre saying implying that you would go a minimum of three hundred and fifty six days without seeing them when in actuality it would be about two weeks… Maybe that was just me. Meh.

So instead of being all up to date and talking about the new year, I’m going to pretend that it’s December 23rd and I’m still upset over the political correctness of the whole situation. Now, step into my super Civic-shaped time machine with the flux capacitor….

Woooo….ooooo……okey-dokie….ooooh

Hey, exams are over. I still don’t know my marks, but then again, I haven’t checked them since last Christmas. Maybe they posted them. I’ll check later. This round wasn’t nearly as much fun as last term, as I’m sure that I made reference to some kind of osprey soap opera… yeah, that sounds about right, instead I was faced with a barrage of multiple choice exams. Eww. Where am I supposed to creatively express myself? You can only spell so many words using the letters A to E, and the patterns you can make are quite limited within the five square grid that you are allotted. But, thankfully, I did not exclaim anything I may regret at the top of my lungs while prancing about from desk top to desk top while trying to make a tutu from answer sheets. All in all it was a good term.

So I’m not upset about that, whatsoever really. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m what I consider to be fatally ill, (I’m too sick to work), or the fact that I’m on a lot of Tylenol, or maybe it’s a combination of the two. I think I made tea… or at least boiled water, I’m going to check on that, hold on…mmm, I did make tea. It is good. BUT I AM UPSET, or the somewhat unconscious-wishing-I-was-playing-video-games-instead equivalent, about the holidays.

Allow me to paint you a picture…

Little Sammy is outside playing in the snow, (s)he’s quite happy about the whole thing, as it’s not twenty below or anything stupid like that, but a balmy –5C and Sammy happens to be wearing a toque, scarf, and a muff (oh, my New Year’s resolution is to bring this back, it’s so happening). Anyway, snow people are built and it’s time for cocoa. The Sammy’s parents fill their child with sugary goodness and decide to go around the neighbor hood singing Holiday Carols. Later on they come to a nice warm fire and gather around to decorate the Holiday tree. Mrs. Sammy’s Mom finishes the wrapping of the Holiday gifts, and Mr. Sammy’s Dad puts out the Holiday cookies and milk for Santa next to little Sammy’s Holiday list. It’s a beautiful Holiday Eve as they all settle down to sleep, dreaming of the Holiday to come.

AUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

CHRISTMAS!!!! For the love of everything good and pure, you sound stupid when you use the word HOLIDAY, not smart or politically correct, but DUMB.

If I went to some Lion’s Club or place where old type people congregate, like the Road King, I wouldn’t go around complaining that Veteran’s day shouldn’t be called that because I’m not a Veteran and wasn’t around during their wars and I can’t very well celebrate it and make it something important to me unless it revolves around me. Think of Mother’s day, but instead of Mother’s day it became ‘I’m lacking a Y chromosome day and am capable of reproduction or in some way found myself a kid to raise as my own’ day, because, if you think about it, what about all the single Dads who do twice as much? Or maybe women incapable of having their own biological children? What about caretakers who aren’t officially the parents but simply have custody of the children? Isn’t this unfair to them?

Christmas means a lot more than just gifts and some lethargic man in a red suit to a lot of people. If I came to someone named Joe and told him or her that I didn’t like their name, I found it odd, and refused to call them that, I would be looked at like an idiot. It’s their name, they are likely to be proud of it or at least all right with their idea of it and don’t need someone (who it hardly matters to in the first place) telling them to change it.

So I’d like to wish you all a MERRY CHRISTMAS and a HAPPY NEW YEAR, despite the political correctness jail sentence I have brought upon myself.

Um...

WHAUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHhhhhhhhhhhhh AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH AHAAAAAAA AAAHHHHHHHHHhh grAwLLLLLLLL LLLLLLLAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAUUUU UUUuuuuuuugggggggggghH HHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHh AUUGH AUGH AUGH MEAHGHGHHHHHH WHyYYYYHIIIIIII I don't really need to know what F1 F0 does IIiiiiiiiiiiI AUGHHUIGHAH (random typing)hjasdfkhs afkjhadfjkhskjdfhjkhkjn bncbiuwoqpokjklnfam JKASDL JIOjsadk shaduiosypq hueh rioh dfjhkjzsdbfnwberiu zshdifoup ozsjdfmnzsdfjh cvuiypoi ewrhuisugh lksjhapr[iopu eolkjds f.lkn iuy89uuih hfuhy HJB as987890 Hjasdh hu3 ashdj asjkdfhaidu ocjh kj lorem ipsum gah I hate exams JHKDFASHOIUEWQNKNFKJ ASDJK HOWQENM MNCXZN NJQWIOERHWQJHDKSAN NSDJHIUWH HANSDJKHIbhjh DASHU Why do they tempt us with holidays?!>! hsyu798sdahjk nasdjk sdgf9asudy*(& Uhjk haqr897aywe e3 JASDFNHJHOQIWENcdbJAIPSD hudh laskjdhui DASNjkh wr iasudfc HJASDKH ASO UI hUAI DUIHA SLjgh UIASdyaiUlDH AI HSA UIASHYui

And in closing... [.]

Did I just say Pooper... yes, yes I did.

Looking back at my previous rants I have come to the realization that my writing is less creative, fluid, and even interesting. I hate the sciences. It appears that my work is going downhill, so I’m going to try to combat this. First, I have a thesis statement. These are the things that bump you essay writing skills to the next level. It’s the BAM of the literary world. I mean, just think about it, when you were in younger grades, there were no paragraphs, instead it was only a multitude of sentences that all began and ended the same way, ie) I like dogs, I like to pet dogs, I like to walk dogs, I like to kick dogs into the broad side of Aztecs filled with dogs, and I like to feed dogs ice cream. As exciting as the previous statement may have been I regret to inform you that your heightened state of arousal in my rantings is only temporary as this blog will have nothing to do about dogs, or Aztecs, instead my focus, and tie-it-all-together thesis statement is… society is going down the pooper.

This is, in fact, a rather large topic, so instead of focusing on society in general, let’s hit up the specifics right away, and with God as my witness, I’m going to try to continue this blog without delving into how Sherwood Park is everything that is wrong with society, and how no one can drive, especially Daddy H in a Beamer. Grrr.

Now today, boys and girls, we are going to talk about reading. It’s that thing that you are doing right now. It uses only one of your senses and leaves the rest to the control of your imagination, filling in the gaps created. While you’re reading this I might start talking about something I ate, um, I guess I should pick something good so that you can all benefit from my literary illusion, let’s see, maybe cookies, cookies are good, well, unless you’re a celiac, then replace ‘cookies’ with ‘rice cakes’, yummy. So after pouring the dough into little balls on a pan you slide it into the over and set the timer. Well before the little guys are ready to come out you can already smell the chocolate melting and the batter undergoing chemical transitions as the batter solidifies into chocolately goodness. Bet you can smell the little guys, maybe even taste them. There’s also the fact that as you read this, maybe you hear a voice inside you head that is reading it. Since we can’t immediately translate words into meaning, we need to hear them, so if I type REALLY BIG, that would be yelling, subsequently, if I could figure out how to type really small, you may interpret it as whispering, either way you can see how all of your senses are affected by the simple act of reading. My point, reading is good, while there is all that crap about helping you learn and grow, there are benefits, you may develop an imagination, some opinions, but at least it will waste some time.

So why is society going down the pooper and what does this have to do with cookies? I blame Chapters. Yes, your friendly neighborhood bookstore where you are free to sit down and read, have a coffee and a snack, or just curl up near a fireplace is now more evil then before since the unveiling of its latest slogan. Yes, now Chapters, ‘Imagine which books would make great movies’, specializes in selling out. Yipee. Just step into any Chapters and glance around, the first thing you walk into is either a Starbucks (is it just me or does the name seem stupid? Good coffee, bad name), or the magazine rack. If you’re lucky you may make it all the way to comic books, calendars, and best yet, talking books. Also front and center, ‘Movie books’, or books that have recently been made into movies. Not only that, but look around some more, they have shelves of non-book items, like body and bath products, cds, dvds, cards, games, toys, and cooking utensils. Yup, good luck trying to find War and Peace, they may be able to direct you to the movie form, though. Do they not realize that they now have a monopoly over every written thing and don’t need to cater to the illiterate? I really don’t know who they are trying to impress or entertain with wrapping paper, yoga mats, and toy dolls. Why, maybe, can’t they carry some kind of magical item with these things called ‘Chapters’ in it, never mind, such a creature doesn’t really exist. It may have at one time, but has long since been bastardized by abbreviated and illustrated versions that you can finish over a bus ride home.

I for one was impressed by the store, at one time. I even knew people who did, and do, work there. A monopolistic bookstore seemed like a good idea. In a world where every specialty item has an entire country of third world children fabricating it, you may as well do this with something that benefits society, rather then a store specializing in health foods and alternative remedies for man’s best friend. It was a place where ideas grew, imaginations could expand, and the world seemed to slow down for a while, now, well, if you didn’t get the point of this blog or didn’t bother to finish reading it, the movie version should be out this Spring.

Tales by Carly, now with 50% more plot

It’s time for another super-fun bedtime story, so grab your jammies, light the fireplace, put on a pot of tea and curl up for some crappy, I mean, good reading… Besides, it’s not like there’s anything good on TV.

Darkness had fallen over the whole kingdom, it had become a desert wasteland, a mere silhouette of its former self. It had once been a flourishing place, a place of happiness and abundant in brown liquids, some hot, cold, and diet. But now little of the glory of the Plant remained. The Plant was ruled by a gracious Queen, bringer of all things caffeine, she was familiar with the land’s inhabitants and would know whether to bring a cheese toast or bowl of soup, a coffee or a BLT, chicken fingers or the girliest drink on the menu. The people loved her, and knew that she was good. She was always willing to bestow a tale of adventure on the usual inhabitants, filling their minds with wonder and giving them new hope to face what seemed like an unending sentence at school. Yes, it was a beautiful place that people would gather from all over the land, spin tales, sit in each other’s company, and throw make-shift SpongeBob Square Pants parties for each other.

After the Great War the land was now empty, no longer filled with the happiness and excitement that once befell the dark and dankness within. The Great War had brought an end to everything good, and at the heart of the war lay selfishness and greed of all involved, as most wars do.

Long before the establishment of the Plant there was a magical amulet. This amulet, as described by the adjective in the previous sentence, held magic powers, in particular, when joined, it would bring peace and prosperity to the Plant and all of those who sought comfort with it’s brick cladden walls. This amulet was created in the heart of Good Mount Invisible, and due to the origins, the amulet itself was invisible and resided deep in the hearts of two special girls. Both were successful and quite beautiful, they were intelligent and cunning, but at times were suspect to bouts of self-pity, selfishness, and the forces of pig-headedness, as most are. The amulet halves lay in quiet mystery for many years, unknowing of the other half just like it or the happiness that would arise from the reunion it would one day be part of.

They two maidens progressed through their lives, making a difference to those who loved them, and gained many friends over the years. They were loved by all, or at least most, and those that didn’t love them were the jerk-faced people who didn’t really count anyway. They would become pillars of social status, organizing events and gathering the people who only wanted to hang out with them. One foretold day the two girls met and would end up as friends. They did their best to help the other out, they would help the other obtain a job and would include the other in their enchanted social circle. This was good for all of the peasants of the kingdom of Plant. They were all happy together and did many stupid things that would become folklore and inside jokes for years to comes, known only to themselves and more importantly would often entirely lack humor for others who would be exposed to such shenanigans (wow, I spelt that right on my first try, there were no red squiggly lines or stupid paper clips popping up or anything). But all in all it was a prosperous and happy time, little did they know the kingdom was about to fall under siege to the green-eyed monster (not to be confused with the beautiful Princess of the kingdom who coincidently also had green eyes), that would be bent on destroying the happiness and peace of the Kingdom to the demise of all within.

The evil (not the good, funny evil, but the kind that doesn’t benefit me), monster crept into the hearts of the two girls. They began to see the little things in the other, things that weren’t that big a problem, but when stretched, bit by bit, turned into something much larger. Their issues with the other grew and grew and instead of taking calm and relaxed approach to the whole thing by just talking to the other, the monster began to whisper ideas to them, ideas that people would pay more attention to them if they spread ideas. They would be popular with their friends and be happier if they made the other seem like a monster, so the two did. This made the monster happy and it grew in size. They never talked to the other about their problems, but just yelled and made claims that were exaggerated. This made the monster grow even more. They also never forgave, they would only think about themselves first and not the others that they were hurting. This made the monster grow so big that it started to spread to the others of the Plant. The monster would stir in others, sometimes it would turn them against friends, made them tattle on one of the girls, or even keep them from talking to each other. Because of how much anger the monster was being fed it grew even more. It grew so big and for so long that people began to forget that there was a problem and thought that this was the way it always was in the kingdom, and most certainly the way it would always be. Problems kept springing up until all that was left was the monster, casting a shadow over all that had once been light and good. People stopped caring about the group or what they once had, they just accepted things as they were, best friends were split up, people stopped talking, and no one came to the Plant.

A beautiful and smart Princess, also the fastest driver in the land, became very sad. She missed all of her friends, but fell trap to the monster, and stopped caring about the Great War and didn’t bother to try to fix it. After spending many nights alone in her tall tower on the top of the tallest hill in the County, she decided that she had to do something. A cursed day was fast approaching and she knew that only evil befell that day. She thought that maybe if she could make things better, everything would turn out good and she could have a non-birthday party with all of her friends, together, and happy. The Princess had seen much misfortune and knew the dangers of losing someone. There were many things that you would regret in life, but losing friends and family, especially for your own dumb reasons, was something you didn’t have to regret, but would be missed most of all. It was something simple, something that could be fixed, but more often then not, people wouldn’t. She knew that as people got older, they became more susceptible to the monster, and where most kindergarten fights could be solved over the period of a recess, grown-up fights could last forever. She thought about how many people would be leaving the Plant soon to move to lands far away, and how they wouldn’t be able to see each other much longer anyways, and just hoped that somehow everyone could have a happy Christmas together, as it could be the last one they all spent together, or met for coffee one more time, because they would all move on to new kingdoms and places of coffee and gossip. The Princess was sad about all of this, mostly because she felt that she didn’t do anything, but was losing her bestest friends because of the Great War. She felt alone and sad, and knew that she may be leaving in a few months and hoped that maybe everyone could get along, if only for her sake.

The two girls complained that they were sick when seeing the other, or were just afraid of being yelled at, or didn’t want to put up with anything that might hinder their own success, but the Princess felt the same way, yet realized that there are some things more important then only thinking of yourself. This is one of the reasons the Princess decided to write a story about all of her friends. She knew that if she did this, many of them may be really angry at her, but deep down she would always care about them, and knew that it was just the monster that had taken over. If nothing else, she knew she would at least have the memories of all the happy times they had spent together, because even now it seemed like memories were all that she had.

One night she ran to her balcony and searched the skies for the first rising star. Actually it wasn’t so much night, as three in the afternoon due to the fact that she lived in a northern climate and the sun set way to early. But she searched and found the first star that rose and made a birthday/star light, star bright wish, that maybe, as a present, everyone would just get along. They didn’t have to be the best friends that they once were, or talk to each other any other time, but maybe, like two divorced parents put up with each other for the sake of the forgotten child, would just get along.

This story doesn’t end, not yet, that part hasn’t been written yet, and I don’t think that I can, and it doesn’t have a moral unless you are willing to accept it, and learn from your own life, not some stupid blog I rant in when I’m upset. Morals are what come when the covers are closed and the book is finished, they are ongoing, affect your life, and change who you are, not something in script-print and bold letters following on of Aesop’s tales. Most importantly this story isn’t just for two people, it’s for everyone, least of all the amulet bearers. They might spread the ideas, but it’s up to everyone else to ignore it, or as we all seem to have done, been entwined and caught up in the drama, making it much deeper giving everyone a reason to carry on with this stupid feud. While I hate to write something deep and just quote the Simpsons, if you just stop looking, it will go away. I’m not saying that ignoring the problem is the answer, but paying more attention is exactly what the monster needs to keep spreading and will make you forget that we were a tight knit group who all got along, much in disagreement of our demographic group. Personally I want to be selfish for once, I want things to go back to how they were, I feel physically sick trying to balance a schedule so that the two groups never coincide, or am miserable thinking that I may have lost some people that mean a lot to me, aside from the occasional pity coffee. If you don’t agree with me, or are too caught up and only find yourself upset by what I’ve said, fine. I’m not going to quote any song lyrics, and I certainly won’t cut you out of my life, I just want things to go back to how they were. I want my friends, and my kingdom, and us to al have a great Christmas break together. I want to get invited out on days I actually can make it, and not just sit around and wait for the phone call that will never come or the email I’ve stopped expecting outside of a courtesy measure. Seeing as how I’m already a social outcast with plenty of other groups to hang out with, don’t expect me to hold my breath, but I still have honest hope for all of us. Don’t let this be something you regret, believe me, life is to short for crap like this.