Adrasteia the Great...

~ A question we should all ask ourselves is: What would be the first thing I'd do if my house exploded?
Aiden had not considered that event and so was at something of a loss. It struck him that, despite a house being suddenly obliterated in it's midst, the delicate gear work of the neighborhood seemed to continue operating as usual.
Aiden wondered if he was, in fact, delusional. If his house was, in fact, still whole and unharmed. If he was, in fact, sitting on the grass beside a holly bush in front of a completely normal house.
No. He disregarded that theory. Aiden's mind wouldn't dare cop out on him and his, up to this point, fairly well-groomed life.
His house had really gone without much of a fight. Not a lot of noise or scattering of debris. The wreckage was fairly well contained. No flames. Not even a bit of dramatic spouting water. It had just exploded.
Aiden figured that he should call the insurance at some point. He knew that after the long and arduous investigation the explosion would be written off as an "act of God". What else could they call it?
There really is no place to hide when the universe is out to get you.
Aiden's cat came strolling around the corner of his wreckage and toward him across his neatly trimmed lawn. She did not look surprised either. After 5 years with Aiden maybe she'd gotten used to inexplicable events. Or maybe she was just acting like a cat.
Her name was Adrasteia after the nymph who raised Zeus from a babe. Aiden had called her this with a touch of irony. It means "she whom none escapes". Nothing like a cat to protect you from the universe. Aiden looked under the holly bush at his protector. She was nonchalantly chowing down on a twitching grasshopper.
No wonder she'd thrown up on his carpet. ~
~ S'all me baby

And then things got worse...

~ Aiden hit the steering wheel with the flat of his hand (as if the car needed to be punished) and drove the thorn he'd picked up rescuing his Tribune deeper into his palm. Aiden had always hated blackberries.
He clambered out of his car and stood on the driveway glaring at the world. He'd call Linda. Linda might be able to pick him up on her way in. He bristled at the thought of asking back-stabbing Linda for a favor. It might take a bribe or two, but he had to get to work somehow.
Aiden pulled out his cell phone and stalked over to the big holly bush in his front yard. The only place, he'd discovered long ago, he could get service on his property.
Aiden kicked leaves impatiently while Linda's phone rang.
And then his house exploded.
Aiden was not shocked by this. This would be the morning his house exploded. It occurred to him that his cat should feel very grateful that he'd exiled her outside after she'd thrown up in his living room.
Linda picked up.
"Hello...Hello?"
"You know what, never mind." Aiden hung up.
He sat down by his holly bush and looked at the mass of splintered wood and unidentifiable refuse that used to be his house. He had to admit, the universe had definitely won this round. ~
~ I made this!

Mama said there'd be days like this...

~ Aiden woke up with a splitting headache.
And then things got worse.
This would be the morning his cat threw up on the carpet.
This would be the morning his paper was flung deep into the wild blackberry thicket his neighbor so humorously called "a hedge".
This would be the morning he locked himself out of the front door and almost had a coronary before discovering that he'd left the back door open.
This would be the morning he was out of coffee.
Aiden wanted the universe to grind to an agonizing halt.
It didn't.
He gulped down a glass of cran-cherry juice with his (naturally!) burnt toast all the while cramming folders into his briefcase. With all the time he'd spent excavating his newspaper and scouring the kitchen for a few java beans he was already behind schedule.
Where are the keys!? Where are the blasted- Oh, there they are.
Aiden finally made it to his car, only slightly the worse for wear, and buckled up. He turned the key. He was rewarded with a sickeningly dead grinding noise. Aiden looked at the dash.
Headlamps: On
Aiden cursed the universe creatively in several languages... ~
~From Renee's world. (Her mama never said there'd be days like this...)

Nothing like a new pastime...

...to make you feel alive!

So I've taken up card manipulation, also called trick shuffling, for a new hobby. It's delightful.
I know several tricks by now and mainly I think I need to work on my flexibility and consistency. There are instances when I'll do the scissor cut flawlessly several times in a row and other times that I drop half the deck each try I give it.
I did get a deck of bridge cards which are slightly narrower then your normal poker cards to help me "work up" to some of the moves. Let me tell ya, your hands can be sore after practicing this stuff for a while.
I would like to learn a cool ace production move before I see Josh (cause you know that I'm going to casually show off my moves when we sit down for a game of poker or blackjack) but I doubt that I have time for that.
Speaking of blackjack, funny thing, I brought my cards with me to practice with before both of my exams today.
First exam: I met Stuey outside and we ended up playing blackjack on the back of a book I had with me (Hilariously entitled "To Play The Fool"), and ultimately drawing several innocent strangers into the action.
Second exam: Sitting there practicing the fan and scissor cut and the feller next to me ends up talking to me and saying "We've got five minutes til we start, count me in." So I deal him a hand (is it called a hand in blackjack?) I think the house won the majority of those rounds. To bad we weren't actually betting.
Overall I found it quite amusing.

So I've given up the series idea. You all know that I moved Saturday and most of you know what went down Friday. Those of you who don't can hear it from me personally on break. That way you can watch my lips move too!

For Peace: "It's quite quiet out today. Quit shushing me Quinn and take the quill!"

~ "Do you go to sleep at night and wake up in the morning? Then you need to buy our product!" ~
~ Cowboy

When the going gets tough...

...the smart call in the dem team.

Oh boy do I have a lot to talk about! I think it may be time for another series. Let's start with yesterday and work our way back to Friday shall we?

Sunday I went on a date. A date with my Schloozy Poo. Schloozy Poo is also known as Kara.
So Kara and I went to a concert that the Purdue Symphony Orchestra was putting on over in the beautiful Long Center Theater in Lafayette. It was fantastic!
They played Tchaikowsky's Fifth Symphony, Bach's Concerto for Two Violins and a piece called Samurai by Michael Schelle.
I believe that the last was my favorite. Like good writing, I admire music that inspires emotion and Samurai definitely did that. Something I found interesting was the last movement. Only after it was over did I read in the program that it was called "Prayer with Thunder" which is exactly what I was thinking of as it was played. We had great seats just a couple rows from the stage. There were times that I more felt the music then heard it. The mental images that it conjured were utterly incredible!
I did find myself irritatingly distracted by thinking though. And I found that closing my eyes and concentrating hard on the music and feeling the waves of vibrations washing off the stage was quite hypnotic.

It was wonderful and at the end of the day I got to cross something off my TTDBID (Things To Do Before I Die) list. I do believe that I will be going to another one or two next semester if at all possible.

~ "The passage smelled rather like perfume and Cheerios." She added absently... ~

I'm a mover and a shaker...

...well a mover at least...and if I had a money tree I'd probably try giving it a rattle or two...but anyway! I'm a mover. Today I am moving to my new, fresh, single, solitary, haven of rest from the universe, sanctuary of peace and solace, and totally my own room. Peace has kindly offered to come give me a helping hand with boxes and fridge and such. Right thoughty of him really, right thoughty. I've got all the junk that I'm going to pack packed and am prepared to move two flights down and a wing to the east. This change's official name is The Migration. Or the TM if you prefer.
This in mind I may not be updating for a bit. As I understand it my ResNet connection (aaahhhh, cable, I love it!) may not be up for a couple of days in the new digs. Those that I email will still get responded to for there is always a computer lab. Those I AIM with may not have as much luck (it may be a blessing, for you I mean, it all depends on how you look at it.) That and the fact that it is the weekend before finals week.
On that note I shall just say that last night we had an excellent End-of-All-Time-Until-Next-Semester show! It was a blast and it ended with 5 wet men on stage. More on that later.
That and yesterday was Benji's birthday. Benji, you'll always be a birthday princess to me!
I also need to say: Cowboy, Cowboy, Cowboy, Cowboy, Cowboy, Cowboy, Cowboy otherwise I think the mafia was going to come and break my knee caps or whack me or something. And I want to keep getting Cowboy's blogger love.
And that folks will be my very last post from this room!
Oh and if you are a person that has my old and wants my new phone number then either email me, AIM me when I'm back, or (if you're reeeeaaaaly important ;) I'll try to call you with it before you get the chance.

"Hey, get Tripod's attention for me will you?" ~Cowboy
"Tripod!" ~Peace
"Tripod!" ~Kamikaze
"Tripod!" ~Brian
"TRIPOD!!" ~Kamikaze
"Star Wars." ~SOG
"What?" ~Tripod

Inconsequential in the long run...

~ "Jared slipped into the pool and lay floating and, for all intents and purposes, not thinking about anything. His back ached and his leg throbbed. Therapy. Wasn't therapy supposed to make you feel better?
After a long time ever so gradually his pain subsided back into edgy numbness. He glided out towards the middle of the pool, slipping through the water with a slow, even backstroke. The pool was empty but for him, the gym mostly dark. With his ears beneath the water he was closed off from the world. Suspended in his own universe. A sharp twinge shooting up his leg made him gasp and stiffen. 'Don't kick, just don't kick!'
"...Trying to kick while you're swimming is a good way to rebuild muscle and increase your range of motion Jared."
"Doc, swimming is my therapy for your therapy. I won't kick. It hurts..."
He gave another tiny experimental kick. Well, maybe it wasn't to very bad...If he kept his foot straight...And limited motion in his thigh.
He reached the far end and turned to go back the other way. He was dreaming lazily of what he'd have for dinner when a cheerful voice from the edge of his universe brought him around.
"Great job Jare! You're trying to kick like Dr. Cooper said!"
Jared stopped swimming and twisted to see Sam standing by the pool in khakis and a green sweater with an insufferably encouraging look on his face.
"I was not kicking!", Jared immediately, illogically, and loudly denied. And, in order to hopefully keep Sam from restating what he knew to be true, followed it up with, "And don't call me Jare!"
Sam looked at him like he was crazy (yeah well maybe he was!) and finally seemed to decide that, since he had no weapon to hand, Jared could keep his harmless delusion for now. He sat down by the ladder, pulled off his shoes and dangled his feet in the cool water.
Jared figured that he could either force Sam to tell him what was up now or he could ignore Sam and finish his swim and wait for him to give in first. He chose the latter.
He took his time, back and forth, for a good half hour, all the while studiously not looking in Sam's direction. As much as he was loathe to admit it he finally got tired and made for dry land. It had been a longer swim then he was used to.
And there Sam still sat. He had to give the man credit; patience is, after all, a virtue.
Jared hauled himself out and sat on the edge next to his friend and partner, casually studying the gym, the pool, his dead leg and dripping nonchalantly.
"Wanna get something to eat?", Sam asked his fingernail.
"Yeah sure." Jared replied to the towel.
An hour later they were sprawled on Jared's couch, 10 Chinese take-out boxes and four beers spread out on the coffee table between them and a Giants game on TV.
Jared watched out of the corner of his eye as Sam busily poked holes in an empty carton with a chopstick. He finally snatched the adulterated carton from Sam's fingers, crushed it between his hands and threw it across the room.
"Ok, what is it?", he demanded.
"What's what?", asked Sam who had immediately transitioned to trying to spin the chopstick across his knuckles.
"What's going on? I know you're waiting to tell me something."
"Good grief Jared, anybody would think that we're some old married couple or something."
"They can think whatever they want, won't bother me." Jared stared Sam down, intent on getting his answer.
"Ok, so they offered me a run in Carolina...I took it."
Jared just gazed passively at Sam for a minute. He was suddenly very aware of his numb leg and Sam suddenly got very absorbed in his twirling chopstick.
Jared shook himself. "Ok...Congratulations. So why ya' telling me?"
Blast it all! His voice sounded thick even to himself!" ~
~It's mine, all mine.

It's easier the 157th time...

~ "The bed creaked annoyingly as Jared shifted positions once again, punching his pillow with perhaps a bit more zealotry then was necessary. He had to sleep! Why couldn't he sleep? He had half a mind to abandon the effort altogether. Just get up and do something. But taking that road would mean no chance of sleep at all. If he stayed in bed then perhaps he'd drift off. Sooner or later. Maybe.
Again he tried turning over, an almost feverish motion. He lay on his stomach for what seemed a very long time. He jiggled his foot. He forced himself to stop jiggling his foot.
Jared was accustomed to reviewing his day in his mind as he lay waiting for sleep but this was ridiculous! It just wouldn't quit.
He tried closing his eyes again, experimentally. No, still no overcoming fatigue, no mindless drifting.
Blast it all! Another oh-so-restful night without sleep." ~
~ It's me again, in more ways then one...

Thus Spoke Zarathustra*...

~ "When Jared stepped out of the darkness of the alleyway and up to the Council door he was a different person.
Sam thought that he'd seen all of Jared's many and highly varied moods (or were they personalities?) but this focused and completely closed face was a new one. Unbidden, the mental image of a much younger Jared, the same look in his eye, striding across the flight deck of an aircraft carrier came to mind.
Why did that look seem so familiar? Oh yes. Sam had seen it on the face of an old friend. They had been in the marines together. Gone to and come back from war together. When their time in service was up Adrian had gone on immediately to join a SWAT team while Sam had drifted aimlessly. Unwittingly giving himself over to his identification with, and subsequent loss of, the marine core.
Sam had watched Adrian preparing for a bust with his team once. Adrian, the entire team actually, had that same all-consuming, almost fanatical focus in their eyes.
There was no room for distraction here. No mercy for mistakes.
Jared silently withdrew his picks from the lock. The latch clicked and the door opened smoothly under his hand.
On to stage two." ~
~I made this!

FASoFGE Countdown: 23 hours 59 minutes

*Zarathustra was a character (also a Persian prophet) used by Friedrich Nietzsche in some of his philosophical writings, one of which bears the name "Thus Spoke Zarathustra".
You may be wondering why I chose that for the title of this blog post. No reason really, other then it being on my mind at the time.
You could, in fact, give this mini-scene some existential overtones if you wanted. I wouldn't. But you might.

I just wanted to say...

...I don't have much to say....very tired...wanted to write regardless. Yeah I'm strange like that.
Well come on. Can you honestly tell me that you have never been caught in a bit of a creative vortex? Where you long to make or write or draw something and you can't (or perhaps won't) rest til you do?
Happens to me relatively often. And hey, I just realized! End of the semester! Surely you know what that means. More time to think, more time to write!
In other news, keep your fingers crossed that I get a little letter in my box this Friday. That would mean that I could move to my new room this weekend. Which would be wickedly awesome. I don't work this weekend, I could get settled in before finals so there's no huge rush during those last few days, blah blah blah, so on and so forth. You get the idea.
Anyway, I'm tired. I'm going to bed.

FASoFGE Countdown: 1 day 18 hours 48 minutes

Featured blog of the day: http://drewcifer3939.blogspot.com/ Published by friend and fellow Fool, Peace. Check it out. Tis worth you time!

And finally, the moral of the story children:
Drewcifer3939: IF I WERE THE KING OF THE WORLD
Drewcifer3939: Duh duh dut
Drewcifer3939: TELL YOU WHAT I'D DO!
Drewcifer3939: Duh duh dut
Drewcifer3939: Throw away the cars and the bars and the wars and I'd make sweet love to you. I say I'd make sweet love to you.
Drewcifer3939: Singing Jooooooy to the world
Drewcifer3939: Aaaaaaaall boys and girls
Drewcifer3939: Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea
Drewcifer3939: Joy to you and me.

Size doesn't matter...

Today I found the journal that my mom is going to give me for Christmas. (Yes I shop for my own gifts.)
A journal is a very personal thing and I take my writing paraphernalia very seriously. It has to feel right. In my opinion when you pick up a journal it should inspire you. It should make you want to write in it. You should lust after it essentially. And covet it as well.
With that in mind you can certainly see why a body such as myself would feel the need to pick out their own journal.
First of all, it should fall on your eye as something, I dunno, elegant. Majestic mayhaps.
Secondly, it should feel right when you pick it up. This could include size, cover texture, weight, simple make and model, etc.
Thirdly, I'm a stickler for good binding. It should be tight enough that you know it won't fall apart on you and yet loose enough that it can easily fall open to the page you wish to write on.
And (I believe that this is my last point) the pages themselves have to be right. Perhaps you like unlined pages. Perhaps you like your pages lined but widely lined. I prefer narrower lines myself. Also pages that have a touch of elegance, maybe a scroll in the bottom corner. Just not plain, usually. I have seen plain that I liked as well though.
In short it should just call to you. I'm sure I'm not the only person in the world that feels a connection with blank books...
So anyway, I spent at least 45 minutes, probably more, in Barnes & Noble today looking at (and picking up and turning over and flipping the pages of) their extremely satisfactory and excellently diverse selection of journals. And I found it. At first I disregarded it. Though it felt right it looked rather small compared to some, and had unlined pages.
I looked at others. For a long time. I had the choice narrowed down to two...moment of suspense...and then I put both of them back. Neither was perfect. Maybe today wasn't the day I'd find my perfectly complementary journal. Oh well, perhaps better luck later. I went to leave. Passed by the shelf that held this one just once more. Paused. Took it off the very bottom rack. Looked at it again.
It felt right. Soft, dark brown leather with a simple design of scrolling embroidery out of tan thread on the cover, a long tie of braided red, green, yellow, black and white threads complete a tiny splash of color, rough grain pages with sewn binding. It nestles gently in my palm...I write straight enough...Size doesn't matter...

And much havoc was wreaked...

...in a surprisingly short amount of time!

So as anybody who's reading this no doubt knows yesterday was my first time ever hosting an SoF practice.
I was right. I was quite nervous before hand. Felt like bowing out actually. Didn't. But felt like it. I personally didn't think I did very good, but I was assured from several fronts that it was fine. I'd imagine that it's rather like speech class. I always thought my presentations went horrible, and yet I got an A!
I have to say, maybe it's just cause this was my first time, but watching the practice is more fun then hosting it. Perhaps I should hold off judgment until I actually host again. Perhaps I'd like it better the second time round. I know I'd definitely do a couple of things differently. But anyway.
Spanke was able to come and who do ya think popped in during Chain Murder? Wes! Great to see both of them again!
But regardless of what else happened, it was a good practice cause I got to wear my cowboy hat!

In other news, the FASoFGE is drawing nigh! As I referenced before! I'm excited! As I referenced before!

FASoFGE Countdown: 3 days 21 hours 3 minutes

***Giving Peace a hug*** ~Kamikaze
"Awww, I'm in a happy place." ~Peace
"Kama Kazi meet Kama Sutra." ~Benji

Hark, the call to arms...

As some of you may know, tomorrow I will be hosting my first ever SoF practice. I'm excited. And nervous. This much excited and this much nervous. I'll probably be this much nervous by about 4:00 tomorrow.
Being the stickler for preparedness that I am (though I was never a boy scout I do try to help the occasional old lady across the street regardless) I've got my games list all worked out. We'll be doing the first ever (audience present) performance of Inner Voices! Every time we've practiced it it's gone fantastically well so I can't wait to see how the audience reacts to it.

In other news, tension mounts as the First Annual (I hope :) Ship of Fools Gift Exchange (or FASoFGE) draws near. The Rex claims to have figured out pretty much who drew who's name, with the exception of a couple, including mine. Seeing the group of people that they're coming from, both incredibly creative, smart, funny and extremely diverse in their interests, I would expect the gift choices to be very interesting at the least!

FASoFGE Countdown: 5 days 22 hours 49 minutes

And you thought Christmas was a big deal.

We now return you to...

...your regularly scheduled programming.

Some of you may know that at times I am a Reluctant Insomniac. Reluctant to the extent that, unlike Benji, I love my sleep. With the passion of an addict. More importantly I love feeling rested.

Thus when I can't sleep I usually revert to either reading or writing. Often the writing involves this blog. Goodness knows you all have played victim to many an ill-written post spawned from my sleep deprived mind.

That having been said, it was a bit of an irritation when on the Tuesday of Thanksgiving break I found myself lying there unable to shut off my mind. And no computer...
But alas, being the kind of person I am (undaunted by sitting outside at 1 in the morning in my nightgown), I put on shoes, two coats, grabbed the bedspread and headed out-of-doors.
Let me tell you, it was an absolutely gorgeous night. Cold, but gorgeous. Funny how easy it is to forget some things. After living my entire life in that same place it was still something of a surprise to see just how many stars were visible. And as far as visibility goes, it was pretty good, but not remarkable by any stretch. Here you can see like 4 stars...on a good night.
I stayed out for quite some time, laying on the trunk of my car (that's actually quite comfortable for stargazing.) Even saw a couple of tiny, leftover Leonid meteors. Orion rising in the east, the Big Dipper setting in the north.

Some people say that they look at the sky and feel tiny or insignificant. I don't. I don't think it's ever made me feel that way. It's spectacular and amazing and enormous and impossible to wrap your mind around yes, but it's still packed full of possibilities and mysteries and new things and, as cliched as this sounds, untouched frontiers waiting to be explored.

To wrap things up, I really don't think that there is any better time or place to reconcile yourself with whatever might be consuming your mind then when you're completely hidden in darkness, looking out over the whole of the universe.
It's glorious, that's what it is.

Did you know the first...

...reader of this post will mark the 1000 hit on my blog? Yup. They will.
I have a Thanksgiving Break Report Post in the making, but for this pseudo anniversary or whatever the heck you'd call it I think I'd like something else. A bit of writing mayhaps? I really don' t have much in the making, but I'll give you the first thing that came to hand. Except for the very first line I don't think it's all that great, but it's what I have so here it is.

~ "Don't just stand there goggling at me like some giant stupid fish! What is it?" Snarled Jared at the young sergeant.
"Sir, the reports you asked for are ready sir."
Asked for was certainly putting a nice spin on it.
Jared stared at the kid for a minute. "Well then can you give them to me already?"
"Oh! Yes sir, I'm sorry sir." Stammered the boy, simultaneously turning a lovely shade of pink and finally remembering to extend his arm.
"Thank you!", snapped Jared, snatching the file from the lad's hand. "That will be all."
As the sergeant left the room at a pace that was meant to look business like, but actually appeared more like a panicked escape, Sam heard Jared muttering something about "darn kids" and "just out of ROTC". ~

Everyone has their secrets I suppose...

So I was talking to a friend the other day about keeping a journal. Well actually it started with the discussion of journals in general. As he put it, and as I have always felt, there's something about a nice journal that is just majestic. There's so much potential there. The art of the written word, and I don't just mean the finished product of a book or a letter, I mean writing, the written language, is purely elegant. Naturally it's use in the conveyance of ideas is impressive, but I've always found the act of writing somehow intriguing.
But that's not really what I meant to talk about tonight. I was going to talk about my own peculiar journal keeping enigmas.
Traditionally my journals contain a very high percentage of random scenes. I find the potential of a good journal and a well-writing pen inspiring.
They also have a lot of dreams recorded in them as well though. I'm not a believer of dream interpretation, but mine are impressively strange at times and also serve as inspiration (even direct transcription a couple of times) for scenes or stories.
And then there's the personal stuff. Things I want to remember forever, and things that I'm thinking or feeling that I just want to write down. This blog also serves that purpose, but I'd say that my journal entries are somewhat darker. That is the place for things that I don't necessarily want the rest of the world to be reading (not just yet at any rate).
Today I surpassed even those bounds. I wrote something in it this morning, concerning a dream I had last night. Tonight when I couldn't sleep I picked up the journal to try and write for a while.
I felt as if that previous entry was adulterating the pages.
Simple act to take it out, tear it up and throw it away right? No. There was a reason I wrote it in there. The same reason I'm writing about it here. To talk about it. And possibly even to have a record of it. I did tear it out. But I folded it up and sealed it in an envelope. I'll probably throw it way, or burn it. I don't know.
I just thought it was funny that there are some things that I talk about openly which jive with the things that I write about on this blog, which slightly jive with the things that I write in my journal. And then there are the things that I don't even want on the pages of that.
I don't know that I will even post this entry. If I do, know that it is unedited and that I did it on a whim. For now I'm just going to save it.
Everyone has their secrets I suppose...

This round's on me...

Nearly 2 AM: Coming down off the high of a great show followed by a rousing round of 1000 Blank White Cards. Being serenaded by Sinatras' "Somethin' Stupid". As the adrenalin wash wears off I'm left with a deliciously sleepy feeling, though I very much doubt that I could go to sleep just yet.

Twas a good night, a very good night. Even though my arm feels about 15 pounds heavier. Funny thing that. Gather round, I'll tell ya the story.

So one of the 10^3 BWC cards had everyone raise an arm, elbow locked. Whoever was the last to drop their arm won something...I think. I can't remember now. I was actually pleased and a bit surprised about how long I was sticking it out. And that's when Cowboy made his mistake, saying something along the lines of, "I want to quit but I can't lose to a girl!". Some of you may know that I do have a competitive streak, and I took that as a definite challenge. A few minutes later that card was rendered null and void by a different one, but Benji, Cowboy and myself kept it up cause we're crazy like that. I don't know how long we stayed like that but it was a long long time.
The point where my biceps and triceps were trembling uncontrollably had come and gone. Eventually apparently Cowboy decided that his arm was more important then his pride and dropped out. It was down to me and Benji. I really had no qualms about losing to Benji, no standing challenge there, but I decided to go for the win.
I think my favorite part of the deal was all the people asking at various stages, "Isn't your arm tired?" or "How can your arm not be tired?". Let me tell you. Tired is not the word.
In the end I lasted out Benji as well. At that point the game was ending. We did make some jokes about my driving a few people home with my arm out the window, but that turned out to be unnecessary.
So now, even though I do still have full range of motion, my shoulder/upper arm does feel strange. Heavy and dead as well as very slightly achey and very aware of the fact that there is blood flowing there. Tis interesting to say the least.
I condone it. I never thought I'd do good in a competition like that because I don't like pain very much, but you might just surprise yourself.
I do wish now that I had thought to time it...But alas, such is life.

The moral of the story children, talent may get you far, but sheer stupidity/stubbornness can do a lot as well!

Until next time, when hopefully I will be slightly more awake and have a better story to tell,
~Kamikaze, signing off.

The past has shown...

...that most of my completely pointless updates are reserved for nights when I can't sleep.
I'm shaking things up this evening! The is a completely pointless post, but not because I can't sleep. Heavens no, I am in fact quite tired. But I'm writing this because I want to write something now, and come hell or high water I'm going to!
So today I stumbled across a swell mechanical pencil. Literally. I was walking to CGT lab this morning in the poring rain and went to step up on a curb and sent this pencil skittering across the pavement. In that kind of situation I'm never really sure what to do. I mean, the chances of the owner knowing where to look and actually finding it are extremely slim (had I left it there). In this case (seeing as how it was a pencil and not, oh say, a child) I kept it.
The funny thing is that I had it out in CGT, having told the story to Brian, and our TA comes around to grade our CAD assignments. I'm sitting there placidly listening to something he had to say about F-16's and radar and I suddenly come to the realization that (to my horror) I am about to place the end of the pencil (yes that's right folks, the pencil I found on the curb) into my mouth, as is my wont with my own collection of fine writing utensils.
You're all hearing it right? "Don't put that in your mouth! You don't know where it's been!"

In other news, on Wednesday the SoF all drew names for our Hidden Hanukkah Handout Happening (like Secret Santa, but Jewish). I can't say who I drew, but I will say that I already have his (ok, so you know it's not Kyle) present on the way and I think he'll be very happy with it. At least I hope so. And I'm pretty certain.
I'm also going to be hosting my first Friday practice on the 1st of December! At least as far as I know I will. Now we'll get to see just how much I've learned about timing and show planning!

To cauterize: Some quotes from our new game Inner Voices.

Attempt: First ever (and a resounding success might I add!)
Situation: Job interview

Ryan: "Do you have any salary demands?"
Benji's inner voice (Tripod): "Oh, I could make some demands!"
Ryan's inner voice (Stu): "I think you're de-mand."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
So I realize that I'm not there yet, but I kinda like this moving towards being a cewebrity thing I've got goin' on. Check this out: http://web.mac.com/agentpi/iWeb/Site/B*Log(Jamie)/082BBDC3-3485-4B4D-B329-11F7FCE15ECE.html
This particular website is written and published by Comrade Jamie.

Breaker, breaker, seven one niner alpha november...

I found this picture on the internet. Though I don't always find the fantasy genre to my taste, I thought it rather intriguing.
It's called "Night Angel" by fromtheshadowsart. A link can be found to this picture on the site www.fromtheshadows.com. Do you see the earth in the background? Isn't that neat?

Brings to mind the passage:

"Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light;
I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night."

From Sarah Williams: "Old Astronomer to His Pupil"

Long awaited...

~ "You may regret that one of these days!"
"I may regret a lot of things when the time comes, but that time hasn't come- Get back!" Jared hissed suddenly, throwing his arm across Sam's chest and veritably flinging him back against the wall.
Two of the Council guards made their way past, conversing amicably in a dialect that Sam didn't recognize but apparently (judging from the considerable interest suddenly showing on his face) Jared had a working knowledge of.
In a second he was changed from his usual surly countenance to grinning like a madman. He waited only long enough for the two men to make it around the corner in the direction of the Council House before gloating, "Well what do you know! The Minister seems to have been out sick for a couple of days. Isn't that handy?"
Jared smirked and Sam found himself fearing for either his life or sanity once again.
"Jared, we can't just walk into the Minister's office."
"Oh yes we can. And we will. And be quiet about it! This isn't a Bond movie you know."
Those who knew Sam well agreed that he had considerable will power. And it took every last shred of it to restrain him from hitting Jared at that moment. The impulse died a sudden death when Jared, a dangerous glint still in his eye, shoved out of their little niche and started down the alley with the nonchalance of a tourist.
Sam made a spluttering noise that sounded ridiculous even to his own ears, but got no reaction. He finally just snatched up his pack, determining to fight that battle later, and caught up with Jared just as he was turning down another alley.
"Good grief Jared, was it really necessary to throw me at the wall?" Sam complained, rubbing the back of his neck. "You knocked the wind right out of me!"
"All the better. I didn't need those guys hearing you breathe."
Once again in a span of two minutes Sam wanted to lay into Jared. He reminded himself to take deep breaths as Jared took another corner into a crowded souq.
The air was thick with the odors of camels, dust, sweat, decaying fish, and a mixture of spices and heavy incenses that assaulted the nose unmercifully.
Sam supposed that some of the smells, taken by themselves and in small doses, might even be pleasant. But not most of them.
Jared paused by a young boy with a reed basket and spent five full minutes bartering for two oranges and a handful of almonds. The child drove a stiff bargain and finally Jared acquiesced, paying full price, handing one of the oranges to Sam and slipping the little bag of almonds into his pocket.
Same didn't complain, it was past noon. Having had what Jared called a "good breakfast" (the ritual three tiny cups of ridiculously strong coffee and a piece of flat bread wrapped around cold rice and mutton, remnants of last nights supper which, incidentally, hadn't gotten less tough or better tasting overnight) he figured that it was high time for lunch. ~
~I made this!

I'd like to call attention to the fact that today is Veterans Day, and I want to say thank you. Thank you very much.

The transit-ional period...

Today (or yesterday truth be told, seeing as it's after midnight) my grandfather sent me a link to an article about the upcoming Mercury transit. I kid you not, I spent a full five minutes trying to figure out how the living heck that was possible. It just didn't make a bit of sense. The geometry is all wrong! Mercury can't come between the Earth and Sun!
After a bit of this kind of logic and even a bit of Space.com surfing for more info I finally realized that it's a Mercury transit.
Now I can here you saying to yourself, "Yeah, Mercury, you said that. What's the point?"
Well, my friend, the point is that in my little planetary diagram buried deep within the synapses of my little brain I had juxtaposed...wait for it...Mars with Mercury. Yes indeed. Not consciously. I did not actually sit there and think to myself, "Mercury is farther from the sun then Earth." But I apparently stopped reading at the "M". Do I do that often? I don't think so...
Funny moment when I finally realized that, oh gee whiz, there can conceivably be a Mercury transit because...it's Mercury!
And that, boys and girls, was Renee's Genius Monday Moment.
Thanks a lot folks, I'll be here all week!

~~~~~~
Worth checking out, at the very least because I've been blamed for something on it and/or it's got a great name! And it's published by my friend Kara. ;) www.ChevronSeven.blogspot.com

A bit of dream journaling...

...is what I feel up to right now.

So this morning I woke up from a rather...interesting dream. I have often said that I almost never have nightmares. Occasionally I'll have disturbing dreams, and I'd call this one slightly disturbing. I did want to go back to sleep and see how it turned out though. Even my disturbing dreams I find rather fascinating. Part of the reason being that I get to experience things that I wouldn't be able to otherwise.

This particular dream began with my being on (as near as I can figure) an 1800's war ship. Now I must have been either a prisoner or an impressed crewman, because I definitely wasn't fighting on their side. One of the funny things about it is that through the entire dream I believe I played a female role. It would seem that of all my dreams where I'm a man this should have been one of them. I mean really, on a navy ship in the 1800's?
Anyway, I ended up accused of being a traitor. And I didn't deny it. By their definition I certainly was one. I mean heck, I was sabotaging the ship. There was a bit of a pseudo trial and I was sentenced by the captain to walk the plank. At some point during this part of the dream the captain started (or perhaps had always been?) morphing into my father (hehe, what's that tell ya Freud?), and the ship into our home. But I was still supposed to be killed, yes, at home, via walking the plank.
I didn't fight the sentence, simply set about getting my affairs in order. I know that I hoped that there was some way out, but in the mean time you might as well prepare for the worst. The most vivid part of this portion of the dream was when I decided that my mom (who was exhibiting sorrowful resignation funnily enough) should give my tennis shoes (and supposedly whatever else I had) to somebody that needed them. I would walk the plank in my leather moccasin slippers. (Looking back I'm not really sure why I couldn't walk the plank barefoot, dignity mayhaps?) I then went outside to fill up Tiger's water trough and apparently say goodbye to him. I felt bad because the trough was empty and I thought he'd probably been thirsty.
My first impression upon waking? Relief that it was just a dream. No, not because I didn't in fact die, but relief that it was just a dream that Tiger didn't have water.
Second impression, a wish to go back to sleep to see what happened.
I thought that throughout the dream I acted very much as a spy/prisoner/sabotager (is that a word?) should. I had no choice but to be on the ship, and I made the best of the opportunity by gosh. I also faced my inevitable fate with an icy calm and dignified composure.

That's why I like my dreams! It's just like watching a movie, except that you're in it and you feel everything.
And just like an actor, in my dreams I usually don't see things from the perspective of "Renee". More often then not I am someone else, quite often a man, as I referenced before.
That's quality entertainment!

Another shot at this...

Ok, I was at work and I wrote an uber big long post and saved it...twice! And now it's gone! Completely wiped off the face of the World Wide Web. Ggggrrrrrrr, Blogger!
It occurred to me that perhaps saving it redundantly actually negated it....

First off, a gigantic welcome to Peace and Talbert who were press ganged- eherm, I mean invited, into the Fools Fold last night. Congratulations guys!!!
Hehe, you know what this means right? I'm not the newest newbie anymore. Not that Cowboy will care.

So I was contemplating the flow of time and a friend of mine that is depressed about turning 23. To me 23 is nothing, but he feels like life is rushing past him, like he hasn't accomplished anything.
I kind of know what he means. There are so very many things that I want to experience but I only have a limited amount of time you know. I find myself simultaneously wanting time to speed up and slow down.
I want it to speed up because this semester my courses are trying to rip out my still beating heart and stand holding it over my limp shuddering body, laughing maniacally as my nonexistent GPA steals the last breath of life from my weakly convulsing lungs.
And next semester is going to be worse.
I want it to slow down because I want to savor every single second I have with my friends here. It's funny, and I'm not sure how or when it happened, but I feel closer now to the guys in the SoF and the C-crowd as Jamie calls it then I have to anybody in a long time. Possibly closer then I have to anybody ever. Not counting family of course, just friends.
The day I moved up here last semester my grandfather told me, "I'll bet that you will meet somebody here that you will be friends with for the rest of your life." I believed him then. Now I can say with complete conviction that that's true. I think it's already happened. And I got more then one out of the deal, and that's just awesome.
Also, according to Benji, the SoF can get you women. And it's true! I can name at least three people that count towards your traditional "girlfriends", or "gal pals" if you will. That's really something new for me. It's not that I don't like women, I have just always had exponentially more men/boys as friends. Why is that? I don't know.

They say that your college years are supposed to be the best of your life. I will naturally always try to one-up that. (After all, why limit yourself? The ceiling is where you build it.) But the SoF and those associated have, and will continue, to make topping this a really tough job for me.

I am happy that one cold January morning so very very long ago I happened to look down at the sidewalk and saw a poster...

"Need a hug? Ship of Fools: Improv comedy..."

So this is my...

...first post of November, and it also marks the 9th month of this blog's existence. You see, if I had gotten pregnant instead of making a blog, I would have something to show for it by now. Not that I would condone such a thing. Goodness no. Not for all the space tourists in Russia. Which brings me to the point:
Why is it all the smart people that choose not to reproduce, and the stupid people that breed like rabbits? Is there something wrong with that picture? But moving beyond that:
The Hawkins show last night! I think it went fantastically well. We had a good sized audience (the room was crowded, not that gigantic of a room, but it was crowded) (kinda quite crowd at that), the regulars were there, free pizza was there. All in all, a winning combination. I invoked Happy Feet in Benji by giving him one of the fliers from our floor that advertised us as the "Ship of fool improve comedy club". I think that we do improve comedy.
So today at work I got a windfall in the form of 19 Science journals. We had a bunch that were donated that needed to go to recycling and it happened to be my job to mark them. Naturally I started getting interested in the pretty pictures on the fronts. So I was all like, "Yo homes, can I take some of these?" And they were all like, "Fo shizzle my nizzle." So I did.
Technically I got them to bring home to Shiloh. But I'm going to read them first.

~ If at first you don't succeed, skydiving is not the sport for you! ~

*EDIT*
Ok, so looking back on it I realize that my comment on "stupid people" was at the least cynical and at the worst (dare I say it) downright rude. I really don't have room to talk...I mean, my own father isn't exactly what you'd call genius material, and yet here I am. And I'm happy of my existence. When I say stupid people I mean more the people that are jerks and that you wouldn't want to leave a dog with, let alone let them raise the future leaders of America. That's still pretty rude, but what I'm trying to say is: I do lots of stupid things. I do lots of idiotic things. I do lots of colossally moronic things. But I do try not to be a jerk.

Bestseller list, here I come...

~ Jared lay on the floor, stunned. He’d felt the impact; he would have expected it to hurt, but all he could feel was the stinging burn on his palms where they’d gotten in between him and the rough concrete on his way down.
He saw his shirt, torn and stained, on the floor in front of him. His hand inched out, reaching feebly for it. Reaching for that little bit of his shredded dignity. Had he thought about it he would have realized that he probably couldn’t get it over his own head. He didn’t think about it.
Akbar and the guard each grabbed him by an arm and hauled him upright. Had he been able to take a breath, Jared would have screamed. He’d never in his life felt pain like this. He begged himself to blackout. At that moment in time Jared would have given his soul to the devil if only the searing pain shooting down his back would stop for two seconds.
After what seemed a short eternity the pain waned enough for Jared to realize that his lower back and legs were strangely numb. Icy panic hit him. He was paralyzed, he was sure of it. His mind raced, searching for a way out. He was completely helpless. Suddenly the images flashing through his mind stopped. Through the fog of agony the picture snapped into focus. It was his father, sitting in the nursing home. He looks up, he smiles. Today he remembers. Had they told him? Had the Agency told him anything about this?
With a start Jared returned to the present. The guard on his right was raising a short thick wooden club, just like the one Akbar, out of sheer rage, had cracked over the small of Jared’s back only moments ago.
He opened his mouth. His voice didn’t sound like his own. The club began descending.
“I love you dad.”
The thud of wood on bone, and the beautiful merciful darkness swallowed Jared again. ~
~It's me again, as if you couldn't have guessed.

The show must go on...

...and it did at that!
I'm speaking of the Annual Ship of Fools Halloween Show of course.
I believe I'll skip right to my favorite part of the show. In fact, I think I'm safe in saying it was a lot of people's favorite part of the show. The zompocalypse. Yes, you heard right. There was a zompocalypse. During the show. The Halloween show.
Perhaps I should begin at the beginning.
During the show Ryan got Benji out of the room by cleverly planning a Press Conference, in which Benji was the celebrity. Once the door was shut tight The Rex gave us the lowdown. Benji is looking forward to the zompocalypse...and (correct me if I'm wrong, Benji) is apparently hoping for it to happen on his wedding day. Our parts in the ordeal were assigned and signals arranged. Benji was called back in and did a successful Press Conference. That's when things started to get interesting.
Ryan immediately got him back on stage after PC was over for a Blind Lines game. The setting: Benji's wedding. The scene is going fine. Some good advice was passed on from Ryan's grandma ("Today you are a real boy!") and so on and so forth.
Suddenly, oh my gosh! What's that? Zombies! It's the zompocalypse!

Ryan: "What do they want?!"
Zombie Audience: "Braaaiiins."
Ryan: "When do they want them?!"
Zombie Audience: "Braaaiiins."
As one the zombies rose to their cold dead feet, reaching for the two mortals with their stiff clammy arms, a vacant otherworldly glint in their collective eye, and started shuffling forward.
Ryan (snatching up his shotgun and throwing down a chair to entrench himself behind): "Benji! Defend yourself!"
Benji (pulling out his cane sword, prepared to fight off the un-dead hordes with his second at his back): "To infinity and beyond!"

It was a lot of fun.

~ "I'd like to smear you in chocolate and have some fun with you." ~
~ Spanke, last line of If You Know What I Mean

The Insane Simians...

...or something like that. Yup you guessed it! It's tomorrow! So I'm writing about what was today, but is now yesterday, per the plan laid out yesterday. Yeah.
So Saturday I went to see the Crazy Monkeys for the first time in my long and eventful life. Up to this point they'd always had their shows on a Friday night, and anybody with two brain cells to rub together should know that there is no way on the bosom of the good Mother Earth that I'd play traitor to the Fools to see the Monkeys in action. There's just no way. None.
But this week they had a show on a Saturday. So I went. And now I shall try to report on it, in as honest and unbiased way as possible. Stop that snorting! It's not polite.
So anyway, the C. Monkeys, I was disappointed to find out, went more for the short form genre (though their short form games are longer then ours, but I'm getting ahead of myself).
The games they played were:
~Evil Twin (good game, one we don't do)
~Chain Murder Mystery (which looking back on I really should have volunteered for!)
~World's Worst
~Vacation (same as our slide show, except they had two people telling about the trip and the other members weren't necessarily all in all the slides all the time),
~Slo-Mo Sports (another one we don't do, quite entertaining)
~Nightmare Day-in-the-Life-Of
~Do Rap
~Head-in-a-Bucket (or Oxygen Deprivation) (which I had read of and was happy to see performed, though they didn't justify being wet as was set out in the instructions I read. Difference of preference I imagine. Any game that requires 6 beach towels and a mop to clean up after should be funny.)
~And finally Anti-Freeze (like freeze, but the scenes have to all be related, backwards in time. Complicated, hard to do I've no doubt)

And now the Compare N' Contrast!

Monkey Pros:
~Jane Goodall
Bwhahahahahaha! No but seriously folks. She's a chimp expert.
~Great character potential! They had six members and all of them seemed extremely versatile and creative.
~Good shirts, with their names.
~Great teamwork/communication. They all seemed comfortable going into a scene where they had to completely depend on the other person not to drop the proverbial ball.

Monkey Cons:
~King Kong
Bwhahahahhaha! Oh come on, like you didn't see that one coming!
~I think the group would be brilliant in long form. Character development is crucial to short form, but you can't spend to much time on it.
~They have names. We have nicknames!
~They're games seemed a bit loose round the edges. I have come to learn that timing is all important, especially knowing when to end a scene. End while the audience is laughing and before they get tired of the game. Our games (even the identical ones such as CMM) seemed much more fast paced and hard hitting. (case in point, they had 9 games for a set that was about 75-80 minutes. We plan 12-14 games for a 45 minute set.) With theirs, it was harder to follow because you weren't necessarily on the edge of your seat.
True, I laughed aloud at the Monkeys. False, it was not uncontrollable laughter, as is usually the case with the SoF. With them, I found that I was laughing more at the various character developments that they were incorporating. Again, I'd still like to see them in long form. Or longer form I guess. I'd like to reiterate, I am frankly jealous of some of their members ability to completely embody a character.
But the Fools still win.

So there ya have it! My contributions to the show?
~CMM location: In the dimple on a golf ball.
~Vacation destination: The Moscow Kremlin
~Do Rap name: Jill
With great regret and sadness I must report that I was not able to use the suggestion "zompocalypse" for Benji, who was with me in spirit, but actually being productive in body.

To end with an all too applicable quote:

Kyle: "It kind of looks like Curious George."
Benji: "It looks like curious something!"
~Annual SoF Halloween Show, 2006

Join us again tomorrow when we'll learn all about the Annual SoF Halloween Show and the party thereafter!

The things they are a happenin'...

...and never were six words spoken more truly...truthful...truthfully...with a lot of truth!
Today we're actually going to start something new, since my last few days have been just so jam packed with news. To try our best to avoid the freakishly long and tortuous post we're going to try...wait for it...series!
You see, today I will tell you about today. Tomorrow I will tell you about yesterday. Follow me? And then the day after tomorrow I will tell you about the day before yesterday. It all makes so much sense!
Ok, today starts at midnight. Round about midnight if I remember correctly I was probably sitting on Kyle's couch rocking out to Ryan "T. Sexy" Garwood's party mix CD's. "Who was sitting with you?" You inquire inquisitively. Well I'll tell ya, seating was a hot commodity last night. The party (see tomorrow's post for the beginning of the party which started yesterday) was really standing room only, and there wasn't even much of that. There was a lot of shuffling going on. In short, I was probably with some combo of Kara, Cowboy, Benji, and Freshman.
It was great fun, Cowboy got Kara trained for the reflex arm raising and "Huzzah!" whenever she hears "Time out". He also made repeated attemps to haze me.
Cowboy: "Noob! Did I give you permission to use the trash can?"
Me: (in his face) "No, no you didn't!"
Cowboy: "Good job, way to stand up for yourself."
And:
Cowboy: "Did I give you permission to touch the Benji, Noob?"
And:
Cowboy: "Did I give you permission to speak, Noob?
My responses were pretty much consistent throughout (aka blatant denial, insubordinate backtalk, picketing, etc).
Cowboy: "I haze because I care."

The whole shebang went on until about 2:30 this morning, but more about that tomorrow.

Unfortunately it was not all fun and games for everybody. A car caught fire in the Wood St garage. I was not present but word on the street is that there was also at some point an explosion involved (having seen the aftermath I am inclined to believe this). Because he has the darndest luck in the world, Alex's car happened to be parked next to the one that exploded. When he was ready to leave he went out to get his car and it wasn't there. They'd had all three of the cars (the Jeep that started the whole thing, SOG's beautiful new red 2003 Corolla, and the Ranger that was on the other side of Alex's car) towed after the fire department had got them extinguished.
This morning I drove him and his girlfriend down to the towing yard to take pictures and see if there was anything to be saved inside it. It's terrible. The whole drivers side scorched, most of the windows broken, most of the interior burnt or melted...
All I have to say is, I'm sure glad Alex wasn't in there when it happened!
Two things we all found very helpful were the man that they sent out to watch us looking at the car and his buddy that joined us after a bit (we were thinking that they were possibly imported from Alabama) . Their comments ran along the lines of:

~Guy #1: "It smells like burnt car." I'm not exactly sure what he thought we'd think it smelled like...

~Guy #2: "Hey, your water bottle on the floor survived just fine!" Oh, thank goodness!

~Guy #1: "Those CD's should be just fine if you cut the cases off and leave em to dry face down on a shelf for a day."

~Guy #2: "Was he a forner?" Referencing the owner of the Exploding Jeep.
Guy #1: "Yeah, couldn't speak no English!"
Guy #2: "That explains it!"

Ok, so my series plan is working great, but so far we've only gotten through the first 12 hours of today. We'll extend the series! Tomorrow (which will then be today) I'll talk more about today (or yesterday, tomorrow), and then the day after tomorrow I'll talk about yesterday which will at that time the day before yesterday, and then the day after the day after tomorrow I'll talk about the day before yesterday. Ok?

Until next time (tomorrow):
Guy #1 "It'll all be ok once the insurance man gets out that checkbook and starts writing."

Oh, you know you like it...

~ "Jared lay huddled in the corner, shivering violently, his shirt soaked with sweat and vomit. With irony that he found sacrilegiously out of place he thought that at least it was his own vomit.
They hadn't taken him out for any questioning for two days now. Tonight it would be three. Yesterday he'd prepared himself to die. When you're no good for information, you're no good for much of anything. But then, shockingly, they'd sent someone down with some food for him.
He just wanted the pain to go away. He wanted to sleep, but he couldn't. Before, the stress of one "good" interrogation session added to his illness had almost always left him unconscious for the rest of the day and night, but now it felt like he was painfully aware, every nerve taut and vibrating.
He shivered again, how long had he had this fever?
His mind snapped with unexpected clarity to Sam. Yes, Sam was here, or he had been here at least. Jared had almost forgotten. How long since he'd seen him? Days? Weeks? Jared wondered if they'd killed him. He thought that he should be more upset at that prospect but he couldn't make himself feel any emotion. His memory of Sam seemed so distant. Maybe there was no Sam, maybe he was a dream.
Jared surprised himself by almost laughing. If he was going to dream about somebody he would have wanted them to at least be female, and hopefully good looking.
He felt a sudden wash of guilt. Sam was here. He was real. Jared hoped that he was ok. His emotions finally caught up with his cognition and his eyes stung with tears. Sam was as close to a best friend as Jared had ever had.
The darkness started closing in on him. He pleaded with God for Sam to be alive...somewhere." ~
~From the mind of Renee

Something I thought was funny...

...A couple things actually.

1) A bit of AIM away message levity. For those of you playing along at home: docmilanowski = Benji, joyful zephyr = Me.
Auto response from docmilanowski: With a friend like joyful zephyr, who needs hallucinations?
Benji is always great entertainment late at night. If you know what I mean.

2) 668: Neighbor of The Beast.

3) Canadian DOS prompt: EH?\>

"Bwahahahahaha, oh Renee, you always crack me up!"

To the heights of insomnia...

...and beyond! Yeah, I can't sleep.
I got an interesting call today. It was from my old roomie. Yup, you remember her don't ya? Of course you do! How could you forget her! Our conversation pretty much went like this:

Me: "Oh, hi."
Her: "Hey, could you curl my hair at about 4:35?" (What do I look like? Your personal stylist?)
Me: "No, I've got something going already." (That something pretty much consisted of me wanting to take a nap.)
Her: "Even if I paid you?" (Yeah. Dignity, get your dignity right here! Cheap, close-out prices!)
Me: "Fraid not." (Over my cold dead rigor mortis afflicted body.)
Her: "Oh. Ok."

That conversation is pretty indicative of our general relationship.

I found this bit that I apparently wrote last semester stuck in a notebook. Hope you like it. Just for background info, this is before the Dynamic Duo get captured and subsequently tortured.

~Sam leaned back against the cool brick wall and took a few deep gasping breaths, eyes half shut. After a few moments Jared couldn't help but notice the state of things.
"What's wrong with you?", he demanded.
"I forgot to tell you, I'm a little claustrophobic."
Jared's eyes narrowed slightly. "Well pull it together. We don't have time for that."
Sam glared at him. "Thanks Jare, that really helps!"
Jared gritted his teeth. "Don't call me Jare!"~
~Me, s'all me baby.

Insanity prevailed...

...and there was a slight breeze out of the northwest. Thus begins the everlasting record of the first ever SoF show with Kamikaze acting as helmswoman.

7:00-9:30 After some initial practice and game run-throughs in Beering 2280 the troupe headed over to Stake n' Shake for some pre-show refreshments. While there we entertained the waitress immensely and played peek-a-boo with some cute little kid a couple seats down.
In addition, a plan for some supplemental income for the Fools was developed. The enterprise will be called Shank n' Shiv. "Having trouble in the showers? Call Shank n' Shiv! With the Deluxe Package we'll even supply the alibi!"
There may be stock options available shortly.

9:30-11:00 Arrived at Co-Rec and found not very many people in attendance as of yet. After some initial standing outside the back door tasting the "popcorn air" with Kyle (Benji and Cowboy being the onlookers) the group congealed in the middle of the large gym floor and rocked out to the jammin' tunes. A tiny isle of insane fun alone in the midst of hardwood basketball courts with a few seemingly solemn people skulking against the far walls and dodging in and out of shadows. And I'll tell ya, we've got some smoooooth dancers in this group! Some of the spectacular moves included: The Sprinkler, The Monkey, The Weird Little Thing You Do With Two Fingers Across Your Eyes, The Shopping Cart, The Slide, The Robot, and so forth. It was awesome!
And then someone said "Let's shoot some hoops!" And most of us took off down the room for some pseudo basketball. At first it was two on two, which morphed to three on three, and then Tripod jumped in. He was just playing for the team in the black shirts.
In no time at all we were bundled outside by our Fearless Leader for 5 minutes of fast paced warmups before our set was supposed to start.

11:00-11:45 "I want every one of you to be hoarse tomorrow!"~T. Rex
The acoustics sucked. But soaring above and beyond trifling issues such as not being heard, the SoF prevailed! Twas a good show! Unfortunately I missed some of it, what with being behind the performers you can't take in all the good facial expressions and stuff.
Some highlights included:
~A very active Countdown in which Alex hurt himself yet again by throwing himself (with gusto) at the floor, perhaps utilizing Douglas Adams' method of learning to fly? Where better to be distracted from hitting the ground then at an improv show? The game also included a lot of people carrying other people across the stage.
~The successful completion of a human pyramid (always funny!) during That's How It Really Happened. That always gives you a warm and tingly feeling when it gets pulled off.

All in all, a great evening!

"My phone's more manly then your phone!" ~ Cowboy
"Oh yeah, well my phone knows how to love a woman!" ~ Benji

Yeah it's new...

...do you like it?

Anyway, update: You have until next Friday to let me know if you want an SoF shirt. The pre-order deadline has been extended.

Also of interest: Guess who has a profile! No, not David Duchovny! Me! http://web.ics.purdue.edu/~improv/wordpress/meet-the-crew/
And it all happened just like that! Exactly like it says.

In other news: My first show is this Friday! Woo, yeah, show me that! *eherm* Sorry, got carried away.

I'll leave you with an IM quote from Ryan. I am totally the Pimpin' Kamikaze!

AKindOfMagic14: nothin' like dive bombin' some sucka' with an iced out Zero, right?

SoF collectible memorabilia...

...marketing and junk.
OK , I forgot to mention. Anybody in my family, or for that matter any random Tom, Dick, or Harry that happens to read this, can order a real authentic satisfaction guaranteed Ship of Fools t-shirt now. I'm sorry that I can't afford to just get everybody one, but I'm a down and out college student.
They're gray (high quality cotton mixed with other junk) with the SoF logo on the back and the words "Ship of Fools" on (I believe) the left breast.
If you let me know by this Friday that you want one (and what size you want) I can set you up for the stunningly low price of $12 a piece. I know a guy. If you wait you can still get one but it'll run ya $15, and you're kinda taking a chance on the whole size thing.
I do plan to get mom and Shiloh each one (don't tell them), and if anybody else would like that for a Christmas/birthday gift then by all means let me know right away. It'll make my holiday shopping all that much easier!
So anyway, spread the news and get em while they're hot!

Just so you know...

...I have decided to go ahead and drop aeromechanics. At this point, yeah I might be able to salvage it, but not without sacrificing big time on my other 4 courses. As much as I hate quitting, it's not worth it to get bad grades across the board. I can't take the chance of failing anything.
Dr Garrison gave me permission to continue sitting in on the class and turning in homework, so I will try my best to catch up (I didn't ask if I can still take exams, we'll see about that later I guess) and understand the material so it won't be so hard next semester.
Speaking of which, I registered for spring classes today. Right now we're looking at Aeromechanics again, Thermo, Linear Algebra, Multivariate Calc, and Intro to Anthropology. Do I hear the devil laughing?

Thank you Christine and Jenny for the encouraging, complimentary, and inspiring comments! I really appreciate it that you took time to try to cheer me up and give me advice. It did help, really. You've no idea how highly I value a good friend. Well maybe you do know. They don't grow on trees.
I still don't feel good about the whole thing, but that's ok. I'll do what I have to do. This is better then indecision at any rate.

Oh and I have my car back. Stu drove me over in his hot red sports car to pick it up yesterday. No check engine light anymore. Yay.

And now I must get back to analyzing Eternal Sunshine. Thanks for letting me and Kara hang with you and watch it Jenny! I had a great time. That's the kind of homework I like.

~ "On the way there I saw a specimen of the rare but spectacular Sprinting Geek. As he shot past, shirt tail flapping in the wind I briefly spotted the glint of his telltale pocket protector in the moonlight." ~ Yours Truly

Just one time...

...I'd like to have some real academic success here at Purdue. Just to remind me what it feels like to actually do good at something again.
I try not to fill this blog up with pages and pages of whining, but this is my outlet, so my advice to you is: If you don't like hearing me complain, don't read this.
Got my aero exam back today. Failed it. Failed. Not the first time I've failed an exam by any stretch of the imagination, but I had really hoped that maybe I could eke out a passing grade in this course the first time around.
The feller next to me asked how I did. I said "Horribly" and something about having to take the course over. He said something encouraging along the lines of "Oh you can catch up, this is only the first exam." Also only half way through the semester and my last chance to drop it without a failing grade on my record.
When is it a good idea to give up? When do you have to simply accept the fact that you can't do something? When are you an idiot for waving the white flag to soon? When are you an idiot for waving it to late?
I can't fail a course this semester. I have to come back here. I can't get suspended.
Why is this so hard for me? Don't I have what it takes?
I don't want to give up.

Crash and burn...

...duck and run, suck it up and take it like a man. All good sayings.

Since it's only 10:30 on a Saturday morning and I have no friends currently logged into AIM I shall air my dirty laundry here.
Today I took my sweet lil' ol' car down to the Friendly Neighborhood Midas to have the oil changed, wiper blades replaced, stuff like that. Simple right? No. The other day on my weekly supply reconnaissance mission it started to overheat. The little "check engine" light came on and the whole schlemeel. I take a peek under the hood and notice that the coolant is mighty darn low (similar to the Sahara being "mighty darn low" on water), so I dump some in there. Coolant is something I carry with me in the trunk for just such an occasion. So anyway, I tell em to check it out for me, cause even after that the darn thing was still getting too hot.
As it turns out, the bottom seal on the radiator is shot. You put coolant in, and coolant comes out. They're going to get a new one in on Monday for me ("So they say." she notes, incredulously.) but this whole deal is going to run me about 500 smackeroos. Granted I've had the car for almost a year now and this is really the first thing that's gone wrong with it, so I guess I'm lucky, but my previous car (and car repair) experience has left a bad taste in my mouth.
To add to it! I decide to leave the car there and they call a taxi for me (my first taxi ride ever, and it was all I ever dreamed of) and I ride back over to Hawkins. As I get out of the car I automatically brush my hand across my belt to check that my keys are there (never lock em inside that way) and realize that I left my keyring at the mechanics. Yup, all my keys are still on it. Thankfully you can borrow room and bathroom keys from the front desk or I'd be screwed. And thankfully I'm not opening the library this weekend, or I'd be screwed.

In other news, I now have a nickname! I think Benji dubbed me, although there might have been joint effort going on there between Ryan, Cowboy and he. Hard to tell, it was in the middle of a crowded Applebees. I am now Renee "Kamikaze" [Insert last name if you know it] (ha! take that Internet Stalkers!).
The Non-Kamikaze (yeah, there's a story there) is more accurate, but hey, since when did "SoF" become synonymous with "accuracy"? As I told Cowboy, I've always wanted to be a pilot...just not that kind...

I also had my first 1000 Blank White Cards game last night. And this morning. The game went until after 2 AM if I remember correctly. It was quite enjoyable. There are points involved, but they really don't matter (it is a legitimate strategy to make up a card that says you win the game). The point is to make your friends, the people you love, do as many insane and humiliating things as possible. Wait, that doesn't sound fun...But it is. Of course, they're out to do the same to you as well, so that balances it out. I don't remember even a fraction of the cards played but a couple that stood out to me were the Make Out With T. Rex card, the Nuclear Winter card (where all crazy enough, stood outside of Hillenbrand shirtless for 5 minutes), the Bay of Pigs card (played on me, I lost a ton of points but gained 3 Cuban cigars, totally worth it), the Back to The Future Line Recollection Standoff (came down to me and Cowboy, who seemed to have many more up his sleeve so I really don't think I had the dimmest chance of winning that one.), and the 60 Seconds From Hell card (variation of 60 Second Alphabet, played on Tripod and myself, and I got through the alphabet! Here's a shout-out to my mom who homeschooled me up to my senior year of HS! How's it going moms?). After the Nuclear Winter card I was set upon by the urge to play the Purple Nurple card. Anyone who stood in front of Hillenbrand stripped to the waist lost 1000 points (the same amount that they gained by doing it) but then Andrew (or Peace, as we have taken to calling him, thanks to Cowboy) played the Revenge of the Y Chromosome card. If you were female with a name that started with "R" you were docked 6000 points. Coincidentally the same number of collective points that were taken after the Purple Nurple card. Hmmmmm
To sum up:
It was hilarious, it was great, overall, fantastic hangoutage. It doesn't get much funner then that!

Kamikaze signing off.

~"You licked my chest!!!"~
SOG, after the Gay Chicken card was put into play.

I'll apologize ahead of time...

...to those of you with delicate sensibilities.
HAHAHAHA

Alrighty then, I think all ya'll know that I recently was home for October Break. Oh you didn't? Well you do now.
There were a couple of high points that I must mention.

1) I found a small piece of a (mammalian) jawbone (with three teeth still attached) packed in Tiger's hoof. At first I thought it looked like a toe, because I could only see one tooth which looked like a claw, but once I got it out and rinsed off, I recognized it for what it really was. A piece of a jawbone. With three teeth. Still attached.
I think Stu's words describe it quite well:
"Oh, it was much cuter in text!" (Referencing our IM conversation in which he pointed out to me the fact that "Tiger's bad side" is pretty much synonymous with "the bottom of Tiger's hoof". The man has a point.

2) Cleaning out my car on Sunday. "Why Renee darling, why would you have need to clean out your car?" Well, we won't go there. Whoever reads this regularly will already know why, and any poor unsuspecting strangers probably wouldn't want to know why.**

Can you believe that the semester is half over already!?! Yeah! Half over! Next week I have two midterms and an advising appointment to register for next semester's classes. How time flies when you're having fun! I'm kinda ticked right at this very moment. I've been trying to get on the course description website to figure out what classes I can take in the spring and the bleeping page won't load. Perhaps it's awash with whatever web pages become awash with.
Next week will also mark my first SoF show! Well first show as anything other then a groupie. I'm very excited. Also desperately hoping that I don't completely spaz out. (Kamikaze, ey Ryan ;)

And now from good deed corner: You know how I love sharing the love! Well today I gave kisses to three men, one of whom professed to be starving. Good deeds don't get much gooder then that! And yes, go ahead and say it, I do kiss and tell!

~ "Yeah I can leap tall buildings...with a running start...and favorable winds..." ~

**It's cause my brother threw up in it. All over it. Yeah.

EDIT:
I forgot the third highlight! New Washington has a flashing yellow light now! Yeah! Driving home on Friday night I saw it and was all like, "Yo homes, when was all this put in?" It was awesome.

And I just want to add that I now know how I want my remains taken care of. Before I had no preference. I was all like, "Yo homes, I'll be dead, I won't care." but just now while in the shower I was contemplating industrial car cleaning equipment and death (Oh yeah! Like you can honestly tell me that you don't think about those two things when you're showering!) and it occurred to me that I would like to be cremated and then have my ashes flown up in a plane (or even better a jet, but word on the streets is that it's harder to roll down the windows on one of those.) and then one of my poor survivors will try to dump my ashes out, but they won't go out! They'll get blown back in all over the plane, and then the plane will land on a highway and taxi into the nearest available carwash where I will be sucked up out of the upholstery by a SuperVac. I estimate that this stage will cost 1-4 dollars, depending on how well spread I am.

Yeah, well I get 10%...

Seeing as how at this very moment I don't have any outstanding news to report but want to write something anyway, I shall take this opportunity to shamelessly, and indeed even gleefully, promote blogs written by my friends. Oh so you don't like reading blogs do you? Well you're reading this one! I rest my case.
First up we have Paul's blog which can be found at: http://www.kuliniewicz.org/blog/. What can be said about Paul's blog? You'll laugh, you'll cry, there won't be a dry seat in the house. The man is funny. I'll leave it at that. Read it, love it, link it, add it to your Favorites list.

Second on the docket is Benji's Livejournal. http://docmilanowski.livejournal.com/. He covers quite the range of topics, usually tossing in at least a few lines that will make you laugh out loud. Or they're so touching that you tear up. Either way, good stuff. Another top Favorites list candidate if I ever saw one.

Lastly, to round out the blogs that I for one check pretty much daily, we have Ryan's blog. I think you all know that I'm a big T. Rex fan, who in their right mind wouldn't be? "So what's the address?!?" you demand, anxious to get your hot little paws (figuratively) all over that blog. Well I'll tell ya. It's: http://auriga.blogspot.com/. Very creative, entertaining, and let's face it, how often do you get a chance to take a glimpse into the mind of a dinosaur? Again, definite Favorites spot winner here.

So there you have it! Who needs Dickens and Emmerson when you've got good junk like this at your fingertips! Well go ahead and read D and E anyway, cause that's good stuff too...

A terrible day...

...perhaps not.
As most anybody who reads this will already know, a stupendously awesome thing happened yesterday. I was given a shirt. "What the-" you begin to interject, but I interrupt you with, "Not just any shirt mind you! But a black polo shirt with the SoF logo emblazoned on the left breast." I'm delighted, I'm astounded, I really don't have words to describe this. Once again I came to the Fools feeling dejected and depressed and left incredibly happy. How do they do that? Thanks guys. Thanks a lot!
Moving beyond metaphysical queries, I've got another little bit of writing for ya'll. This is a glimpse into Jared's deeply shrouded and incredibly mysterious past...

~ The young pilot stepped forward resolutely, if not arrogantly.
"Sir you sent for me, sir?"
His eyes stayed obediently on the far wall as he addressed his SO.
"Yeah Slammer, I sent for ya'. Any guesses as to why?"
"Sir I have no clue. Probably something to do with my flying, sir."
Admiral Levy feigned shock. "Your flying? Why in heaven's name would I have a problem with your flying?"
Jared knew the drill by now. Levy liked a confession, preferably with a repentant attitude. Jared had not yet perfected his repentant attitude. He knew that after 10 or 15 minutes of listening to Levy go off about everything but the weather, and sometimes that as well, he would be assigned "discipline", usually taking the form of mess duty, solitary, or grounding. Sometimes all three.
The fellers in mess really enjoyed Jared's company, and Jared usually enjoyed his own company, so the first two weren't that bad. The grounding was really the only one that bothered him and he didn't have to worry about it to often. Levy liked keeping him in the air. Despite his "attitude problem" Jared was a good pilot. Levy most often went for the solitary, and it was this habit that had earned Jared his call name.
It was a well documented fact that "Slammer" had logged nearly a thousand air hours and at least that many in solitary. The general opinion aboard the USS Nimitz was that Jared spent all his time in solitary coming up with new ways to bend the rules and thus irritate Levy.
Admiral Levy finally fell silent and looked Jared over. The boy was barely out of his teens, couldn't even buy himself a beer, and yet he was one of the best pilots that Levy and the Nimitz had ever seen. If only he could keep his mind on just flying the plane by the rules!
"You're in solitary Slammer. 3 days."
"Sir yes, sir."
The boy was still to stinking arrogant.
"You'll only come out for the scheduled training runs the day after tomorrow."
"Sir yes, sir." Jared repeated with a perfectly unreadable face. Levy finally gave up.
"That'll be all."
As Jared escorted himself to solitary he whistled and grinned at everyone he passed. He'd been a little worried that Levy would go for grounding him this time, but as it turned out he wouldn't even miss the training run. He really did have excellent luck. ~

With special thanks to...

...my dear friend Benji and wonderful sister Christine, who's wisdom and knowledge inspired and propelled me to new and unsurpassed heights of wealth and prestige. I owe it all to you!

~ Sam tried to gasp, tried to cry out but couldn't take a breath. He could feel his ribs moving under his hands as he desperately clutched his stomach, trying to will himself to breath. It felt like there were knives sticking into his lungs.
The edges of his vision began to go foggy and it suddenly washed over him. Through the pain he felt his legs and arms go numb. He would die here. They would kill him, in as slow a manner as possible, and he would die before America, his home, his Mother Country, bothered to come get him.
There was never a time in Sam's life that he'd felt so spectacularly alone in the universe. Up to this point he'd subconsciously entertained the notion that a bunch of special op's would come sweeping in at any moment and pull them back to safety, a bit roughed up, but none the worse for wear.
Now he was cut adrift. Hopelessness cascaded through him. There was no one coming. There was no point in hanging on.
At that very moment, a split second before he finally let go and plunged into the black void, his lungs decided that the battle wasn't over. After what seemed forever and a day of struggling to get that breath, it finally came when he'd stopped fighting.
Immediately Sam wished he hadn't taken it. It seared it's way down and stabbed into his chest. He gasped and rolled to his back in an attemp to relieve the renewed pressure on his ribs.
It didn't help. ~

There ya have it folks. Yet another torture scene by yours truly. Sam is not the main character in this story, Jared is. But my dearest (and only) sister claimed that I only ever tortured Jared. I mistakenly let slip that "Jared was easier to torture." By which I meant that he lent his character more readily to torture scenes, not that he was more fun to torture. And so to prove her wrong I started writing about poor Sam more. Please do leave me feedback on it. Honesty is always appreciated, but mindless flattery will also do nicely. :)

I'll have the Academia Cliche', and please hold the introspection...

So I've been meaning to write a new post for some while now, but truth be told, I haven't got much to write about. I think we all know that I could easily bang out a few paragraphs on how my classes are going, and what we did at the last improv meeting, but that seems just a tad played out. I've noticed all my posts are looking extraordinarily similar of late. Perhaps this is a commentary on my life.
I do have to throw this in. Any Fools that read this, you've no idea how grateful and indebted I am to you. Last semester was hard. My first time living away from home, first time in a big school. It's a huge adjustment to make. You all made a way for me to laugh and have fun, but not just that, you've become my main group of friends as well.
That having been said, I knew going into this semester that with the courses I have it would be hard, and I was right. Talk about hanging on by your eye-teeth. It's wonderful to know that at least once a week I can let it all go and just relax and laugh (not to mention all the other times when Ryan and Benji give me excellent academia related advice/support). I really don't know what I would do without it. I guess if you're going to be addicted to something, SoF is as good a choice as you can make.
Every semester there comes a time that I begin thinking things like: "Well gee, working at McDonald's until I'm 87 doesn't actually sound like it's that bad of an option..." But then I remind myself that anytime I'm out of school for more then a week I start to get restless and miss it insanely.
There is a part of me that is scared to death to graduate. I really don't want to buckle down and get a job and act like an adult. I have the glimmering image of a job I'll love and be excited to go to every day in my mind's eye, but what if it's not like that? What if I decide it's boring after the first week like all my other jobs? But then the tiny Renee' on the other shoulder is telling me that I'd better hurry the heck up and graduate because eventually the grant money is going to run out and I'm going to need a job that pays slightly above minimum wage.
Being a student for the rest of my natural born days does have it's appeal. It changes from week to week. I'll not be bored, that's for sure. But I really doubt that I'd like to live the rest of my life in a dorm. Although I have to admit it would be rather fun to go and talk with my RA about my mid-life crisis and menopause and stuff like that. There really is always a silver lining isn't there?
This little article has actually gotten quite a bit longer then I had originally intended. Just goes to show that when I'm in a mood to muse I should not under any circumstances be left unsupervised.

Let me see if I can't come up with a nice quote from one of my made-up people to wrap things up...
~ Just let me do it. I promise you, I'm not nearly as stupid as I look. What's that? What's that laugh? You don't believe me!" ~ Ben Johnson
(which funnily enough, Johnson is my mom's maiden name. Am I creative or what?)

Oscar Wilde?...Is that you?...

Disclaimer: The above mentioned subject title has nothing whatsoever to do with the content and/or subject matter of this blog entry. There was never a time, nor will there ever be, when the author was/is in any way associated with Oscar Wilde and/or his associates.

Good morning Indiana!

As some and/or all of you may know yesterday was Friday. Being Friday there was an SoF practice as usual, and it went pretty darn good if I do say so myself. After a trying week a little helping o' puns, wordplay, rhymes, mime, and gibberish were just what I needed. I left a much brighter person then I came!
I had a couple firsts last night. My first Do Run and Dating Game. I didn't want to go home with either bachelors 1 or 3, The Roadrunner and Going Through the Process of Rusting respectively. But I did feel definite chemistry with bachelor 2 who was "the father of the atomic bomb" Robert Oppenheimer, and who I guessed was a mad New York scientist, despite Benji's excellent clues that, looking back on it, I realize really went above and beyond the call of duty.

To finish things off I'll give you a few sentences I wrote down in my little notebook some time this summer. Seriously though, I bet you guys are going to think I write only torture pieces. I'm here to tell you that that's not true. All evidence to the contrary. You're going to start thinking I'm some kinda freak...

~ "Stand!" Akbar roared.
Wincing, clutching his abdomen Sam tried to get to his feet, falling twice in the slick puddle of his own blood. Finally upright, he swayed uncertainly and was consumed by a violent coughing fit that left blood dripping from his lips and chin. A tiny disillusioned voice in a distant corner of his mind advised, logically enough, that that couldn't be a good sign and perhaps he should see a doctor.~

It's high time...

...for a new post! I realize that the ol' blog has been somewhat neglected of late, but I've got good reason and just cause. I'm busy.
As for updates, school/classes are going pretty good. It's nearing the time for first exams. I was looking at my schedule the other day and realized that Friday will wrap up the fourth week of classes! Time flies when you're having fun.
In other news, the Ship of Fools callout was a huge success. And when I say huge I mean gigantic. Kyle estimated that there were between 55 and 60 people there, not counting Fools. The show was excellent and there were several very enthusiastic new audience members who I am fully expecting to return for a second dose.
Oh, and happy Grandparent's Day Nan and Pap. I realize that this is a tad late and that a good grandchild would probably call or send a card, probably even on Grandparent's Day, but I forgot. Sorry. I love you!

I shall end with a quote. *ehem*
"Aren't you supposed to shoot them? Doesn't that help recovery?"
~Benji-upon looking at a picture of the cut on Tiger's leg.

Updated Data...

I have titles for the pictures now!
The first (the horse) shall be called *ehem*, "Who Zat?"
And the second (the boy) will bare the name, "Shared Joke"
Just so ya know.
Seriously though, do click on em, cause...they're better that way.
I think...

And time goes on...

Well things are still going pretty good at Purdue.
The calculus homework for today was harder for me then I'd gotten used to. Oh you want the reason do you? It's because it had to do with integrals. Yup, integrals. Apparently I've forgotten everything I learned in calc 1, the simplest stuff was stumping me.
In other news, T. Rex has saved me from a horrifically ghastly death by a cocktail of MATLAB and despondency. In the throes of despair I called upon him for assistance and he came through like the tragically heroic aerospace engineer he is!
Tomorrow is the ballroom club callout which I shall be attending if at all possible, and Friday is the Fools callout which I most definitely will be attending. If my foresight is even in the tiniest bit correct that is also the night I shall be setting out on my return journey home for the glorious and highly celebrated Labor Day weekend. During which I shall be laboring...on calculus. I shall also pack and bring back a few sketching supplies. Speaking of sketching, I'd like to share with ya'll a couple of sketches I did the a couple weeks before coming back to school. The first is a horse and is entitled "Untitled". The second is of my lil' bro Shiloh and is entitled "Untitled". And since it won't let me add them to the page below this post you will find both "Untitled" and "Untitled" in the next post up.