RIP SWC :*-(
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Now playing: Pink Floyd - Us And Them
via FoxyTunes
Friday, August 10, 2007
Thursday, June 7, 2007
Resignation
As you may have noticed, I have not been writing stories lately. This stems from two facts: 1) I lead a busy and full life, traveling often, and 2) when I have time, I prefer to read rather than write. Therefore, I am resigning my membership in the Story-a-Week Club. I will remain a guest author, but I'm not promising any regularity. Happy writing to you all!
Monday, June 4, 2007
Pet Peeves
Top 10 Grammatical Pet Peeves (in no particular order):
1. Expresso
Now, for you non-coffee drinkers out there (so basically everyone reading this except maybe Mom), this is actually spelled espresso. Notice that there is no “x” in this word. If anyone asks me for an “expresso truffle” at work again, I think I might kill them. If any of you EVER say expresso around me, you won’t live long. You’ve been warned.
2. Adverb problems (no ly)
This is a favorite of Andrea’s. “He doesn’t take me serious.” Hello! There is an ly on the end of that! “He doesn’t take me seriously.” Please add the ly on the word seriously! Serious.
3. Snuck-vs-Sneaked, the perpetual war
Now, when you search for “snuck” on www.dictionary.reference.com, you get, “verb, sneaked or snuck.” However, either dictionary.com is wrong or snuck is a newly added word to the English vocabulary. It has always been sneaked, but snuck has been used so many times, no one even notices anymore. Sneaked sounds wrong now! Snuck is a misspelled word in Microsoft Word as well. Either way, I don’t like it so it shouldn’t exist. So there.
4. Anyways
This is one that I fell prey to for years. Tom pointed this out to me - “anyways” is not actually a word. The correct word is “anyway.” No “s” on that word. This is something that everyone does, but they’re wrong. And I’m right. Boo yah!
5. Boo yah!
I hate it when people say boo yah.
6. Chat Jargon (especially smileys)
This I can thank Betsy for. As I was chatting with her last night, she threw a smiley my way, thinking it would be cute, or perhaps funny, or maybe just entertaining somehow. What is actually was, was what made me cry myself to sleep, particularly when she added a “ttyl” at the end of the conversation. I hate you so much, Betsy, I hate you so much.
7. Sherbet
Notice that there is one “r” in this word. Good, now pronounce it like there’s one “r” in this word.
8. Whole ‘nother
This one really shouldn’t be here because I use it all the time. Actually, never mind, it should be, because I get mad every time I say it. And I say it a lot. Where did this come from? Whole another isn’t even right, let alone making it a contraction. But what else communicates the same thing? Whole other has a completely different meaning. Help me with this one, what can I say to replace it from my vocabulary?
9. Change Slang
Fitty cent. Why, why, why? Why would you ever say fitty cent? Where did this ridiculous slang come from and why has it been allowed to continue to exist? Why hasn’t the government done something about this? I think this will be one of the major issues in the next presidential election.
10. Good-vs-well
Ok, ok, ok. I know I do this one all the time. So it really shouldn’t be on this list on my personal pet peeves, especially cause I don’t get mad when I say it. However, in my defense, I only use it in one situation. When I am asked, “How are you doing,” I often say, “I’m good.” Now, I’ve never told anyone this, but I don’t mean, “I am doing well.” What I’m saying is, “Damn, I’m good!” I’m just making sure everyone knows how awesome I am every time they ask. You know how it is – Oh Lord it’s hard to be humble when you’re perfect in every way.
1. Expresso
Now, for you non-coffee drinkers out there (so basically everyone reading this except maybe Mom), this is actually spelled espresso. Notice that there is no “x” in this word. If anyone asks me for an “expresso truffle” at work again, I think I might kill them. If any of you EVER say expresso around me, you won’t live long. You’ve been warned.
2. Adverb problems (no ly)
This is a favorite of Andrea’s. “He doesn’t take me serious.” Hello! There is an ly on the end of that! “He doesn’t take me seriously.” Please add the ly on the word seriously! Serious.
3. Snuck-vs-Sneaked, the perpetual war
Now, when you search for “snuck” on www.dictionary.reference.com, you get, “verb, sneaked or snuck.” However, either dictionary.com is wrong or snuck is a newly added word to the English vocabulary. It has always been sneaked, but snuck has been used so many times, no one even notices anymore. Sneaked sounds wrong now! Snuck is a misspelled word in Microsoft Word as well. Either way, I don’t like it so it shouldn’t exist. So there.
4. Anyways
This is one that I fell prey to for years. Tom pointed this out to me - “anyways” is not actually a word. The correct word is “anyway.” No “s” on that word. This is something that everyone does, but they’re wrong. And I’m right. Boo yah!
5. Boo yah!
I hate it when people say boo yah.
6. Chat Jargon (especially smileys)
This I can thank Betsy for. As I was chatting with her last night, she threw a smiley my way, thinking it would be cute, or perhaps funny, or maybe just entertaining somehow. What is actually was, was what made me cry myself to sleep, particularly when she added a “ttyl” at the end of the conversation. I hate you so much, Betsy, I hate you so much.
7. Sherbet
Notice that there is one “r” in this word. Good, now pronounce it like there’s one “r” in this word.
8. Whole ‘nother
This one really shouldn’t be here because I use it all the time. Actually, never mind, it should be, because I get mad every time I say it. And I say it a lot. Where did this come from? Whole another isn’t even right, let alone making it a contraction. But what else communicates the same thing? Whole other has a completely different meaning. Help me with this one, what can I say to replace it from my vocabulary?
9. Change Slang
Fitty cent. Why, why, why? Why would you ever say fitty cent? Where did this ridiculous slang come from and why has it been allowed to continue to exist? Why hasn’t the government done something about this? I think this will be one of the major issues in the next presidential election.
10. Good-vs-well
Ok, ok, ok. I know I do this one all the time. So it really shouldn’t be on this list on my personal pet peeves, especially cause I don’t get mad when I say it. However, in my defense, I only use it in one situation. When I am asked, “How are you doing,” I often say, “I’m good.” Now, I’ve never told anyone this, but I don’t mean, “I am doing well.” What I’m saying is, “Damn, I’m good!” I’m just making sure everyone knows how awesome I am every time they ask. You know how it is – Oh Lord it’s hard to be humble when you’re perfect in every way.
Sunday, May 27, 2007
The Box (#2)
Read #1 First!
The walls surround me. Here, I am by myself, I am alone in my own head. I am in the world, but not of it. I’m not aware of my surroundings, but can never escape from them. Here, nothing touches me. Here, everything touches me.
I run across the room in a frantic rush. I hit one of the walls, rebound and sprint toward another wall with no thought but speed. Nothing can stop me and nothing tries. My heart pumps and my pulse races to match my legs. My frenzied running leads across the entire room as I throw myself around this box. I catch a glimpse of green and my back aches from the tree its up against. I adjust, and move a little to ease the little pain. My thoughts slip through my fingers as if they had been oiled and greased. I run.
I stop. I breathe. My heart tries to slow down. My breathing is still coming in short bursts and I am having trouble focusing. Again, I adjust so my back will stop hurting. I slowly stumble to the center on my box, not really noticing the walls but always knowing they are there. I stop and look towards the middle. Fear slowly fills me, infiltrates my lungs, speeds up my heart. Why have I stopped!? I can’t ever stop!
I’m off again! I sprint 5 steps to the left, 5 back to the right. I pause for a split second, then dash forwards and to the right. Wait, sprint, wait, sprint. I pray that nothing can stop me, but my fear promises me that it will, that I can never escape. I run faster, even more frantically. I can’t think from the fear. I can’t stop from the fear.
But I stop again. My eyes dart from trees to grass to flowers, unseeing. I try to think, try to clear my mind. My hands rest against one of the walls as I shake my head. I try not to think, knowing it will only bring the fear back in strength. I feebly try to force my way out my box, but know that it is useless. I stand there as if in shock, leaning against the wall. Sweat drips down my face, off the tip of my nose and the edges of my glasses.
A splash of color slowly floats past my vision and I slowly bring my blurred eyes towards the center again. I sprint at one of the walls and fling myself against it, pounding against it. I realize it isn’t sweat dripping from my glasses, but my own tears. They fill my eyes, clouding my vision as I look at the park through my sunglasses. It’s so bright out today, even in the shade. The butterfly that just floated by my face lands on my knee as I continue to punch the wall, desperate for release. But there is no weakness here, only the impossibly strong walls of my own desperation and fear.
The butterfly still rests on my knee, slowly raising and lowering its wings. I adjust my glasses, hoping no one nearby can see my tears. My mind is aware of my true surroundings, telling me there is no box, no cursed walls, but I feel the walls close in, ever tighter. I absent-mindedly brush away the magnificent colors on my knee and try to think of a way to get out of the room. My body sits in the park, only plants and grass and small animals surround me. My mind rushes from corner to corner, unable to break free of its own confines. I struggle to escape from the walls of my own brain, even as I sit in peaceful solitude.
But I can’t. The beauty and calm of the park around me have no effect. The peace of the world around me can never change the fear and anger that war within me. I just can’t escape, no matter how fast I go, no matter how hard I hit. I hate this. I hate this room, I hate these walls more than anything.
The walls surround me. Here, I am by myself, I am alone in my own head. I am in the world, but not of it. I’m not aware of my surroundings, but can never escape from them. Here, nothing touches me. Here, everything touches me.
I run across the room in a frantic rush. I hit one of the walls, rebound and sprint toward another wall with no thought but speed. Nothing can stop me and nothing tries. My heart pumps and my pulse races to match my legs. My frenzied running leads across the entire room as I throw myself around this box. I catch a glimpse of green and my back aches from the tree its up against. I adjust, and move a little to ease the little pain. My thoughts slip through my fingers as if they had been oiled and greased. I run.
I stop. I breathe. My heart tries to slow down. My breathing is still coming in short bursts and I am having trouble focusing. Again, I adjust so my back will stop hurting. I slowly stumble to the center on my box, not really noticing the walls but always knowing they are there. I stop and look towards the middle. Fear slowly fills me, infiltrates my lungs, speeds up my heart. Why have I stopped!? I can’t ever stop!
I’m off again! I sprint 5 steps to the left, 5 back to the right. I pause for a split second, then dash forwards and to the right. Wait, sprint, wait, sprint. I pray that nothing can stop me, but my fear promises me that it will, that I can never escape. I run faster, even more frantically. I can’t think from the fear. I can’t stop from the fear.
But I stop again. My eyes dart from trees to grass to flowers, unseeing. I try to think, try to clear my mind. My hands rest against one of the walls as I shake my head. I try not to think, knowing it will only bring the fear back in strength. I feebly try to force my way out my box, but know that it is useless. I stand there as if in shock, leaning against the wall. Sweat drips down my face, off the tip of my nose and the edges of my glasses.
A splash of color slowly floats past my vision and I slowly bring my blurred eyes towards the center again. I sprint at one of the walls and fling myself against it, pounding against it. I realize it isn’t sweat dripping from my glasses, but my own tears. They fill my eyes, clouding my vision as I look at the park through my sunglasses. It’s so bright out today, even in the shade. The butterfly that just floated by my face lands on my knee as I continue to punch the wall, desperate for release. But there is no weakness here, only the impossibly strong walls of my own desperation and fear.
The butterfly still rests on my knee, slowly raising and lowering its wings. I adjust my glasses, hoping no one nearby can see my tears. My mind is aware of my true surroundings, telling me there is no box, no cursed walls, but I feel the walls close in, ever tighter. I absent-mindedly brush away the magnificent colors on my knee and try to think of a way to get out of the room. My body sits in the park, only plants and grass and small animals surround me. My mind rushes from corner to corner, unable to break free of its own confines. I struggle to escape from the walls of my own brain, even as I sit in peaceful solitude.
But I can’t. The beauty and calm of the park around me have no effect. The peace of the world around me can never change the fear and anger that war within me. I just can’t escape, no matter how fast I go, no matter how hard I hit. I hate this. I hate this room, I hate these walls more than anything.
Monday, May 21, 2007
The Box (#1)
The walls surround me. Here, I am by myself, I am alone in my own head. I am in the world, but not of it. I’m not aware of my surroundings, but can never escape from them. Here, nothing touches me. Here, everything touches me.
I run to the across the room in a frantic rush. I hit one of the walls, rebound and sprint toward another wall with no thought but speed. Nothing can stop me and nothing tries. My heart pumps and my pulse races to match my legs. My frenzied running leads across the entire room as I throw myself around this box. My arm tingles, and my back hurts where I hit it against one of the white walls.
I stop. I breathe. My heart slows down. My arm stops tingling and hangs loosely from the slight weight in it. I slowly walk to the center on my box, not really noticing the walls but always knowing they are there. I stop and look towards the middle.
I’m off again! I sprint 5 steps to the left, 5 back to the right. I pause for a split second, then dash forwards and to the right. Wait, sprint, wait, sprint. Again, nothing can stop me.
But I stop anyway. I shake my head in disappointment and walk towards one of the narrower walls. I stand close to the back wall, about in the middle of it, waiting patiently for it to begin again. Sweat drips down my face, off the tip of my nose and off the edges of my glasses.
A blur of blue streaks past my face and I head after it. I must catch it, I must! I do but crash into the corner of two walls. No time to hesitate, run, run! My goggles slip a little as I race back to the middle of the room, blocking my vision for a second. A few short steps and then a stretch with my right hand. The single glove I wear on my hand holds tight as I swing my arm. Hop back up into position again. There’s an opening, there, there! A mistake! I see the momentary weakness and exploit it.
A rest again. I adjust the racquet in my hand, and check my goggles. I take the blue ball, bounce it a few times on the ground. I tap up a beautiful serve into the corner and ready myself for the running.
But it was an ace. So I prepare myself again. Check the racquet, my glove, the goggles, bounce the ball a few times again. I drop the ball and smash it this time. This time it’s a good thing I was ready, a good return and I have to hurry. Speed is once again my only thought, my eyes never leaving that lovely little blue ball that, for the moment, is my entire life. I love this. I love this room, I love these walls more than anything.
I run to the across the room in a frantic rush. I hit one of the walls, rebound and sprint toward another wall with no thought but speed. Nothing can stop me and nothing tries. My heart pumps and my pulse races to match my legs. My frenzied running leads across the entire room as I throw myself around this box. My arm tingles, and my back hurts where I hit it against one of the white walls.
I stop. I breathe. My heart slows down. My arm stops tingling and hangs loosely from the slight weight in it. I slowly walk to the center on my box, not really noticing the walls but always knowing they are there. I stop and look towards the middle.
I’m off again! I sprint 5 steps to the left, 5 back to the right. I pause for a split second, then dash forwards and to the right. Wait, sprint, wait, sprint. Again, nothing can stop me.
But I stop anyway. I shake my head in disappointment and walk towards one of the narrower walls. I stand close to the back wall, about in the middle of it, waiting patiently for it to begin again. Sweat drips down my face, off the tip of my nose and off the edges of my glasses.
A blur of blue streaks past my face and I head after it. I must catch it, I must! I do but crash into the corner of two walls. No time to hesitate, run, run! My goggles slip a little as I race back to the middle of the room, blocking my vision for a second. A few short steps and then a stretch with my right hand. The single glove I wear on my hand holds tight as I swing my arm. Hop back up into position again. There’s an opening, there, there! A mistake! I see the momentary weakness and exploit it.
A rest again. I adjust the racquet in my hand, and check my goggles. I take the blue ball, bounce it a few times on the ground. I tap up a beautiful serve into the corner and ready myself for the running.
But it was an ace. So I prepare myself again. Check the racquet, my glove, the goggles, bounce the ball a few times again. I drop the ball and smash it this time. This time it’s a good thing I was ready, a good return and I have to hurry. Speed is once again my only thought, my eyes never leaving that lovely little blue ball that, for the moment, is my entire life. I love this. I love this room, I love these walls more than anything.
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Hey Mike
The fact that you are deathly ill doesn't excuse you from posting. If your keyboard sticks because you barfed on it, cowboy up and post anyway! Just kidding. Get well soon.
Karla's Crazy Idea
The bear had backed her into a corner formed by enormous boulders, there were no cracks or holes in which to scurry. Confident in securing its quarry, the bear advanced slowly sniffing at the fear which hung in the air.
"This is a crazy idea," thought Karla, "but what else am I going to do?"
She extended her arm towards the bear, her quivering thumb and index finger curled and tense.
Bink. She had done the improbable. She had flicked the bear right in the tender flesh of its black wet nose.
The bear paused, blinking in surprise and then reared back as if it were going to let out a mighty roar. Instead it released a powerful sneeze, covering Karla with thick mucus. Immediately, it reared back again and paused, its eyes closed, its nose towards heaven. The sneeze was clearly stalling.
Karla took her chance, slipping past the distracted bear and running into the forest.
"This is a crazy idea," thought Karla, "but what else am I going to do?"
She extended her arm towards the bear, her quivering thumb and index finger curled and tense.
Bink. She had done the improbable. She had flicked the bear right in the tender flesh of its black wet nose.
The bear paused, blinking in surprise and then reared back as if it were going to let out a mighty roar. Instead it released a powerful sneeze, covering Karla with thick mucus. Immediately, it reared back again and paused, its eyes closed, its nose towards heaven. The sneeze was clearly stalling.
Karla took her chance, slipping past the distracted bear and running into the forest.
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