Archive for December, 2007

Lack-Luster Movies

So, everyone knows how strange and deranged dreams can get sometimes.  I saw the movie I am Legend last night, and I’m guessing that may be the cause for the somewhat sad realization this dream caused in me.

I have now learned that my brain is incapable of thinking of anything truly scary if left to its own devices.  I realized this as I woke up from a rather vivid, a bit frightening, slightly macabre, and a little off-center dream sequence. 

It went as such:

I believe this was a flashback sequence, as the entire time I had the sensation that I was, in fact, in bed.  I was being told about some being who was kind of like the grim reaper with a twist of lemon — quite literally (although, I don’t know how literal I can get when discussing a dream).  He would, in essence, dissolve his victims (using dark magic, of course) into a drinkable liquid.  Each victim had a different flavor – the reaper guy told me later that he had, in fact, had some very interesting-flavored people-nectar (that sounds horrible… Silence of the Lambs, anyone?), including a black-cherry, and Strawberry Daiquiri (a girl from the OC who died in a car wreck episode; Yes, I’m talking about the show, not the place).

Anyway, end of flashback and I’m back in bed, wide awake because, in fact, my feet are still cold.  But I’m still asleep.  You know.  Awake… In bed… In my dream… Yes, this does happen a ridiculous amount of the time, I dream of myself sleeping.  It is VERY exciting, indeed.  SO.  I was wide awake because somehow, I knew the reaper guy was in fact IN THE NEXT ROOM!! (insert horrific violin screech here) I knew because, although the room adjacent to mine is John’s room, I could hear the high pitched screams that are only available in the female ranges.  I came to the conclusion that I was next on the menu, so I did my best to prepare by pulling up the covers and covering my head, but as I heard the screams stop and the reaper going into his opening schpeil as he entered my room (“I’m hardly human, I’ll suck out your life, blah blah blah… Kind of like Team Rocket’s on the Pokemon cartoons) I just HAD to look, as you are NEVER supposed to do when you suddenly find yourself in the middle of a horror movie.  Oh well.

Here’s the sad part.  I could quite literally FEEL my brain trying to think of something scary enough to live up the hype that had been given to this guy throughout the entire dream.  Sadly, the only thing it could come up with was an eerie undulating “black mist.”  A great rip-off of the black mist thing from the popular TV show, LOST.  But the horror didn’t stop, THERE, no!  The mist had to MATERIALIZE into something, and again, I could feel the brain worms working very, very hard, wriggling around trying to find something “hardly human” and REALLY scary.  Sadly, they ran out of time and for some reason, the scariest thing they could come up with was… (insert building violin screech thing you hear in all the horror movies to make you think something REALLY scary is about to happen)… JACK SKELINGTON!  Yes!  The likeable hero from the popular Christmas-slash-Halloween movie, The Nightmare Before Christmas!  His voice was rather like the voice of Dr. Hannibal Lecter (Anthony Hopkins)—”deviously” kind, but a little creepy.  But, it was still a life-size version of Jack Skellington standing right in my room about to suck the life essence out of me, which came in a nice tall glass with a COMPLETE breakfast – I kid you not.

And so, I realize that I can now cross “macabre horror novelist” off my list of possible occupations because I now realize that I am incapable of thinking of anything original and scary.  This may be the plight of countless other horror flick writers, because I have seen WAY too many movies that put pale white little girls in night-dresses with long black hair and black holes for eyes that can kill a full-grown man by simply being creepy. So I don’t feel so alone in my unconcious unoriginality.

In short, watch out for Jack Skellington late at night as you’re cuddled up warm in your little bed, because he JUST might come into your quaint little bedroom as he materializes out of a “Lost” black mist, drinks your life essence and strangles your screams.

J

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My Christmas Adventure

As you well know, most Christmas blogs or stories involve the horrible shopping traffic, not being able to find a parking spot at the mall, or being mobbed AT the mall.  I have no such interesting stores involving that.  In fact, my holiday shopping included nothing more exciting than a bunch of stingey folks that would let me turn left out of the parking lot at Barne’s and Noble’s.  My REAL Christmas story began today, Christmas Eve (although, I AM writing this after midnight, so it is, in fact, Christmas morning as I type away) as I had promised my youngest brother, Benson, that I would take him out to deliver Christmas presents to his friends.  I also had a few gifts to deliver as well, so it was all good. 

After an eventful morning/afternoon of grandparents coming as I was in the process of getting ready, we finally manage to drag ourselves away from the house around three, at which time the Christmas Eve blizzard we had been expecting for weeks was at full force.  Luckilly, the first house was on a street which I knew, but Benson really had no idea where his friend’s house actually WAS.  He knew that it was a few houses down from ANOTHER one of his friend’s house, but, no address. We eventually gave up on that one after making about three U-turns — The first of many, many more.

So, his next friend, Alex, lived in Hooper (pronounce Huper, kind of like the “oo” in “foot”– Say it right or don’t say it at all!), which was only a few cities away, but seemed like states in the blizzard we were driving in because me being the safe, cautious, considerate, careful-with-a-kid-in-the-car driver I am (I am NOT inexperienced!! O_O) I was driving VERY CAREFULLY!! Every time I would stop, the car would do this little wiggle thing, like it was happy that it was snowing so prettilly, but to be honest, it really scared the living daylights out of me.

Anyway, to make a long story short HERE, turns out there are TWO roads named 6150 in Hooper, and we went to the WRONG ONE.  We were wandering around there like idiots, I probably made about 10 U-turns in that HOUR AND A HALF that we were driving around like lost puppydogs chasing their tails.  Benson called his friend, had his friend go out and stand in the middle of the road, and FINALLY, he handed the phone over to me so I could talk to his mother and get better directions. Which didn’t help.  She finally came out to the main road in her big white van where we found her and followed her to their house.  But we got that gift delivered!! We did it!  I was very proud of myself.  Or something.

Anyway, after that “little” trip, I was finally able to go and deliver MY presents.  by now, it was about… 5:30.  Where did the day go?

By now, the snow was about 6 or 7 inches deep, and very pretty.  Luckilly, the falling snow had begun to subside to leave a lovely blanket white snow.  I delivered my gift to Austin with no real ill feelings towards getting to his house (which is VERY well-lit with countless Christmas lights), and reached Mitch’s house with no difficulties.  I delivered my gift, we agreed on going to sushi in Logan on Friday, and I got back in the car and prepared to leave.

Now, Mitch has a very convenient backyard.  His house has a driveway on either side of the house, and both connect in the backyard, which is kind of like more driveway in front of his family’s barn.  They do, though, have grass in their backyard which is VERY difficult to see the border of (actually, impossible) when everything is covered by a lovely blanket of snow.  So, my plan was to go around the back of his house and exit through the opposite driveway to avoid any more U-turns, which I had made plenty of during the previous two hours or so.  Sadly, the other driveway was occupied by two other cars which I had not previously seen, and saw after I had already started turning into it.  So, I started to back up, only to discover that the wheels were slipping and would not budge.  I tried to get the wheels to catch, but to no avail.  I finally called Mitch and begged him to come out and help me push my car.

But alas, merely trying to push the car would be much too difficult.  This horrible situation called for the big guns.  So, Mitch’s father lugged out the (rather large) tractor and hooked it up the the back of my car to pull me out of where I had obviously driven right onto their lawn, and probably made a horrible mess of it, as well.  All the while I was holding my head in my hands laughing at this horribly stupid thing I had done and apologizing over and over for messing up their beautiful snow and making myself look like an idiot and making them come out in the cold and making them go to all this trouble to move my stupid car out of the stupid snow… etc. etc. etc.  You get my drift.  So, they pulled my car out, put the tractor back, and waved goodbye.  Mitch did not disagree when I said what a lapse of judgment had gone through my head when I made the decision to take the path I did.

And then, although I had two more presents to deliver, I gave up on being Santa’s little helper and went home and shovelled my driveway as penance for my lawn-ruining sin.

I now have less of a respect for Santa on his big delivery night.  HE gets to fly around and avoid getting stuck in the snow.  He should try driving MY car one year, see if he’ll still be a jolly old fat man.

Pfft.

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True Girl and Boy Scouters Say they REALLY Don’t Exist…

I have recently come to the knowledge that snipes, do, in fact, exist.  You may be saying to yourself, “Aw, man, I forgot about snipes!!  We had those young’uns CONVICED that they could catch one if they covered themselves in toothpaste!!”  Well. Turns out those “young’uns” were right.  At least in some parts of the world.

Myself, I never actually went snipe hunting.  I found out that their “existence” was false long before I was ever offered the wonderful opportunity to cover myself in toothpaste and dig around in small bushes like a caveman.  But, I was witness to many hunting groups departing for the hunt.  They were always late at night so I was always already “cozy” in my sleeping bag long before they arrived back from an eventul night of snipe hunting.

According to the campers’ folklore, at least in my area, a snipe is a small, fluffy, flightless bird.  It is attracted by the scent of toothpaste and are actually very cute, but hold a nasty nibble if caught, so one must be careful not to actually get bitten. 

According to Wikipedia, though, and I quote, “A Snipe is any of nearly 20 very similar wading bird species in three genera in the family Scolopacidae. They are characterised by a very long slender bill and cryptic plumage. The Gallinago snipes have a nearly worldwide distribution, the Lymnocryptes Jack Snipe is restriced to Asia and Europe and the Coenocorypha snipes are restriced to New Zealand. The three species of painted snipe are not closely related to these, and are placed in their own family, the Rostratulidae.”

So, there you have it.  I guess they’ll have to find some other name for them.  Myth BUSTED!!

(For the complete article on Snipes, go to http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Snipe OR http://uncyclopedia.org/wiki/Snipe for the “folklore” behind the snipe”)

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Intentions?: The Grand Exit

It is official — Newbert has completely completed his obsession with Manzanity C-6 and has moved on to more… Promising ventures.  Ventures that allow him to “cuddle,” “hang out,” and suck plenty of face.  Indeed, Newbert has proven himself to be one of the most low-slung Jacks in the realms of Manzanita.

But, before he found a girl outside C-6, Newbert decided to have a lapse in memory and reverted back to his original Manzanita C-sixter, Jordan, and I learned what it felt like be her during that fleeting three weeks, was one of few people he communicated with and excluded all else.  It is apparent that Newbert is a very linear person and thus only able to think of one thing at a time.

And now, it is sucking face.  That may sound like a harsh term to use for it, but it’s all I’ve got.  See, as I am yet VL, I have absolutely no right to be dissing the makeout scene, so I, in my cynical nature, do all I can to degrade this teenaged recreational passtime.

And so ends the saga of mis-interpreted intentions and ridiculous outbursts of haikus in favor of some serious teeth-cleanings.

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