"Perhaps my search is in vain.

It’s been so long since we looked into each other’s eyes.

I’ve tried to tell myself that it’s my promise that drives me,

But now I can’t be sure.

I told her that I would find her,

That I would follow her to the ends of the earth and beyond if I had to.

I’ve tried to keep my word, I really have,

But she refuses to be found.

I sit alone, wondering if she even existed,

I have to ask those that knew her just to convince myself she’s not a dream.

But still I search, ever wondering what will happen if I find her…

Will she even know who I am?

Again, my mind plunges into the past,

Grasping desperately for the memories of her smile.

On every cross-roads of my mind, her voice echoes eerily like a lost photograph.

If I can find a memory, I will grab hold of it tight.

In times of despair and agony,

In places deep, and dark, when nobody is watching me,

I fall back on the memories of the past, and it gets me by.

It was in one such time, that it was a dream I fell back on,

Like an ancient wall painting from someone you knew to have existed but never met.

And there she was, on the ground before me,

Powerless, and afraid.

I approached her from behind,

And followed her gaze into the infinite white void.

There, before us, were the seven figures of cold justice,

And of what they wished, I knew not.

Limbless, white, and crystalline were they.

As if tangible only thus in this world.

Three council was there on the left, and three right.

But the figure betwixt them was the most terrifying of all, his eyes alit with cold flame.

Of whatever crime they had judged her guilty of,

I, alone, knew of her innocence. She, was afraid, but denied it not,

For she blamed herself for some distant tragedy.

Untrue to my character, I stepped out, before the seven, and spread my arms.

My tiny face defiant, I looked him in the eye,

And his council, also: one by one.

My subtle frame alone stood between them, and her.

And yet, they stood in the air above us, not daring to move.

They were not afraid, nor were they indecisive,

But it was, that they had not power to take her.

As long as I stood before her, she was not guilty,

And they could not take her.

Yes, this could have been but a dream,

But in my distant youth, I could not have imagined something so real.

This is the dream I fell back onto,

And if not the promise, than the dream shall drive me.

I will follow her to the ends of the earth and beyond if I have to."

I wrote this more to myself than anybody else. The dream I spoke of really did happen. I've alwayse been intregued by my dreams, and this one particularly. The Girl in the dream was my childhood best friend. My sister Colleen used to babysit her when we were little and that's how we met. She kept moving around, and eventually we lost touch. The last time I saw her, she expressed to me her fear that we may not ever see each other again. I swore to her that I would find her, and have been looking ever since. That's the memory and the promise.

The dream, as far as I can tell resulted from an early childhood memory with her. I went over to her house...I couldn't have been....six maybe. She was living in a floor-level apartment with her mother at the time. We were walking towards her apartment, when two boys about my age came up and started making fun of me. I was used to it, and it didn't really bug me to be made fun of, but being put down in front of my friend made me angry. The oldest of the two called her by name and grabbed her arm. Even though she was a year older and twice as outgoing, she called to me for help, as if I was her prince charming himself. Unfortunately I was too much of a wuss to do anything about it. She was able to take care of herself easy enough, and didn't blame me for not coming to her rescue, but it tore me up inside. "If not now, than when will I be able to defend the people I love."

After that, I had that dream. For those of you who didn't understand the message, basically the dream took place in an empty white world. She was sitting down in front of seven ominous figures, who seemed to have deemed her guilty of something, and she thought she was guilty. They were getting ready to take her when I stepped out in front of her, even though these guys were like three times my height. It was that dream that modivated me to begin training in the Martial Arts. Now I can confidently say that I can defend the ones I love. And if I can't, I at least have the guts to try. I'm sick of being the push over coward that my nature suggests. That's why I was so determined to achieve my Blackbelt before I found her again. I wanted her to be proud of me. At this point...all I can do is hope.

*EDIT* Tuesday, October 30, 2007. 11:44 PM

http://jtobler.deviantart.com/art/Memory-Dream-or-Promise-68646666

Generally, I like to post entries in here that are more like my writing, but I figure since I'm gonna be gone for a while, I'd better just "update".

My dad figured we don't spend enough time together (mumble mumble), so he's booked the whole next month with stuff to keep us occupied. I'm leaving on a weeklong river trip tomorow, and as soon as I go back, I'm going to EFY (for those of you who don't know what that is, think of it like a weeklong Mormon Camp). The week after that, I'm going on a bikeride for the week. It blows. Anyway, don't miss me, and don't get mad at me for not updating in three weeks. >.<

Dang, two updates in one day. That's gotta be a record, and nobody with a normal life makes a record.

Anybody who lives in Orem or in Lindon can drive up and down the streets with Pray for Tori signs flashing at them left and right. The thing on everybody's mind is, "Who the hell is Tori?" >.< Pardon my vulgar use of french

Make no mistake, I'm the class looser. I've never really met any girls, other than the ones my more outgoing friends introduce me to (that's you Hannah). I never really knew Tori...okay in honest truth I'd never even heard of Tori Shmanski before the signs went up. Hannah knows her a little, or so I've heard. This is the story as I heard it (H, please correct me on any details I misunderstood).

Tori Shmanski, from what I've heard, was one of those perfectsionists. When I'm having trouble mantaining a B+ average, she's upset when she gets a 3.9. She went to my school, and I'm not sure which high school she plans to attend, asuming of course...

Apearently she was in a car accident. Through some sucky chain of events the car ended up in a river or something like that. It wasn't difficult to escape, and nobody was hert seriously in the fall, so no big deal, just wet car right? Wrong.

During the fall, Tori hit her head and was out cold. It took rescue crews about a half an hour to fish her body out. Yes, she was dead, but maybe you've heard that in recent years, "dead" has become a much less definable state of being. Her heart had stopped and she was not breathing. No pulse. Dead, right? They got her breathing again, which started up her other systems, but they were weak and died out again. She recovered again, but she still didn't wake up. As far as I know, she is currently on life support.

They thought she was going to be a vegetable, incapable of brain activity and only alive because of life support, but when they pulled the plug, she was breathing on her own. She stopped breathing almost emediately afterwards, but since she had shown signs of independant life, they hooked her back up.

I havn't heard as to whether or not her brain is functioning, but the "Pray for Tori" signs are still scattered throughout the suburbs. I take this to mean, it could still go either way. I never knew Tori Shmanski, but I am now pooring my heart and soul out to god that I might have the chance to get to know her while in this delicate human life. My mom and I kind of...forgot to do our fasting last week, so I fasted today, and dedicated my fast to Tori. For those of you out there who beleive in god, and even those that aren't sure, she needs your prayers. It's a simple thing to do. Just kneel down in private and talk to whoever you beleive is listeing. Alot of us have problems. Some of us are stuck bringing home the bacon to our sick loved ones who can't support themselves. Some of us are trapped in situations we don't want to face. Some of us struggle with weaknesses and addictions we can't kick. But all of us are alive, and whether or not you beleive it, that is a gift. She's worse off than all of us, she might never see another sunset, or kiss her crush. She may never get the oportunity to get a drivers license, or to make some of the mistakes that we have learned from. She may never be able to take two cruddy jobs at sixteen trying desperately to help her parents, she may never have the oportunity to see some of the things that bring us nightmares, and worst of all, she may never have the oportunity to fall in love, to mary the man she loves, to have a family, to get old, to see her children grow up and have kids of their own. Guys, she may never even see her parents or her grandparents or her best friend again. Is it so much to ask that we try and take five minutes before we fall asleep to ask someone who can help her to keep her with us for just a short season longer?

Many people don't beleive in the Book of Mormon. Members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints regard the book as holy scripture, just like the Bible. Whether or not you belive in it, it can help you understand the nature of god and all things just like it helped me when I was struggling. I found this passage very helpfull. It is taken from The second book of the ancient prophet Nephi, by birth a jew who sailed with his family to ancient america. It is his personal account of the death of his father Lehi, the rebelion of his brothers, blah blah blah. In this passage, he is speaking to the reader of his diary (more or less). It could easily be addressed, "To whoever finds this".

"8 ...For if ye would hearken unto the Spirit which teacheth a man to pray ye would know that ye must pray...

9 But behold, I say unto you that ye must pray always, and not [retire], that ye must not perform any thing unto the Lord save in the first place ye shall pray unto the Father in the name of [the messiah], that he will consecrate thy performance unto thee, that thy performance be for the welfare of thy soul."

And in this case, we could also interpret it to say, "that thy performance be for the welfare of her soul."

When all else fails, do a google search.

Okay, in all honesty, the only reason I'm on mindsay is because of that girl I mentioned in the first post. You see, I was thumbing through an old scrapbook when I found a picture of her and a caption to go with it. Once I remembered how to spell her name properly, I ran a search of all the popular search engines and personal information databases I knew about. A google search lead me to her profile on mindsay, and I used her blog to get in touch with her. In short:

BOOYAH! I FOUND HER!

Recent news, let's see...

I just got off the river trip, and I am really sunburned. I mean, normally I'm not that bad looking of a guy. With a little less lazy, i'd be downright studly, but right now my skin is peeling so much I look like the thing from the pink lagoon. I am ugly...that and I had to cut my beautiful shag for EFY. Between the ugly face and the ugly hair...dang.

It's kind of funny though. I was trying to eat dinner right? Well, since like two layers of skin on my face is completely dead, it's also lost all it's elasticity. So I'm trying to eat Panda express fried rice (i'm addicted to panda food), but I can't open my mouth wide enough. So here I am trying to drink my rice. It's a mess, but it would be quite the comical scene had there been somebody watching.

Other than the burn, the trip went alright. My grandpa used to be a river guide, but he's getting pretty dang old, so we figured this was going to be his last river trip. I liked it, because here were three generations of first born sons on the same raft, just hanging out. It's great, I don't get to spend a whole lot of time with my grandpa, and it was nice to hear some stories of his when he used to float the grand.

There were also two other rafts with us. One was my scoutmaster, his wife, and their two sons (two of the like...fifty they've had. Jeez guys...). The other was actually a three-seater pontoon (sp?), consisting of the decon's quorum scoutmaster, his brother, and his niece. Now, the pontoon doesn't get any splash on the big rapids, so we sort of...adopted Holly (the niece) onto our boat. It was funny to see her metamorphasis. At first she didn't really want to come on this trip. She (and I quote) "would rather be at home with [her] friends shopping and going to the movies". Between me flirting with her, my grandpa flirting with her, my dad taking us through monster rapids and drenching her, and...me flirting with her, we changed her attitude entirely. It's hard to explain. At first, she just kind of sat there, not talking to anybody, feeling sorry for herself. By the end of the trip, she was using the bailer bucket to soak the deer-flies (annoying little moth-like animals that bite, like a mosquito only bigger and more painfull). I didn't even slap them after a while, because I had learned that if I slapped them, she'd drench me.

Other happenings...I guess swiffer's got his drivers permit, and he's too busy with drivers ed to come visit a poor sunburned boy. Scoot's not back from vacation yet, Kyo-kun is still in washington with his mom (can't blame him, his dad's a bbbbbmmmasturd...mustard, yah that's what I was going to say, mustard). Rat's...Rat, in otherwords antisocial, and Fuzzy is too busy reading and sleeping to talk to me. I'm like...going into poking withdrawl. Maybe if she stays busy, I'll be clean and won't have to go to "Poke the Fuzzy Rehabilitation Clinic". I guess she doesn't mind though, she just poked me back, so I guess we're square.

I am seriously stoked about finding Alisa though. I'm just not sure where to go from here. I feel like Anigo Montoya (sp?). I spent my whole life pursuing one goal (finding her, not trying to avenge my father). Now that I've completed my task, I don't know what to do. I can't just take on the title of the dread pirate roberts, since he'd probably kick my scronny little behind anyway, plus i've got school. In all seriousness though, what do I do now?

In conclusion, the lyrics to my favorite song (no longer applicable, because i've found her. I guess I'll have to pick a new favorite eh?)

It's a land of misunderstood beauty.

The sun rises on a barren land,

Either too hot to leave the shade,

Or else too cold to leave the sun.

Fridged and bare,

Hot and bare,

Either way,

what's to love?

The land is parched,

The soil never fertile,

The ground not fit for building upon,

The sun ever eclipsed.

Yet upon this land

Lies a beauty yet unseen

To those who prejudge

And look only upon this.

Majestic mountains,

Holy temples,

Stone of blood,

Rivers of clover.

Canyons deep and narrow,

Plains green and vast,

Highlands rich with life,

Lowlans rich in culture.

Truly, preserved in the earth

Near my home, a power

Lies dormant that man

Alone cannot awake.

For God has endowed and

Consecrated this land to

His people, just as he

Did of old.

The chosen ones,

Lead from bondage by God's prophet,

Across the harsh plains,

Into a land of extremes.

A tiny sea,

A flowing Jordon,

A dead sea,

Rich in salt.

High Steppes,

Low deserts,

Great Prophets,

And worty saints.

A temple built upon a hill,

Prophesies of the Coming

Of the one true Messiah

To his beloved people.

Two names could be given,

For both fit these images.

Jerusalem one, the Christ of old,

Deseret also, the Second Coming.

So far, I have updated almost every day i've been able to. This is because between the times that I am extrordinarily busy, I am bored and have no life.

A summary of my daily activities:

1) Sat at my computer anxiously awaiting Alisa's reply.

2) Packed for EFY

3) Sat at my computer anxiously awaiting Alisa's reply.

4) Talked on the phone with Scoot

5)  Sat at my computer anxiously awaiting Alisa's reply.

6) Read the next fifty issues of Ozy and Millie

7)  Sat at my computer anxiously awaiting Alisa's reply.

8) Edited the rest of our "Ki" video.

9) Need I repeat myself?

10) Drew and professionalized some more of Azumanga Daioh meets the !US! crew comic, Whookos comic, and Random Adventure comic.

11) You get the fricken Idea.

It's not that I'm impatient Alisa, I just really have nothing better to do.

I really write these things for myself, and it's kinda long so if you really have something to do than read some idiot's journal from EFY (Mormon camp), I would recommend that.

 Day 1: Girls outnumber us 2 to 1. Girls hot. Roommate Josh likes Boston, plays electric [guitar]. Sweet. Can’t call Alisa, don’t have number. Called dad, got number, no time. Burns haven’t healed, still look like a leapper. Called Alisa, she answered “moshimoshi” (nihon-go), just before my dang phone shut off. Called her again, no answer. Josh only new friend thus far, other guys cool, ‘kept for Andrew (makes dirty references).

Day 2: Got less than 5 hours of sleep. Josh and I stayed awake spraying neighbor dorm with Axe. Woke at 5:30 am, showered, scripture study. Classes started. Got great dating notes, I intend to refer to them often. Bro. Tollman (eighteen siblings) is cool. Dance. Tired. Slept. Girls still hot.

Day 3: Slept better, still tired. Called Alisa, came across as a dork. Embarrassed. Classes, more dating notes. Bro Hall (wheels) is cool. Did games. Tired. Had pizza night. Pizza massive, at least for times bigger than a large. Took two to carry box. Unable to fit pizza in door without dumping it sideways. Sick, flatulent. Pizza bad for digestion. >.<

Day 4: Tired, groggy. Started missionary journal during scripture study. Girls still hot. We plan on writing them a song. Variety show. Girl did a song about wanting a Nephite husband, a stripling warrior, and preferably a descendant of Hagoth (she’s Polynesian). Guy did a song about photos. Insane jumprope girl. Movie animation involving jealous murderous robot. Read Harry Potter 6 during free time. Hot pocket for dinner (Morris center full). Call to reverence (invitation to reverence). EFY medley rocks. Testimony meeting. Water works. Holy Ghost ROCKS!

Day 5: Josh was a Jerk last night. Made dirty jokes, drove away spirit. I threatened him with a belt to make him shut up. Lost good pen at morning devotional. Scripture study fun, learned how to liken the scriptures (swap my name in {I already knew this…I just didn’t realize how cool it was to do}). Musical program brought back spirit somewhat. Got lots of pictures at lunch, mostly of Jack and the Tucson girls and of Caitlin and the Park City girls (hot!!!). Dance rocked!!!!!!!...!! Saw Jared (Bo Rai Cho) at dance, we did the “Scoot Gay Dance” which I have renamed the “Queer Kicker”. Tried to dance with the Park City girl in the purple blouse with the Irish features (Caitlin?), but girls kept asking me to dance before I could get close enough to ask her. Danced with girls who claimed to know me, but I had no recollection of. They called my “sleepy”, so I assume I met them at the dance on Tuesday while half asleep. Legs hurt. They played Dragostae Din Tei. Bo Rai Cho and me did fat guy “numa numa” dance. Sang EFY medley again, cried again. Slideshow. Stayed up late for “Lamanite night” (massive Q-hall pillow fight). Found good pen at evening devotional.

Day 6: Packed at 7:00 am. Met girls for one last photo op. Slipped on marble seat thingy and fell into pond fountain thingy. Wet. Embarrassed. Went home.

All right, all right, arightarightaright, HEY! Clap, clap, clapclapclap, Clap, clap, clapclapclap, clapclapclap, clapclapclap,

EFY!!!!

(PS. Intend to copy dating notes at some point. Stand by for tight insight)

Enough Said. The formating was lost when I imported those statistics into Mindsay, just use the judgement, pretend they were aligned side by side.

IV.              What exactly is a date: Bro. Tolman defined a date as any activity done with the opposite gender in which the persons involved are couples. It has become necessary in the recent years to define this, as people are just “hanging out”, and not dating. Hanging out can be considered a date if there are only two people of opposite gender involved, or if the people involved are in units of two and are of the opposite gender.

V.                 Where to date: Be creative and again, plan activities that allow for a good time while getting to know the other person. Do not go places that make either of you feel uncomfortable or may lead to sexual consequences.

VI.              Why do we date: That depends on your age. If you are younger than eighteen, you likely are dating for the simple reason, it’s fun. You learn about the opposite sex and learn how to interact socially…but mostly because it’s fun. After that age, you are probably looking for a spouse. This is not always the case, but is a generalization.

VII.            How do we date: That’s described in all the above sections.

I'm kinda sick of being away from home. Not so much homesick, because that would imply that I havn't been home in a long time. Maybe semi homesick. That would be a good one.

I was skeptical of this whole trip from the beginning. Being in the presidency I'm not allowed to be sekptical so there really wasn't a whole lot I could do about it. First day was cool. That one had alot of down-hill. After we set up camp, we built a dam in the stream that ran through out campsite. It sprung a tiny leak while it was filling up, but it didn't drain. The only thing was, it never got any deeper than fourteen inches. Once it reached that equalibreum, we got bored and everybody left camp to go swim in the REAL resuviour down at strawbery. I stayed behind and used the little pond as a bath. Even after one day, i really needed it.

Wednesday (day 2) was alot more uphill. It was about even up and down until we came to..well..a mountain. At that point, we climbed the whole fricken mountain. As was my goal, I did not ever walk my bike, nor did I take a turn riding in the support vehicle, nor did I attatch to the support vehicle and become a "chuck wagon free-loader". After a brief downhill we began to climb again. At the top of the hill, one of the most experienced among us as far as downhill mountain biking, even more so than the adult leaders...he kind of...well...took a spill. He was the second down the hill and he tried to jump the rocks. We figure that all the different jumps he was going off were loosening up the cap on his front axel, and that one finally jarred it off. His wheel came out from under him and he slid down the trail a good fifteen feet. The gravel ate up his face, his arm, and his knees. Blood was everywhere. His helmet was dented inwards and gravel was jammed in the gap. Had he not snapped it up before he began his decent, he probably would be dead. Anyway, Jordon, who was right in front of him heard a crash and then a long skidding sound and turned around to find Matt (the one who took the spill) on the ground throwing up blood, having what appeared to be a siesure, and making a sound that resembled a dieing cow. He was balling, but only until he woke up. Once he regained conciousness, his ego took over and he held back his tears. We shoved advil down his throat while gauzing up his wounds. It is estimated that he'll need stitches in his face. We've also determined that he had some kind of concussion when he landed, because he couldn't remember the past five minutes of his life and he appeared drunk.

My dad came up to meet us and to play chuck-wagon for the day, and he was able to shuttle Matt down to the point where Sister Ostler was able to carry him back to town and have him stabalized. We sat around for two hours watching the clouds go by and rolling tires down the hill. Finally we were able to ride in to our campsite. My dad and I hung out while we were there, and we had another meal fit for kings courtesy of Jordon and his amazing cooking powers.

In the morning my dad left us to go pick up a Japanese...exchange...teacher...guy. Suzuki Hiro. Pretty cool guy. Anyway, we rode further up more hills. We were at the top of one when it started to rain on us. The rain wasn't bad, but the winds were easily fourty-five mph. I took my place among the smart people who had rigged up a tarp to cover the trailer halling our gear. We just kinda sat ontop of our packs listening to the rain hit the tarp until our steady pounding gave up. We went off on a little mountain trail and rolled rocks down the hill and doing other potentially fatal boy-scoutish activities. We rode back to the main rode and set up camp again. After dinner, a spiritual program, and an hour of stand-up comedy courtesy of our nerds (myself included), we hit the hay. We got up the next morning and went home. I'm tired.

Total milage gained: 100 miles apx.

Wow, a whole week of not updating with nothing else to fill my time. My own personal record. I got to see Alisa again. After eight years apart I actually saw her. This must be kind of how God feels. He tought us before birth, instructed us, shaped our personalities, and then let us go to simply watched how it all turned out. I spent half my life with this girl, playing together, getting to know each other, influencing each other, and basically going throughout life together. Once we set off on our own, however, it's interesting to note how similar we turned out. She's a Nintendo girl, she eats wierd food, she loves D&D, is a Tolkien nerd, and shows many different personality quirks that appear in me.

Okay, so nothing new's really happening. I'm drawing the October Special Edition of Azumanga Daioh meets the !US! Crew, and Scoot's doing the Anime version, drawing the part about Sakaki. I've taken a break Coloring the comic to finish other Randomus projects that have been pending for quite some time, such as the ancient Whookos comics and Random Adventure. The only reason I'm writing any of this done is because I have the sneaking suspicion that the Anime version is going to become quite popular (asuming of course that I ever finish all four years of High School), and looking back on this will be interesting.

I still havn't finished filming Whookos Star Wars Episode W, but I have written up the script for Episode E, which is going to feature Kyo-Kun for the most part. I'm looking forward to seing Kyo's dog cast as Yoda. Still have not begun either "The Final Sword" or "!US! !The First movie! Projects, and I wonder whether or not they'll ever actually come about. I sure hope so, with all the time I put into the Final Sword script. 8=(

For more !US! updates, see http://www.randomus.com

What fun would that be?

By Lunar Bunny

Album: Eat’n Macaroni Outside (dirt from the ground)

I could stop smoking pot

Just like my mommy always taught.

I could stop drinking beer

And give into my fear

I could stop violatin’ parole

And go and pay my ticket toll

But I just don’t see how I could

What fun would that be?

I could stop writing this song,

‘cause it’s gonna take me all day long

I could stop lighting things on fire

And hiding drugs in my dryer

I could stop runnin from the pigs

And lighting all those old ladies’ wigs

But after what me and my buddies been through

What fun would that be?

What fun would that be?

What fun would that be?

My councilor keeps telling me to quit.

Can he not see what that would do to me?

What fun would that be?

I could start going to church

And just let the blue men search

I could just not burn down the school

And actually play fair at pool

I could sit down and read a book

I could go and return those things I took

And I could stop this world war three

But what fun would that be?

I could stop this genocide,

And apologize to all those I fried

I could stop rewiring streetlights

And stop getting into so many fights

I could stop throwing my trash

And taking old fogies’ cash

And behave like a normal kid,

But what fun would that be?

What fun would that be?

What fun would that be?

I live life as if

I only had one more day

What fun would that be?

What fun would that be?

What fun would that be?

I could stop watching TV

I aint doing what god asks of me,

But what fun would that be?

***

Kyo, Zatch, and I wrote this song during a transitional period of my life. In all honesty, we really aren't druggies, but I didn't complain when my Dentist left me under the laughing gas for a half hour. Hey, if he has a bad memory, more power to me right? jk

***SPOILER WARNING! THOSE WHO HAVE NOT READ HARRY POTTER 6 SKIP THIS POST***

Okay, my dream catcher wasn't working last night.

411, when I have a dream that carries with it certain sensations, I am driven to write them down. This is one of the more...bizzare ones.

It started out as if a movie preview. It was the sequel of a dream that I had just finished. All I remember about that dream was that I was on the beach hanging out with some Scottish guy being shot at by some psycho dude. When I was in the water, I found a huge lump of pure gold, and gave it to my grandmother. The next dream, the one I’m really writing about started long after. I had grown up, my grandmother had died, and left my uncle with the gold, and he built a commercial empire using the gold as his basis.

            The dream starts with me approaching him along with a Girl who I seemed to know pretty well, her younger brother, and scoot was in there somewhere. We were standing on this futuristic bridge thing that lead into the upper levels of the empire headquarters. It began with us trying to infiltrate the facility of my uncle (at this point we had turned back into teenagers). Once we got in, we used the elevators (pretty screwed up ones) to eventually get to the first floor. When we were there, we saw a bunch of employee/private school students (the building served both as their workplace and their brainwash facility). Among them was…Data, from star trek. I had to tell scoot not to talk to him and he replied, “I know”.

            Scoot and I, having left the girl and her brother somewhere (might have been captured, not sure exactly), proceeded to pretend that we were among the students. We were wearing their clothes and talking on cell phones. I reached in my pocket to see if there was a palm pilot there (because the previous occupants of that shirt was a nerd, like everybody else in there). When there wasn’t, some kid asked if I had lost a Palm Pilot. I hadn’t, but I answered yes and he through me a palm. Somehow we were caught, and the headmaster (who I’m assuming to be my uncle) threw us out in the street. Walking home with a defeated feeling, we spotted somebody who looked like Dumbledore…hey, it’s my dream.

            Both knowing he was dead, we rushed over to him in a hurry. It turned out not to be him, just a guy who looked like him. He was tanner and had no mustache, just a long wizards beard. He said, “Know, I’m not Dumbledore. I hear there was some guy over in Britain who got wacked by this name. Really liked sweets, apparently. I looked up at the sign of the restaurant we were standing under. With tears flowing openly, I heard

Dumbledore’s voice echo in my mind. I saw the cherries and the bananas and the ice cream in the sign, and I heard his voice describing to me his favorite treats. I looked around, and realized that Scoot was no longer with me. I was suddenly afraid and rushed back to the big building.

            Nobody was hanging out inside as they were before. It looked as if they just up and left, leaving everything skiwompas and unkempt. The table that the headmaster was sitting at was overthrown. I went out back (yes, the skyscraper sized building had a back yard), to find maybe a dozen bodies, mutilated and steaming on the ground. I yelled for Scoot, fearing the worst. When he came to me, he greeted me with a terrible snarl, as if the Swiffer call had gone mental. He proceeded to attack me. He wasn’t talking at all, just glaring, with eyes that weren’t his. He still looked like himself, but those eyes. I didn’t know at the time, but as I’m sitting here writing I realize that I’ve seen eyes like that before. When his favorite Anime creation Takaida goes mental like that, murdering at random, lusting for blood, he gets those eyes. The whites become black, the iris becomes yellow, and the pupil glows a dark red. His eyes were like that, only bloodshot on top of everything else. He had become dark light. He was taking his rage out on the bastards, who in fact had nothing to do with Dumbledore’s death. He didn’t even recognize me. It was as if some evil power had overcome him entirely.

            There I was trying to block his attacks with the shinai (we were still sword fighting), and I was trying to reach his inner self, the lump of a friend that I knew. He showed no signs whatsoever of reaction. I continued this process of defending myself, trying not to hurt him, but trying to reach him. I don’t know what happened, because my mom woke me up just then.

***SPOILER WARNING! THOSE WHO HAVE NOT READ HARRY POTTER 6 OR PLAYED FINAL FANTASY 7 SKIP THIS POST***

I think that I have only cried openly four times since my testostorone kicked in. Once was at EFY, on thursday night's devotional (the holy spirit is indeed a powerful thing), once when Aeris died (I already knew that was going to happen, but nothing prepares you for it), again at EFY the next year (the spirit was even more powerful than it was last year), and again when Dumbledore died. The sad thing is, I think Dumbledore's demise has scarred me internaly. Sure he doesn't actually exist, but to me he was more real than some of the things this reality has shown me. I suppose that's why I delight in fantasy so much. To me, the fruits of the imagination are my reality. I've always let my imagination run away with me, and I always will. To me, Dumbledore was as real as my own father.

So, my ego wouldn't allow me to stain anything but the inside cover of the book, so once I put it down I began the complicated process of suppressing my weaker parts; only to realize that they regurgitate and haunt my dreams. I've already written about my dream two nights ago, but I had yet another dream last night. This one was hardly a nightmare, in fact I rather enjoyed it, but nevertheless, dumbledore was a part. Much as he aided Harry in his evergoing quest to fight the imortal murderer known as Lord Voldemort, he aided me and my friends in our quest to travel the dungeons and fight the evil Lord Gannondorf. I remember very little, only that I fought him once in a firy battle arena, and again in a snowy valley. Dumbledore kept opening portals to fight other evils in alternate dimentions. Traveling through the portals was like Cave-in at Seven Peaks watter park, only more colorful and more sensational, like being spun so fast your face flaps. To get into the snow-covered valley, we had to travel through a dark portal, which resembled a cast-iron cylendrical cage with a cast-iron bar sphere mounted on top. Inside was swirling energy, constantly changing colors and resembling the design of a candy-caine.

Anyway, if I lost anybody...good cuz i'm just as lost. If nobody really cares...than you ought to have thought of that before you read my blog. I'm stupid. I just revealed to everybody who reads this that I am in fact not as shallow as I make myself appear, and that in fact I have been mentaly scarred by something as stupid and trivial as fictisious charicters dieing in front of my eyes...or mind's eye/

School should die. But at least no packets this year.

Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for High, but freedom is a fleeting thing I fear.

To see your friends again is cool, but we have no classes together.

You can meet new friends at a new school, but preppies are worse than stormy wheather.

Nihongo Yosh. To yosh Park.

But I fear that geometry will be way off the mark.

Can't say I miss Mower, or any administrator.

But hour after hour, I'll sit and think of later.

Why must every principal be fat or gay or bald?

If this new guy aint much better, I'll be quite appaled.

After all the good times, and fighting all the jerks,

Now I have to be tollerant and find out all their quirks.

Life'll always get better, or at least that's what they say,

But the only motto I live by, keeps me going day to day:

"Life sucks then you die."

~Aerosol

School should die. But at least no packets this year.

Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for High, but freedom is a fleeting thing I fear.

To see your friends again is cool, but we have no classes together.

You can meet new friends at a new school, but preppies are worse than stormy wheather.

Nihongo Yosh. To yosh Park.

But I fear that geometry will be way off the mark.

Can't say I miss Mower, or any administrator.

But hour after hour, I'll sit and think of later.

Why must every principal be fat or gay or bald?

If this new guy aint much better, I'll be quite appaled.

After all the good times, and fighting all the jerks,

Now I have to be tollerant and find out all their quirks.

Life'll always get better, or at least that's what they say,

But the only motto I live by, keeps me going day to day:

"Life sucks then you die."

~Aerosol

 Update later. I'd have updated already, but i'm preparing a butt-loader post, so y'r'all g'have to be patient.

This is a short story that has been accumulating in my mind for a few years now. Actually, as much work as I'm putting into it, it might just end up becoming a novel. Don't know how close this will be to the finished version though. Riley, Aaron, if you run into this, I apologize for my character descriptions. They're probably far from acurate. Just realize, I'm working off of ten-year-old memories. Lexie...I see you every day. I better not get it too wrong.

*** Chapter 2

“You can’t have her!” I shouted through the eternal white void. The seven cloaked giants just floated there, with ominous crimson eyes glaring at me from their limbless torn garments.

The middle of them, the tall, terrible chief inched forward, and up, giving me the distinct impression of his authority. He spoke; his wicked, cold, yet coherently human voice pierced me and spread like poison, until fear gripped every particle of my soul: “Joshua, we do not intend to harm you. Step aside, and let us have the witch!”

His voice was calm and collected. Still was it terrible, but it was not angry. His intonation suggested an imperative, yet he did nothing save it were glare through me at the cowering figure behind my spread arms. I looked behind me, to see Lexie spread out on the ground, her ebony hair drifting in the wind. Her rich, brown eyes gave me a look of terrified pleading. It was an eerie sight. Lexie Knudson did not cower. This sight only strengthened my resolve.

I turned back to the seven sages. The center figure still hovered in the air, awaiting my answer. “You can’t have her!” I repeated, trying my hardest to mask my fear. I swallowed a lump. “…You won’t have her.” I braced myself. I was sure they would brush me aside in a moment, and take her by force. They didn’t move. They weren’t afraid. I knew they wanted to. Something prevented them.

I was struck by an awesome revelation. It was me! They couldn’t take her so long as I stood between them and her. I took their hesitation to turn back to her. I crouched down, and held her hands together, clasped between mine. Her face had morphed. She was no longer afraid. Her look made me smile. Her eyes were big and threatening tears. A timid smile crept to her lips. She opened her mouth, slowly at first. She eventually formed the words, “Hello Utah! This is Dave and Brad on SOPE radio! Six-Thirty AM and a beautiful morning over Salt Lake! Let’s kick off the day with a personal favorite of Brad’s. This is Deep Purple, here on 640 AM SOPE!”

***

“Damn!” I swore as the chorus of Smoke on the Water blasted out of my little beast of a radio. I threw off the covers and began viciously beating on the buttons to make the little demon shut up.

I stumbled drunkenly into the shower and turned the water on as cold as it would go. As I began the game of Distraction, trying to collect myself while shivering like a spaz. This same dream had plagued my sleep on and off since the beginning of the summer preceding the one that had just come to a sad close. It wasn’t as if it was a bad dream. I was just miffed that I could never finish it. It wasn’t all the time I’d have the guts to stand up to floating sages. More to the point, it wasn’t all the time that Lexie would let me hold her hands.

I didn’t know if I had a crush on her. Junior High had told me off crushes for a while. I’d always liked her in some way or another, but letting my hormones get the better of me had made too many relations with girls awkward, so I held no desires to pursue any relationships that exceeded a first date.

By the time I got my mind around this point, my back was getting numb, so I switched the water to warm and finished up. I pulled back the foggy glass window and dried off. I looked at myself in the Mirror. Heavy prescriptions and careful topical application had done in the last of my pesky acne. My parents made the pact with me that if I kept my grades above a B+ I could keep my hair. Good thing too. That shag full of blonde hair that had been accumulating since the second week of summer was starting to look pretty good, if I do say so myself.

I threw on a random assortment of clothes, refusing to show too much femininity by stressing over what I wore on the first day of school. I grabbed my backpack and headed out into the garage, where my old Rockhopper called to me. Yes, I had a driver’s license, and I had an old ’96 Mazda, but I didn’t see the point in wasting gas money on a two minute trip down to the high school. Besides, my Mountain Bike was a thing of beauty. It was blue with an A1 aluminum frame, double-butted front triangle, disc mounts and the wonderful ride Specialized was famous for. A Manitou Six suspension fork turned the roughest terrain into a baby’s butt, and best of all, she was mine!

I pulled it out into the driveway where I awaited, as I did every day, the arrival of my comrades. Seven twenty pulled around, and with it like clockwork, Scoot, Kyo, and Swiffer pulled around the bend.

“Why do you ride all the way to my house instead of just meeting us at school? You live right next to it.” I said to Kyo.

“Because if you’re going to haul my ass out of bed at six in the morning I’m gonna go on a morning bikeride. B’sides, I’m dead sexy.”

“Yes Kyo, we know,” we all said in unison.

“Let’s get going” offered Scoot.

“Let’s.”

We tore down to street on our respective bikes, fish-tailing around corners and weaving in and out of traffic going an easy twenty. We pulled up to the stoplight at 4th and 16th in the thru lane, and grabbed the tailgate of a little Ford pickup. The light turned green and he took off down the remaining stretch to the school, dragging us every inch of the way. We let go of the tail and tore around the corner of the turn towards Timpanogos High. Wheeling over speed bumps and traffic islands, we pulled up to the bike rack.

Entering the Fo-yei (courtesy of a Canadian mother), we were elated to meet Seagul, among our other friends. Seagul was a year behind us, meaning we hadn’t seen her since the last day of our ninth grade year.

Having friends spread between all three years of High School, our group tended to take up the majority of the foyer. We spent the remaining twenty minutes catching up with each other, when at last (two minutes after the bell rang, of course), Sir Baldy dispersed us to our respective A1 classes.

Just as I started down the hall, the corner of my eye caught something that stuck out to me, and I wasn’t sure why. A tall guy, possibly 6’3”, was talking down to a girl about my age with a long, rich mane of brunette hair, sturdy stature for a girl, and an expression that seemed curiously familiar.

I had no time to dwell on this unfortunately. Circumstance dictated that I go to Pre-calc within the minute. The few disadvantages of High School came far from outweighing the advantages; nevertheless, tardy policies are a putrid thing.

I remember nothing of the three periods preceding lunch, mostly because I had no reservations against sleeping right through a Disclosure Document lecture, which was the general consistency of the day. I vaguely remember A3 being Pako-sensei’s class, and him making a fool of me in front of the new girl I saw in the Foyer, but that’s about it. In Japanese no less. If you’re going to call me names dude, at least have the courtesy of translating them into English. I am speculating, but it would likely be safe to assume when Pako asked me “Tobura-Chan imasu ka?” I answered “¿Que?”

Lunch period came around, and with my Mazda at home, I felt the awful sting of the realization that I would have to wait in line. I’m sorry, did I say line? In all honesty there wasn’t much of a line at THS. You just kind of joined the mass-lump of individuals, steadily working your way toward your target food item.

I continued out to the wall around which the females were seated. Upon seating myself at the crest of said wall. I proceeded to throw my cookie at Miko in an attempt to avoid being transformed into a frog. As Scoot and the others joined us, I caught a glimpse of Lexie sitting near the road. As I stared into her Shiny ebony mane, I couldn’t help but wonder if she still believed. Of course fantasies as blatantly ridiculous as those we once shared were both far-fetched and sophomoric, nevertheless, how could anything be more idyllic?

Without realizing it, I was staring at her. Being slightly elevated on the wall, I wasn’t exactly invisible. I joined immediately into a conversation with scoot, not so much as checking to see if she noticed me. I mentally chastised myself. I couldn’t allow her to see me staring. Bloody teenage hormones had already got the better of me once. I wasn’t prepared to repeat the experience.

A few minutes later, Scott was summoned to recount some Darwin awards moment to Miko. I utilized this opportunity. Now, the reader should understand something. I pride myself in my peripheral vision.  Accordingly, I stole another glance at Lexie, applying my shades to further disguise my intentions. To my surprise, I let my vision rest in the occupied space adjacent to my original target.

There again was the girl from that morning. Upon a more focused research, I again concluded that I had seen her at some prior time. I wasn’t sure when. It certainly didn’t stir any recent memories, at least any within an immediate five-year period. But yet it could not be denied that I knew her at one time. Her bone-structure, the curves in her face. I was sure, in fact, that at one time I had such features engrained so solidly into my psyche as to expel all doubt of her familiarity. The question yet remained, who was she, and where did I know her from?

Now, had my subconscious self not been wholly dedicated to Lexie, I probably would have already guessed this girl’s name long before I did. Typical of my character, however, I consumed myself in irrelevant details, blinding me from the big picture. My next hint came in observing her actions. It wasn’t until this point that I realized that she was talking to Lexie. What’s more, they hugged each other!”

“So,” I said to myself. “Lexie, at least, knows who she is.”

Apparently, I had vocalized my thoughts. I tended to do that often when concentrating. My pre-calc teacher was convinced that I was a schizo, because I constantly seemed to be talking to myself. As soon as I figured that out, I squirmed in my seat, especially when I noticed the attention of the two shift in my direction.

I quickly turned my attention to my Pizza, in a vain attempt to appear as though I hadn’t noticed. Even as I gripped the concept that I was as inconspicuous as a monster Zit on the tip of some poor guy’s nose, the corner of my eye caught movement. Upon focusing, I realized that this girl was walking toward me!

“CHECKLIST!” I screamed in my head.

“Hair? I used conditioner this morning. Check.

Shades? Check.

Bad-a James Dean style pose? Check.

Deodorant? What does it matter? No time now anyway. Check.

Breath? Too bad I just downed my Pizza. No time to pop a mint. TIMES UP!”

She passed over all the conversing bystanders, er, bysitters, and stopped right in front of me, a big smile on her lips. I looked up, feigning as though this was the first time I had noticed her. I opened mouth, still not decided whether to say, “May I help you?” or “’Sup toots?” I never got the opportunity to decide. Without saying anything, she reached up and lifted my glasses off my face.

As soon as the tinted lenses left my vision, I became suddenly aware of my blue eyes, because they were reflecting in hers. We stared deep into each other’s eyes. Within the space of a few seconds, her eye color shifted into a deep blue matching mine. Her long, brunette hair became dirty blonde, almost like highlights. She wasn’t the only thing changing either. The other people were fading away, like an echo of a voice, slowly getting quieter until becoming silent. The school faded, and grassy planes stood in its place. The mountains in the distance became sharper and more jagged. All that remained was me and her, in our true selves, unclassed and free from worldly labels. I further realized her beauty. She appeared to me as though she were glowing. White, ethereal looking feathered wings were tucked behind here bare shoulder blades.

Her face was mirrored in the deep blue of the sky. As she spoke, the face in the sky seemed to cast her voice like a soft trumpet across this hidden valley. “So, Joshua, you are alive. Tell me, has your soul hungered for the piece of itself that cannot be found by mortal eyes?”

Without opening my mouth I answered, “Yes, it has.”

Her comforting eyes had never left mine. We continued to stare into each other’s eyes, as though our souls were inseparable and one, as she spoke again. “Let us discover this thing together. Our fates have been woven together in the mighty, eternal blanket of time. May times be as they once were.”

The smile found it’s way back to her lips, then, slowly, she moved forward, touching those lips to mine. I closed my eyes, and allowed a breath of air to pass from her lungs into mine. As it did so, wings identical to hers sprouted from the same place on my back, stretching to their full length, and then folding in as I lost myself in the moment.

As our lips parted, and I held her in my arms, the elation lingered for an instant as we looked again into each other’s eyes. But the moment faded as she backed off. The landscape began shifting again. The mountains whittled down, the school built itself out of the earth, and the people materialized, for the most part, where they were before. The last thing to change was her. For a moment, she lingered, still in her undefiled beauty. Her ethereal wings spread, until they too faded away, and her mortal form took hold of her soul once again. I realized that she still had the golden hair and the blue eyes; although they had more green in them then they did a moment earlier.

“What are you doing to him?” I heard a familiar female voice utter.

“Relax, it’s nothing I haven’t done before. He’ll be fine in a minute.” Said another, more feminine sounding voice.

“I’m surprised you haven’t given her one yet. I got the impression that’s how you say hello or goodbye after a long time” Said a third voice. This one was most definitely a man’s voice.

“I did,” said the second. “But it was a discrete one. She didn’t even notice.”

“Notice what? You did this to me?” The first voice asked the second.

At this point, my eyes rolled forward and focused on three figures standing in front of me. I became aware I was sitting awkwardly atop that same four-foot high wall I was sitting on before the valley appeared. It just then clicked that there had been no valley. I was sitting here the whole time. The valley was some kind of magic induced vision.

“Here he comes,” said the second voice, this time accompanied by the face of the girl in the vision. She was the middle of the three figures. Lexie was on her right, and the tall guy from that morning was on her left. Upon a closer look at him, I realized that this behemoth of a man was my old childhood friend Aaron! And the girl…

I blushed. I unmistakably blushed. Did they see that I blushed? Yes, they saw that I blushed. Are guys supposed to blush? Is that normal? Either way, it was happening. I didn’t need a mirror to see it. I was as red as a strawberry on a summer morning.

“Answer this honestly,” she said to me, blushing a little herself. “Did you enjoy that?”

I nodded. I nodded twice, and then, with tears burning at my eyes, I opened my mouth. “Yes.” I replied. “Yes…Riley.”

Notes on Chapter two: The dream the author recorded did actually happen, but it wasn’t actually about Lexie. It was actually about a much older and more personal friend of the author, who will be from this point on referred to as TM. Since the author at the point of writing had not seen Riley since Lexie’s birthday in fourth grade, many details of Riley’s personality and physique have been obscured by time. Thus, the character of Riley is portrayed with many of the attributes of TM, since there are many parallels in their characters. The title of SOPE radio was taken from a group of artists whom the author knows personally. For more information see http://www.sopegirls.org

To avoid spoilers, no details on the aforementioned ‘magically induced vision’ will be given. The intent of the author, however, will. This form of vision is also spoken of in chapter one. The intent of the author was not to inspire sensual thoughts in the characters, and indeed, sensual thoughts are the furthest things from their minds. The vision is a symbol used by the author to represent freedom. The vision might be thought of using the ‘Hippie’ methodology instead of the ‘Perverted Playboy’ methodology; the latter of which states that such action as displayed by the characters in the vision sequence represents sensuality and sexual lusts. This is not the intention of the author, and neither is it understood that way by the characters.

I havn't updated in a while. Mostly if I'm on the computer at all, I'm working on my story, the same story of whose second chapter is listed as an earlier post. What's interesting as since I've started writing this story, I've gotten Lexie to talk to me again, being the first time since...sixth grade? Dang I'm old. The other really interesting thing...it's playing out as if nothing ever happened between us. We walk and she talks, just as the universe intended. Just today...and I'm laughing even as I write this...she mentioned Riley. She never used her name, but she asked me if I still liked a certain Brown Haired Beauty who was my friend since I was in diapers (I wasn't, but I should have been still), who moved to Lehi. That sort of narrowed it down. In actuality, I wasn't aware that I ever really liked her that way, but I suppose the thought has crossed my mind. Read Chapter 2 if you don't beleive me. I havn't told her anything about the book yet, and I don't plan to until it's finished. I plan on handing her a published and typeset copy, signed by me, with the words, "Do you still beleive?" written in the inside cover. Maybe I'm dreaming, but lemme dream.

You know, Scoot is always kind of anti-western culture. He's only facinated by eastern Asian cultures, and I fear he doesn't share my patriotism that I cherish. Sometimes, his talk about how Americans have all the preppies and whores and crap, when really, despite the view of Foreigners, America's one of the better ones. America just displays it more because of our freedom and we like to flaunt it. The only thing, I think, that America does worse than anybody else is Crime and Arogance. But these are my people, my bretheren, and I will continue to strive with them till my dieing day. That's why I love seeing the nation pull together to help each other out. When September 11th hit, I still remember how scared I was, but how comforted I was afterwards when I saw the nation pull together to help out in any way they could. After all the arogance and buggerheadedness of my people, they share the same love for each other that I do. I was just beginning to forget that when Katrina destroyed New Orleans. Wow man, once again, my brethren are uniting to help out these poor people.

Some of the evacuees were sent to Utah. Many, when they were told were going to Utah didn't board the flight, knowing the stereotypes. But for the most part, the Katrina survivors are welcoming the change, and even thinking of starting a life here. I'm glad to see my fellow Utahns taking in and housing and feeding these people who are left with nothing. They had a life, and in an instant, everything that made up their life vanished. I can't immagine the courage it takes to keep going. Walter went up to the camp where they are housing most of the Evacuees who were sent to Utah. Walter's polynesian, but he looks black, and he blends in. It's funny, because all his white buddies need him to translate the evacuees' speach. One man was wearing a shirt with the Salt Lake Temple printed on it. He comes up to Walter and askes, "Heyma, wassissweedbuidingonmashat? Ma'adunnowhadahethiherebuidinisyouwannatemema?", which translates into "What's this wierd building on my shirt," in (and I quote) "Blackese". Walter replies, "Well, that there's a temple." The other man then said, "Whachaallyousutahnsgu'besomekindabudhistsosomesuchtingehma?", which basically means, "Are you Budhists?" Walter answers, "Well no, we...we're the Mormons." The other guy flipped out...in a good way. "Mathis'smomonville! This'smormonville! Ma'aaintnevagonnasweatonthishereshatma, notneva! This'smormonville! This'smormonville!" That prase will be forever immortalized in our minds (for those of you slower people, the man was saying, "Man, this is Mormon-ville!")

Anyway, it's good that we can still pull together as a nation. It means that our freedom has a long time yet to fail, because we are not yet past feeling. So long as we can share a common patriotism and love for this country, and continue to stand before god in rightousness, The United Stats of America will be an indistructable, indivisible power on this earth.

To the terrorists who attacked our great nation, this is my message to you.

You have stolen our homes, our places of refuge, our children, our families, our loved ones. You have taken from many of us what you cannot repay. You have sought to destroy that which we hold sacred, and for that, we cannot learn to forget. You have placed in our hearts a deeper understanding of the terrible power of lucifer, the fallen one. What can we do now but await the day when we shall be rewarded for our suffering? Shall we give up? Shall we submit to your will? Should we relinquish our liberty to your tyrant ways? I say unto you, nay.

For behold, even as the sun riseth in the east, even as the wind bloweth the trees, and the storms rage in our minds and in our hearts, we shall be strong. Our liberty was bought with the blood of the American dream, by those who dared stand against the evil one. Do I tell you this in hopes of changing your heart, and softening it before our god? I say unto you, nay. For behold, your hearts are cold, and you are passed feeling. This, because the evil one has hold of your hearts, and he bindeth you with strong cord, that none might break save God alone. And behold, God looketh upon those who seek to take away the freedom, the liberty, and the lives of his people with anger, and with hatered. Behold, he is our God, even Jehovah, who created the world in six days. He came unto us and saved us from the bonds of death. You knew him once as your brother and your father, but the day has long past.

You beleive you are in the service of your God even as you comit atrocities against him. For behold, you do unto his children even as you do unto him. You persecutest your God and cause that he be smitten, and for this, he shall smite thee, yea, and great shall be the smighting thereof. You shall kneel before him in the last day, and his sword will hang over you lest you repent now, and humble your heart before him. For he that is stiffnecked and seeks to take away the lives of his people shall surely be brought down to hell. Yea, even a curse be upon you, for even as Abraham smiteth the serpent with five stones, let your own people smight you with five thousand, yea, five hundred thousand, even until you shall be broughten down. This because you have sought to smite the innocent children of Jehovah. We will always remember those who gave their lives that we might be, and be happy, and you cannot take this away from us, for behold, none can. We are America, and we say unto the world: Let freedom ring!

I was born in North Bay Ontario, in Canada, and moved to Orem Utah where I've spent my whole life since I was eight months old. Ever since then, I've been in the same ward. In the LDS church, for those of you normal people, is devided into areas, stakes, and wards. A ward is usually about three to five hundred members in Utah, or mormonville, as I like to call it. The wards in our stake were getting too big, so the stake presidency just came out and said, "Okay, we're making your cal de sac (sp?) part of a new ward."

Now, why would I be telling you this? What does it matter? Please try to understand. At this point, I have been alianated from seventy percent of my brethren. My best friends, my gang, we don't get to see each other at church on sundays anymore. We don't attend ward sports events and mutual activities together every week. And for those of you who know what church ball is, it's basically mormon basketball, only it's comparable to the LA riots. Parents are brutally beating the parents of opposing team's captains. The captains are more like QBs, what with the tackling and the play calculation. It's a mess. Now I'm with people who were once my mortal enemies. Now my fellow priests and teachers ARE MY MORTAL ENEMIES! And for people who move around all the time, this is nothing, but my earliest memories begin in this ward, and stay here throughout my life. Think of how life changing it is!

Mind you, our cal de sac is a pretty tight-knit group. The fact that we're still together is great. Me and Morgan are Biker buddies now, and we have matching leather jackets too, so we can kind of hang. And really, God's blessed me, because both Jenny Rife and Kimberly Bringhurst are in my neighborhood, and I know they were the kryptonite of every church ball player in the old ward. I'll flert with them just to spite the old quorum presidency. *Evil laugh* BWAHAHAHAHA >:)

It's dark. It's cold. I'm alone.

Some people can know this place

Some people can love this place

But I have known light, warmth, and comfort.

To me, this is hell.

After all, isn't this what hell is?

It wouldn't be so dark if hell

wasn't the only thing I found in my future.

What can I do? How can I ever escape?

I don't know where I am.

I'm lost.

Where is the light I was promised?

The tree ignites like a white flame

Burning nothing, but pointing me

The tree is hope, it is light, it's freedom

Freedom from this awfull hell.

I have wandered so far

Since the last time I saw

That light, that wonderful tree

But now, can I ever find the way?

I crawl desperately, wandering

Ever toward the tree.

The blackness will not let go.

The hands of the hated grasp my ankles.

I fall. I kick pathetically at the hands.

Their grip is firm, and it clings tighter.

It pulls, and I fall again.

Again and again, and I cannot be free.

An angel is come from the light.

The light of the tree rests upon me

And the angel smites the hated one,

And at last I am free.

I stumble toward the tree,

Wondering if being in the darkness

For so long as made me undeserving

But the tree calls to me, and I come.

I am reluctant at first,

But I shall not look back.

The evil of the grip has gone

And I will not be in his trap any longer.

From time to time, he reaches out,

Swiping at my robe, begging for my soul.

I don't heed him. I never will again.

I just go further towards the tree.

There is a river. It was once clean,

But it is filfthy where I stand.

Before my eyes, the river opens

And the hands grab me.

He pulls, and I grab hold of the rod,

The last handhold before I fall into

The bowels of the Felldeapths.

But his grip is firm.

I grip the rod harder,

And he pulls harder.

I'm slipping, inch by inch,

But I won't let go. I refuse to.

I know, because I have been shown

That as the tree blosoms, the angel

will show himself again unto me.

I await this demon to be struck again.

God help me.

This is an excerpt from my spiritual journal, a small notebook I make it a habit to write in before/after/during scripture study. I don't know why I'm including this entry in this journal, but I do know that I'm somehow supposed to, so I'm going to.

Saturday, Sept 31, 2005

Today was [the first day of] general conferance. Out of all the available sessions, priesthood session was the only one I got to watch all the way.

I'm in Mosiah 29 [tonight]. I would be much further if I hadn't left my scriptures at schall a few days ago. I still read [every night], just not from where I was.

I am worried about my friends. Their marals are slipping. Their only anchors to rightousness are their parents. I will take my stand, and they will have the chice to quit using foul language and sexual referances or I will find new friends to hang out [and eat] with. I say this with a worthy candidate in mind.

[First of all, let me point out that High School Seminary kicks freshman seminary's butt. Every A day I look forward to walking into that classroom. Every day is as a spiritual experience. It's incredible. One of the revelations I have received in seminary is that although I have a great group of friends, I really need to find some good, mormon guys to hang with. The only good people in my group are catholic, which is embarasing, because mormons are supposed to be the goodie goodies! Grrr! And this revelation has manifested itself more and more as my friends continue to spiral downward with the rest of the world. Anyway, in seminary, i've finally managed to meet a friend whose values match those of my own.]

Aereona (sp?) is the first friend I've made in a long time who truly loves her heavenly father [and wants to continue in the gospel]. Come to think of it, my list of good [people as]...friends is rather limeted. Taylor Campbell, Lexie Knedson, Alisa Green (of course), and now Aereona. Gosh, I'm probably butchering her name.

Don't get me wrong, I love the !US! crew, but I have been subjecting myself to bad influence for too long. If I cannot save them, I will do what I know is right.

Sorry about the language in this post, but I don't feel like being a goodie goodie right now

Should I be held responsible for a choice that I made when I didn't have the capacity to choose anything else? When your emotions become so extreme due to another person's actions and your concious is no longer able to dictate to your logic? And on the subject of logic, how does a perfectly logical pattern lead you to an unethical choice? Sure, maybe from a peripheral view the string of logic doesn't appear very ethical at all. But those in power can't see anything but that narrow view. The only thing they can pick up is how the situation appears to them, and what happened from their own perspective. They can't understand. In that situation, they would have done the same thing, or even worse. I'll bet I showed an amount of self control that few others can. I suppose that I can take pleasure in: When it's all said and done, this will be just another story. My next move is to get really fast at running, that way this will won't happen. If the kid is dismembered and can't even remember what happened, then this situation won't have to repeat itself. I've denied myself the pleasure of squeezing the life out of every poor sucker who thinks that they can do whatever the hell they want just because little Tobler is fat, weak, slow, and worse than anything else, different. I'm sick of it. They're going to have to lock me up to keep me from defending myself. It's been bottling up inside me for fifteen years, and in the few fights i've been in...well I have no regrets. There's nothing quite as refreshing as giving somebody something to think about for a while. I don't have a behaviour problem, it's the world who has a behaviour problem, and the world chooses to blame he who does something about it. It's not my fault when somebody pushes me over the edge. Nothing can prevent me from doing what seems totally natural, and thus, there is no way that A) I can be held responsible for my actions, and B) My actions can possibly be wrong. I've been taught all my life that if I do something wrong, I'll feel the sting of guilt. So far that's been true. The thing I don't understand is this: I am told that it is wrong to try and solve the problem with violence. Why then does it feel so right to do so? Any other solution to the problem feels empty and it never actually is a solution. I can't just turn to some kind of authority to solve my problems. I can take care of myself, or I would be able to, if the freaking law would stay out of it.

And perhapse the worst thing is that I can't use any of this to justify my actions. Did I inflict any violence on anybody? Regretfully no. The bastard wuss doesn't have the guts to fight me. He just takes sadistic pleasure in seeing me pushed to the edge, and over the edge, until I beleive the only solution is to remove his head, and then I can't bloody catch the bitch! He knows that if I ever did, there would be blood up and down the halls. I'm not usually like this. I don't think that violence solves anything...but that's only my thought patterns when I have the capacity to think. When you're pushed to the edge of insanity, the only thing on your mind is how to inflict the most pain on somebody, and your nature is irrelivant or nonexistant.

Of course society tells us that we should have some kind of impulse control right? But no human has enough self control to resist such impulses. The english language doesn't even have a word for the kind of anger that you feel. Maybe I'm wrong, maybe everbody can handle that kind of emotion and I'm just insane. I'm unfit to live. I can't even be counted among humans. Why don't they just lock me up? Oh yeah, because I'm not safe in there either. I'll cut the prison population in half. I've always wanted to have my own fluffy room.

Dude! I married the coolest female on the face of the earth! We all got together to watch Mortal Kombat for Swiffer's birthday. Originally we were going to watch Final Fantasy VII, Advent Children, but square delayed it...again. This is about a week after the filming of Statistic Attack Part 2, the one in Goblin Valley. Okay I'm ranting. So we all get together, and she shows up and helps us set up in the back to watch the movie. It turns out she hadn't watched it in freaking forever, so it was that much cooler. We lay out on the grass during the movie. She kept trying to throw the blanket over me, but it turned into a contest of who could stand lower temperatures. Neither one of us wanted to loose, and both wanted to be the gentleman and give up the blanket. We are so weird.

After the movie, we left everbody in the back yard while we climbed our old wedding tree and relived moments from our past. That was the best part out of all of it. It's such an irony that in a short five years consisting of occasional visits, we were able to influence each other so much that if you took us apart completely and gave the wind eight years to weather us down, we'd be completely compatable after all that, despite all the change. It's like all the same changes in charicter and interest have taken place, but what remains is the friendship we shared so many years ago.

It's weird. I don't know how it's weird, and I don't know what's weird about it. I don't even know what "it" is. Just...being together...sharing a moment from a common past from different views. The reader should understand that something about my childhood has engraven everything that once mattered to me deep into my soul. Stuff like songs from old movies (Transformers the Movie: Stan Bush, Spectre General, and of course good ol' Weird Al. I love that stuff), my dad's old music, old drawings, emotions from times long past, and naturally, the occasional pretty girl. To have a remnant of that is incredible. I don't want to use the word nastalgic (I can't spell worth hanakuso), but something to that effect.

Alisa, the fact that you remember me means more to me than you or anybody can comprehend. I will always appreciate the role you play in my life.

Proving you do not have to be a nerd to LOVE FINAL FANTASY! There is nothing more incredible! Alisa, I'm sorry, this movie proves that Sephiroth is a Vader-killer! Wipe the floor not contest! I have never seen fighting more realistic or powerful or just plain awesome anywhere else ever. End of story. This is a must buy! Everybody go buy it...except for Alisa, because she gets special treatment ^_^

Okay. Here's the lyrics and translations of the original One Winged Angel:

Estuans, Interius, ira Vehementi

Estuans, Interius, ira Vehementi

Sephiroth! Sephiroth!

Estuans, Interius, ira Vehementi

Esutans, interius, ira Vehementi

Sephiroth! Sephiroth!

Sors Immanis, et innanis

Sors immanis, et innanis

Estuans, Interius, ira Vehementi

Estuans, Interius, ira Vehementi

Sephiroth! Sephiroth!

Estuans, Interius, ira Vehementi

Esutans, interius, ira Vehementi

Sephiroth! Sephiroth!

Veni veni venias, ne ma mori facias

Veni veni venias, ne ma mori facias

Veni veni venias, ne ma mori facias

Veni veni venias, ne ma mori facias

Veni veni venias, ne ma mori facias (Gloriasa, Generosa)

Veni veni venias, ne ma mori facias (Gloriasa, Generosa)

Veni veni venias, ne ma mori facias (Gloriasa, Generosa)

Veni veni venias, ne ma mori facias (Gloriasa, Generosa)

Sephiroth!

Sephiroth!

Sephiroth!

Translation:

Burning inside
With violent anger
(x2)

Sephiroth!
Sephiroth!


Burning inside
With violent anger
(x2)

Sephiroth!
Sephiroth!


Fate - monsterous
And empty
(x2)

Burning inside
With violent anger
(x2)

Sephiroth!
Sephiroth!


Come, come, O come
Do not let me die
(x4)

The winged one
Of the lower reaches


Come, come, O come
Do not let me die
(x4)

Sephiroth!
Sephiroth!

Sephiroth!

Okay, now here is the Advent Children version (which by the way includes a sexy metalic guitar solo while maintaining it's orchestrated format)

Okay. I'm not going to argue the need for a moral code. I'm already very convinced of the necessity of a personal moral code of ethics. What I want to know is what you have determined to be your moral code. If possible, please post them in list format. I'm looking to adopt some of these things for myself if I really like it. Here's mine:

1) Women and Girls are princesses.

      A) God counts their tears as a testament against those who make them cry.

      B) It is my responsibility to defend all women in all ways to the laying down of my life, if nessecery. No exceptions.

2) It is my responsibilty to bring the defenseless to their feet.

3) It is my responsibility to bring the tyrants and oppressors to their knees.

4) My word is my blood. An oath must be accomplished or God's vengence be apon me.

5) I am responsible for my ability to do all of the above. If I am unable, it is my own fault.

Post your own personal beleifs and code, if you would. ^_^

Okay, I'm just puting this here for future generations, so I'm not asking any modern bloggers to read it, just so it's here. It's an assignment I did for my history class. I just wanted it here so it might be preserved or something.

Joshua Tobler

The Life and Story

Chapter one: 1990-2005

Joshua David Tobler

Presented to the Social Studies Department

Timpanogos High School

B4 United States History Class

Tuesday, September 29, 2005

A little about me (as of 2005)

Name: Joshua David Tobler

Nicknames: Oh boy. Blackbelt Dolphin, BB, Blueberry Cobbler, Tobler, and many, many more.

Birthday: March 4, 1990

Birthplace: North Bay in Ontario, Canada

Family: My father is David Wane Tobler, who grew up here in Orem. My mother is a Canadian convert to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints: Colleen Mary Tobler; or Brown if you want her maiden name. I have three half sisters, because my mother’s first husband widowed her. Two of them are married, one with three little girls and the other with two little boys. The other is living in California. My one, true sister is engaged.

Hair Color: Depends on the season, usually blonde with natural highlights.

Height: About 5’5”, not quite.

Favorite Color: Depends. Usually green.

Favorite Food: Pizza, with either a combo of Diet Coke and Minute Maid Lemonade, or else Mt. Dew or Mt. Dew Code red.

Favorite Music Group: Tons. Probably The Who, but I drift

Favorite Song: It used to be “On every street,” but that one no longer applies. It used to be my favorite because I was trying to find Alisa Green, my long lost friend and companion. I found her now, so now I have to pick a new one.

Favorite Movie: Any classic Sci-Fi. Probably the old Star Wars movies (IV, V, and VI). I’ll also take Terminator 2 (Edited version, of course)

Favorite Actors: Me.

Favorite T.V. Shows: There’s nothing on TV anymore. Maybe the old Power Rangers, but those aren’t on anymore.

Favorite Book: Tennis Shoes among the Nephites and series by Chris Heimerdinger, or maybe Broken Sky by Chris Wooding. I guess I just have a thing for Chris’s.

Favorite Story: Final Fantasy VII has an extremely amazing storyline, even though it’s a video game.

Expertise: I’m a martial artist. I mostly study Tae Kwon Do, with some Haidong Gumdo and Capoeira in my study occasionally. I love to draw, animate, and work on the Computer, and I’m fairly good at all of these.

Birth-Crowning

My Mother was born the 9th of August in the year of our Lord, 1952 in Clinton, Ontario, Canada. She attended a Catholic school most of her life, even after converting to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints in 1969. She married Les Brady and had three little girls, before Les became critically ill and later died.

            My Father was born and raised in Orem, Utah. He served a mission to Ontario, Canada, where he met my mother. After returning to Utah, they remained in contact. They met at Ricks College in Idaho, and were later married. They lived for a number of years in North Bay, Ontario, where they had both me and my sister Erin. They later moved back to Orem in 1990, where they could be better fellowshipped by church members. They moved into a house in northern Orem, where I have lived all my life.

            Based on actual video footage of our family in 1990-1991, I can tell that our dollars were stretched. My dad found work at Utah Valley State College, while the two of them, along with help from the oldest of my sisters (half sisters, although they will from now hence be referred to as sisters), ran a nurses cap business from home.

            In 1993, my oldest sister Colleen was married to her childhood friend from Canada, and her personal convert to the church. Two years later, the next of my siblings, Amy was married. This put ease on my father’s wallet. It also made our house seem a whole lot bigger. I also got a bigger room.

            By the time I was ten, all four of my sisters had moved out. This made me the king of the throne, and a much bigger throne at that. My dad had progressed to the Director of his own branch of the technology department of UVSC. We turned my sisters old bedroom into the “guy’s room”, and even built a tree house. This is how it is today.

Early Memories

The earliest memories I can recall are consisted of what was, at the time, important to me. A favorite toy, Amy’s boyfriend singing me ‘A lion sleeps tonight’, crawling over everything I could climb over, under or through. I made it a habit to sleep beside my dad’s bed on the floor every weekend.  I remember Erin finally teaching me how to properly pronounce the “TH” phonetic.

My earliest childhood friend was, without a doubt, Alisa Green. I was two, and she was three, when my oldest sister Colleen began babysitting her for her mother. I found out much later that he parents were divorced, and her father was not able to win custody, although he probably should have had it. Poor Alisa had a fairly rough childhood, and sometimes it felt as if I was her only relief. We lived for the days that she would come over and we would play ‘Party Wave’ (a game in which a small rubber pool was put on the trampoline and more or less bounced into the next life), or a sprinkler game, in which we would put the trampoline right over top of the sprinkler and bounce around, trying not to get wet. We’d climb trees; play on the computer, swordfight, whatever we could think of. I remember we built a fort using a secret compartment under my bed. We attended Chuck E. Cheese regularly. Heck, we got married! What five year old isn’t married to somebody right? But we actually thought we were husband and wife! We were the best of friends for years.

She didn’t get much stability as a child. Her mother had to take work where she could find it, and that meant moving around a lot. Over the years, our visits became few and fewer. From what I gather from talking with her now, she lived in Orem, then in Provo, then in a house in Spanish Fork, where I attended her seventh birthday, and then came and visited me at Nickel-cade in Orem, before living with her father in Oregon. That day at Nickel-cade was the last time I saw her…until the summer of 2005. I made a promise to her in the parking lot of the arcade that no matter how long it took, I would find her. It took me eight years, but I eventually tracked her down.

Other than my memories with her, I didn’t manage to retain much of my childhood. I remember a few of my other friends from church, but nothing quite as significant as my escapades with my beloved Alisa. The few memories I have are as follows: Colleen being married to Corry Aitchison in 1993, where I sat in the visitor center at Temple Square in Salt Lake while they were married in the temple itself. I remember two years later Amy being married to Jeremy Furgas in our back yard. Finally, the Christmas of 1998, when Alisa sent a box of Tinker Toys to me. I was so ashamed I hadn’t thought to give her something.

Family Life

Both of my parents have made family their highest priority. My father works to bring home the bacon, as well as offers countless bonding opportunities, from family vacations to motorcycle rides to Mesa Verde. My mother has always tried to raise her children to be the best people they can be, and to demonstrate a proper moral code. I have always felt able to open up to my parents and talk about just about anything with them. I am going to try and be the same kind of father to my children as my father is to me. I will also try to find a wife who has the same values as my mother.

Although three of my four sisters were born under a different father, we have always been a tight-knit crew. There was such an age barrier that I never really got to know them very well, but they always looked after me, even from day one. My oldest sister married within the church and operates within the church actively, and plans to raise her children to be like her.

My sister Amy fell away from the church, but is a great person still and we still see her quite a bit. She was married in 1995 to Jeremy Furgas, and has had two little boys since. She lived in the valley for a while, but eventually moved up north to Salt Lake, where she lives now. Laura also fell away from the church, but we still love her. She’s extremely talented and incredibly smart. She did a number of music jobs for a while, but eventually moved out to California to do financial work. We don’t see her much, but we’re looking forward to Christmas, when she plans to come home. Maybe it’s a far-fetched hope, but I want her to move back.

My sister Erin moved up to Salt Lake, where she met Erik Johnson. They are going to be married next month. I wouldn’t say Erin fell away from the church, but she is more or less inactive. It makes me sad, but we’re still good friends. Now I’m the only one living at home. It’s not that bad, but I still would have liked a sibling that was close enough to me in age that I would be able to just hang out with them. But as I continue to drag farther and farther from the day of my birth, the distance between us is steadily shrinking.

With all my family gone, a day in family life is like so: I wake up, I shower and get dressed, go downstairs to eat breakfast with the family, we study scriptures together, and then I head off to school. I go and suffer at school, and then come home. I do my homework before dinner, eat dinner, and do some kind of exercise after dinner, either Kyukido or Swimming, depending on the day. I come back, do any chores that I still have, personal scripture study, then hit the sack.

Education

My first educational experience was in Pre-school. I was four, and I attended a school run by a lady in our ward, Sister Eastman. The neighborhood favorite of the parents, many of the friendships I made while enrolled remain with me today. I don’t remember much of those days. I remember when I learned about a balloon and static electricity and how it makes your hair stand up. I remember learning about how pupils dilate, and how to make a pin cushion. I made a Christmas tree ornament, which remains on our tree to this day. I also remember graduation, where I got a graduation cap made from a paper cup and paper plate cut into a square.

I attended all my elementary school years at Northridge Elementary, where the majority of my memory remains. I remember being instructed, against my will, in the fine art of music. I hated it. They would sit you in a room with a piano and a book that dealt with notes, whole notes, and nothing but the notes, so help me! They expected me to learn such classics as “Charley Over the Ocean,” and “Wishy-Washy-Wee.” I remember being instructed in the Macintosh computer, a useless piece of crap that Alpine School District seems to insist on teaching. If they would allow PC-based curriculum, some students (namely: me) would actually have developed useful skills early on.

Junior High is a memory that I prefer not to dwell on. This was the awkward time in my life. I went in having virtually no friends, no organizational skills, no work ethic and almost no self-esteem. I had to attend Alpine Life and Learning Center, a prison-like trailer that smelled of feces seeping from rusty, leaky pipes in the floor and ceiling. They provided you with a textbook and half a quarter-semester worth of work, and expected you to finish it in considerably less time than it merited. You would check out multiple packets of said work and spend all day, from after school until eight o’clock doing this work and other homework, all to make up the grades that you weren’t able to hold up yourself. Those months of enrollment in that hell of a school is merely a blur to me, since I have pretty much blocked the memory out.

As I write this, I have successfully completed the first ten weeks of High School. Thus far, it is inexpressibly superior to Junior High in every way. I have come to grips with myself on who I am, I have more confidence, and increased sense of dependency on the choices that I am making right now. I have found the place into the puzzle in life that I fit, or rather, come to grips with the fact that I do not fit. For the first time in my life, that is not a deterrent in my progress. I simply need to build a new puzzle, or life, around me that accommodates my shape, rather than trying to change to fit into the puzzle that the world tells me I should.

Other Activities

On March 28th (ish), of 1999, I joined Royal West Martial Arts in Lindon, Utah; just near my old Junior High School. The instructor, Meda West, is the wife of Headmaster Royal J. West, the founder of the chain of schools, which later grew to become the largest chain of martial arts schools within the American Kyukido Federation, and among the most popular in Utah, as well as in the rest of the Western United States, and even as far as Mexico. The art of Kyukido (Korean for “The Way of the Spark, or Explosion), was founded by Grandmaster Ok Hyung Kim, and combines traditional Tae Kwon Do (Korean for the way of the hand and foot), Hap Ki Do (The way of the coordinated inner power), Judo (Japanese wrestling style; defined as The way of little effort), Okinawan, Traditional Japanese, and Polynesian weapon styles, as well as modern renditions of self defense techniques. Kyukido has become, over a period of more than thirty years, a melting pot of nearly all relevant Korean and Japanese martial disciplines.

I joined and fell instantly in love with the art. I progressed quickly in the ranking system, learning progressively new moves, styles, weapons, and forms, all combining to teach me the discipline that many martial styles are renowned for. I was taught the theory of power, I was taught to respect my instructor and all senior ranks. I was taught to conduct myself in a respectful manner. I was taught to respect the teachings of Kyukido and to never misuse them. I was taught to always respect the rights of others. I was taught to strive for comradery and peace in the world. But probably most important, I learned to always protect those weaker than myself, no matter what. I was taught courtesy, humility, integrity, perseverance, self control, and indomitable spirit.

The teachings of Kyukido laid the foundation for a successful life. The discipline and confidence it taught me will remain with me, always. After only four years in the program, I had attained the rank of Ichidan, or “Master of Basics.” Because of my involvement in ALLC, I was unable to attend for a very long period of time, slowing my progress, but I remain undaunted. I now work for my Nidan, at which point I will be able to train a class of my own. Within a few more years, I hope to attain Sandan, which should provide me with the skills necessary to open my own school under the Royal West name.

Significant events of 1990 AD

• First Elections in Romania
  The first free elections in 53 years occurred in May.
  
• German Reunification
  After the wall fell, the push towards reuniting the two Germany's was set, October 3, 1990.
  
• Gene Therapy debuts
  In Bethesda Maryland on September, used to treat ADA deficiency
  
• Margaret Thatcher resigns
  After passing a flat tax called the "poll tax" which lead to rioting, and trying to block the EC's plan for a common currency, her rivals began calling for her resignation. She resigned in November and was replaced by John Major.
  
• Contraceptive Implant Approved by FDA
  Norplant is the first implant contraceptive approved by the FDA.
  
• Smoking on Domestic Airplane Flights is Banned
  
• New movie rating
  NC-17 is passed in order to allow for an adults-only rating without the stigma of an X rating.
  
• Spotted Owl Added to the threatened species list
  The timber industry was of course quite outraged, since this would protect the old growth forests of the Pacific Northwest and cost jobs.
  
• Sandinistas voted out of Nicaragua,
  Chamorro was elected president, the first female president of Central America
  
• Iraq invades Kuwait
  Saddam Hussein accuses Kuwait of undercutting Iraq's petroleum revenues and of stealing from a border oil field. Kuwait's offers concessions considered inadequate to Hussein, so he sends in 100,000 troops. Kuwait's army flees along with the king. Iraq is then condemmed by the Arab League, the Soviets and especially the US who sends in 500,000 troops to defend Saudi Arabia and prepare for an invasion.
  
• Three Tenors perform duing World Cup Soccer Finals
  Jose Carreras, Placido Domingo, and Luciano Pavarotti unite to perform, and later record an album and a video. The album reaches 43 on the US pop charts, the highest a classical album reaches on a US pop chart since the 1960s. Their performance is however widley panned by music critics who label them "past their prime"
  
• Liberia is invaded by Charles Taylor
  A former junta member who was driven out of the country accused of embezzlement, he invades the country with 150 Libyan trained guerrillas. The government responds by attacking the Gio and Mano groups, which then retaliate against the goverment, ripping apart the country.
  
• Mapplethorpe show results in controversy
  Cincinnati files obscenity charges against museum director Dennis Barrie for displaying Robert Mapplethorpe's work, some of which featured children's genitals and sadmomasochistic sex. This occurs at a time when Jesse Helms begins his crusade against goverment funding of artwork.
  
• Dr. Jack Kevorkian assists his first
  June 1990, he assists 54 year old Janet Adkins, who was suffering from Alzheimer's disease. This goes against the Hippocratic oath, "I will give no deadly medicine to anyone if asked nor suggest any such counsel"
  
• The Hubble space telescope is launched into orbit
  At a cost of $1.5 million, the telescope was launched with a lot of expectations of success. Once in orbit however, one of the mirrors was discovered to be incorrectly ground, resulting in blurred pictures. In 1993 it was repaired by a Space Shuttle mission.
  
• Clean Air Act passed
  
• Manuel Noreiga turns himself in to US Military
  Ending his stand-off inside the Vatican embassy, he returned to the US to face drug trafficing charges.
  
• Nelson Mandela is freed
  
• Africanized Honey Bees first enter U. S.
  The Africanized Honey Bees, the agressive honey bees which escaped from Brazil in 1957, were first discovered in the United States at the border town of Hidalgo, Texas in October of 1990. They later would spread throughout all of the Southwest U. S.
  

Source: http://www.largelink.net/time1990.htm

Historical Ties
(My place in history)

            Before the eleventh year of my life, I never paid attention to the news, which means much history slipped by me. Before then, the rest of the world didn’t matter to me. The only thing that mattered was my world. A soft, safe, sheltered life in the highlands of the Wasatch Front; containing myself, my friends, my family, my school, which before then made up the entirety of my life. I suppose this is still the case…only now I acknowledge the existence of the world. I am constantly trying to enlighten my understanding of distant ideas, and always paying attention to the news. Today’s news is tomorrow’s history.

            Because my connection with the events of the world, I will not limit this section to the events I remember. I will outline all of the significant events in the world within my lifetime. Unfortunately, I must be brief. I must only point out the most significant to my life, which means I can’t go into details on every little thing.

            The 90’s were, as all of the eras in the history of the twentieth century, a time of change. The world was getting used to new ideas and changing age old views. Traditions lost their savor, other traditions were formed. In the year that followed my birth, there arose a new scare in European countries due to HIV and AIDS. Rumors of infected blood being circulated drove France and other countries into an alarm. A mummified corpse estimated to be five-thousand years old was found frozen in the Austrian Alps. A terrorist suicide bomber killed the third Gandhi Indian nationalist, Rajiv Gandhi (no relation to renowned nationalist Mahatma Gandhi). The Russian nation experienced a good deal of change in this year. Historians have argued that this was the year that communist, soviet Russia met its end. Protestors and rebels and a failing economical system added up to the resigning of the last communist dictator of the nation. This was also the year that St. Petersburg earned its identity back from its former communist oppressors (before this year, it was known as Leningrad). Probably the most known event from this year is the beginning of Operation Dessert Storm, or the First Iraq War. America stepped up and fought against a terrible dictator and evil man who was attempting to steal the Oil wells in Kuwait. Some argue that our motivation for entering the war was to protect our oil rights in Kuwait, but I like to believe that we entered because we had the fortitude to protect a weaker country that was about to be bullied into submission by an evil dictator. It makes sense, because the U.N. had a trade agreement with Iraq, and their grasp on Kuwait’s petroleum would have been virtually ineffective of our economics. Perhaps I am wrong, but I would rather not be told. I didn’t ask. This operation was perhaps hardest because of our earlier cooperation with Iraq in their fight against Iran. In this case, the enemy of my enemy is not my friend. The weapons we supplied Iraq with were the same weapons they had taken and bit us in the butt with during this war.

            In 1992, scientists discovered cave paintings estimated to be twenty-seven-thousand years old in a cave near Marseilles. This was the year that senator and all time meat head President Clinton won the election, proving the inability of this nation to understand the true nature of their leaders despite their political platform…or else everybody knew his nature and a majority just didn’t care. We’ll revisit Clinton later. This was also the year that ended two decades of social and political contention between whites and blacks of South Africa. This is seen as their equivalent to the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Civil Rights Movement’s success.

            The following year, NASA determined that the Hubble Telescope was nearing the end of its orbital career. Fearing the loss of any information that the telescope would possibly provide in the future, a manned shuttle mission was launched to repair the satellite. This is the year that the Internet began to become popular. Although it didn’t have nearly the effect on society that in serves at the moment (I’m getting all of this information from the web right now), this is seen as the first time that the public had access to the internet via Web browser. This year the republic of Czechoslovakia split into Slovakia and The Czech republic. This year saw continued violence against soviet remnants in Georgia and Moscow. This is the year of the first World Trade Center bombing. Al Qaeda, possibly the most known evil organization of the Middle East, in an act of Jihad (holy war), drove a truck full of explosive chemicals into the underground parking of the Two Towers, and detonated, killing many and injuring many more.

            1994 witnessed yet another earthquake in Los Angeles. Due to preparation in the wake of the last major quake earlier on, the death toll was considerably less then it could have been. Nonetheless, it was a terrible tragedy. Yet another cave was discovered whose paintings were dated 30,000 years old or older. This was the year of the rebellion in Haiti. The United States took part in overthrowing the government and handing over power to a new structure. This year was the year of one of the worst violence in the history of the African continent. In an attempt at ethnic cleansing, 800,000 people were killed in Rwanda. The U.S. did nothing until three days after the event took place. They had known for weeks that the violence was about to break out. They refused to step in and put a stop the “Hate Radio” broadcast that drove the people into such an appalling crime, saying that it would “Violate the Freedom of Speech”. 800,000 men, women, and children did not have to die. 95,000 children were orphaned, most dieing later.

            Japan, in the year of 1995, battled two crises that took them both by surprise. An earthquake hit the one place that could have possibly been more prepared, Kobe. In Osaka, the largest credit union collapsed, leaving the country in a state of financial panic. Rwanda saw even more killing, as massacres saw the death of many in prison camps. This time, the United States provided aid, insufficient, but aid nonetheless. This is the year that the general public began truly understanding the strife between the Arabs and the Israelites. Earlier, the Jews were given the land of Israel by United States forces, as an effort to give them proper housing in an area with minimal violence from Arabs. The Arabs were kicked out of land, and were furious. Many extremist organizations waged a war against the new nation of Israel, eventually killing their president.

            In the following year, Mad Cow Disease was discovered in British Beef, causing a panic. Other nations refused to import. In America, a massive lawsuit against multiple tobacco companies wrapped up, and said companies were forced to pay millions in reparations. This year held further violence in both Iraq, and in areas near Rwanda, where the Hutu, the same race of Africans that were murdered in the Rwanda genocide were forced to flee refugee camps. This was the year the Taliban came to power in Afghanistan. Laws were passed that intensely limited the freedom of women. Public executions of women were committed in the streets.

            A Monster Antimatter Fountain was found in the core of the Milky Way Galaxy. Negative Electric gasses millions of degrees hot spewed forth from what appeared to be a reverse black hole. The nature of the fountain is unknown. Scottish wizards clone sheep from adult sheep DNA. More violence broke out in the Middle East and northern African nations.

            1998 marked the beginning of the “Internet Boom.” Email replaces snail mail virtually overnight. Websites were launched hundreds at a time. Search engines, online libraries, and network gaming all contributed to the largest communication network in the history of the planet and its subsequent thirst for more. Pakistan became an Islamic country at this time. The United States launched a number of cruise missiles in Africa and the Middle East. Ouch. This is the year that President Clinton was found having an affair in the Whitehouse. He publicly denied the allegation, which got him impeached. Sucker!

            Internet explosion continued in 1999. Someone was able to make a balloon flight around the world. The stupid freaking senate acquitted Clinton of the charges, on a technicality.

            2000. New year, new decade, new century, new millennium. Y2K scare. People were afraid that computers that used the abbreviated year count (’98, ’99 etc) would begin counting back at the beginning of their clock, measuring over one hundred years off. A number of potential problems had the capacity to arise, but the panic proved to be unjustified. The sequencing of the human genome was completedish. DNA researchers were unable to perfect the research, but made a rough equivalent to completion. NASA and joined other nation’s space programs began to work together to build the International Space station. The station would be able to facilitate multiple astronauts for extended periods of time. First step in expanding our exploration of outer space. Violence in Israel continued. This was the year that Bush was elected. The contest was so close that Al Gore demanded three recounts of Florida’s votes. In the end, Bush one in the Electoral College, while Gore won the popular vote. This marks the first time that the President was not the crowd favorite.

            The next year holds many advances in sciences, updates in the situations in the Middle East, and so forth, but this all means very little to me. I remember waking up that morning. I was in the late track of elementary school, so I had a little while to get ready. I gathered up the things in my backpack, and opened the door of my room. I looked across the hall into my mother’s room. I saw something in her eyes that wasn’t her. I saw fear. She was lying in her bed, staring into the television. She told me to come over and sit on the bed. I looked into the television, and beheld something that I thought you would only see in movies. Two massive, New York buildings shimmered in the Big Apple sky. Or, I should say, one shimmered. The other tower looked like it came strait from a Godzilla movie. It looked like Godzilla had roasted a piece of the building, and then took a big bite out of it.

            My mother explained to me that this was the World Trade Center. Evil men had hijacked the plane, and had driven it strait into the tower. Those in the far tower were told not to panic or try to leave, because they were safe. I marveled at the humungous pillar of smoke rising from the tower, and the many little dots tumbling out of the windows, breaking like egg shells on the pavement nearly a thousand feet below. They were trying to escape the scalding flames of the building.

            I went to School. My first period was Social studies with Mr. Bandley, a teacher who had been working in this area for nearly forty years. Just before the class began, I told my friend Lexie, “My God. Lexie, we’ve been bombed!” She didn’t believe me. As class began, Mr. Bandley explained the situation to us. By this time, the second tower had been bombed in a similar fashion. Both towers, by the time I heard more about it, had fallen to the ground, collapsing on themselves, killing thousands of trapped victims, and the firefighters and other servicemen and women who had rushed in to help people get out.

            I will never relive these memories without breaking into tears. This was what brought America together, for the first time in this generation, as a single nation. I will right no more concerning the history after these events in the world. Anything after this…it’s meaningless to me. It goes far beyond the bounds of anticlimactic. The emotions I will feel that are tied to this event have changed me forever.

            Following these attacks, Bin Laden’s organization took credit for the attack. Satellite photo intelligence found camps in Afghanistan and other areas, in where the United States instantly went into war. President George W. Bush vowed to destroy and eliminate the terrorist threat. He said that the greatest freedom we enjoy is the freedom from fear, and God help us, we will defend that freedom as we have them all: with the blood of the valorous that go and fight for what is right. Within a few short months, the Taliban had been eradicated, and Afghanistan rid of the infestation. The terrorist camps in that area were cut down like the swine within them. Although Bin Laden was not captured or killed, his second in command, as well as most of his funding and training was cut off. This marked the most powerful war on terror ever witnessed on the face of this planet, subsequent of the worst event in our great nation’s short but incredible history. God Bless America!

Okay, whoever reads these are probably sick of hereing me rant about Alisa by now, but...oh wait...Alisa's practically the only one who reads these anyway, so what do I care?

On a pre-blog note, I am a firm beleiver in God's hand in everything. He may not cause everything to happen the way it does, as much of it is up to human interferance, but he chooses how the aftermath of tragedies and successes play out. I don't call it destiny, like it's all written in stone, but everything happens for a reason, and it will all be right in the end.

Alright, follow me on this. Alisa came into my life, more or less, because her mother had to work hard to keep them fed and stuff. I met her as a result of her circumstances piling up to bite her butt. Likewise, it was this same ordeal that took her away from me. And yet again, it was these things that brought her back. Had she not needed to vent her emotions, she never would have started blogging. Had she not blogged, she never would have been a returned hit on google. Had she not been on Google, I wouldn't be talking about her right now...well...yes I would, but my blogs would all be like, "Does anybody know where I can find an Alisa Green that used to live in Utah"

So Alisa, the next time you ask "why me?", think about it that way.

My dad is going thru the manuscript. He's going to act as my "pre-assessment" editor. Before I show this to a profesional, I want the opinion of another third party, as well as some advice on overused words, unclear messages, what I should re-write, leave out, simplify, just basically whatever. I started working on book two...three times. The first two are crap, and I think I forgot to save the third. I still have a handwritten copy tho. Yay.

Anyone who would like to call up a favor and ask if someone would be willing to give me a free asessment, you're more than welcome to. ^_^

WH

SSUUTB

WGS

W

MSTO

IY

HAYG, AYBABTU. YAOTWTD

WYS?

YHNCTSMYT. HHH.

Anybody who gets this is SO a nerd. (Watch, Alisa will either get it on her first try or else scan over it again to be sure she is worthy of the nerd status.lol)

Wow. When things are wound up to tight, go camping.

Sand dunes. The influx from the old 3rd ward (making up the bulk of the young men's leaders) had the same tradition as the old 2nd ward (the two of which combined are the new 9th ward): The sand dunes. We went down, and Morgan and I dug a huge hole (the dunes have the best hole-diggin sand on the planet). It was probably the biggest hole I ever dug. It must have been 3'6" across and 4'6" down. It would have been even bigger had I made it wider to start with. You get to a point and you just run out of diggin space. That was a big freakin hole tho. And everybody's reading this going, "why did he dig a hole?" The answer is very simple. I felt like it.

You know, it's fun playing capture the flag and frisbey and all that good stuff, but just getting out and camping is something magical. It's like your problems don't exist, or else they all become really easy to solve. You're filled with the spirit and brought together in a way you never before dreamed of. I imagine the young women must have something to do the same thing for them, but there's no WAY it's anything like camping. I know sometimes they get to go out and do the girl's camp, which is great, but I would just think it's not enough.

I should suggest the idea of a two way service project. We hold a combined campout. We get there and the boys emediately set up the cooking gear. The girls cook everybody dinner, while the boys set up the girls' tents plus their own. In the morning, the girls would cook breakfast as well and the guys would take down and pack up everybody's tents. It would be AWESOME! I just don't think the girls would like it. Plus I doubt that the bishoprick would approve of the two youth groups sleeping within walking distance of each other, especially not after a fireside (firelight can be made to be EXTREMELY romantic). Maybe they could have all the leaders stay back to back between the camp sites. I don't know, just an idea.

So Seiko (the Japanese English teacher who is staying with us) lived in Hawaii for a long time. Her Hanaii (Adopted) father in Hawaii is a Japanese-American who lived in Hawaii during WWII. Emediately following pearl harbor, all the Japanese-Americans (most of whom were CITEZENS) were evacuated and forced to live in internment camps, on of which is at Topaz mountain in central Utah. Some of these were young men who volenteered to fight against Japan to defend the freedom that they had been robbed of when they were sent to camp. Some volenteered while in camp! Yet their mothers were forced to live in the camps nonetheless. It was a time of war. The American Government was so afraid that they would deny their own citezens of the rights guarenteed them in the American Constitution. No trial or anything. Nobody that was relocated was ever discovered to be involved in espianoge (sp?). Seiko's Hanaii father was one of these young men who were injustly interned. Japan didn't even recognize him as a Japanese!

Anyway, since we were down in the Little Sahara anyway, we had Mom bring Seiko down to Topaz and view the ruins of the camp. We saw the showers, the coal chute, the hospitals, a lot of stuff. It was great. The entire camp was dismantled and abandoned, and all that were left were the ruins of the foundations. She bought a little piece of Topaz found on the mountain to send back to her Hanaii father. It was a really cool experience.

Driving back, Dad and I turned on the Radio and listened to the BYU-Wyoming game. There we were. Father and son in a pickup truck full of sandy camping gear, sipping Mt. Dew and listening to a football game on the radio. THAT is how life is supposed to be. That is pure, unadulterated, life.

Alright. I promised myself I wouldn't give anybody any more sneak-peaks. I'm not sure I'm going to include this chapter, and even if I do it will undergo some serious change. I don't want to feel obligated to include this in the first book, so It was going to be the 1st chapter of the second book, but the 2nds book starts emediately after the first so I can't put it in since it's two years later. I don't know. Basically, this chapter, wherever it goes, is not going to be included until I've written up to that point. I'm ranting I know but bare with me. This is just one idea for the direction I may want to go, and it includes no spoilers. I think it's alright to put in, don't you?

*** Chapter 11 (Bridge)

What is The Gift? I know what it looks like, I know what it does, but what is it? Is it the way your biology is arranged when you have these abilities? Is it some kind of energy given off by those who are chosen to protect each other? I don’t know. That’s what I hope to find out, but I can’t be sure I’ll even live that long.

I pulled my motorcycle around the corner, into the parking lot of the Wendy’s. I pulled the keys out of the ignition and unlocked the back compartment. I slipped my helmet in and locked it. My black, leather boots crunched the loose dirt on the sidewalk. I opened the door, holding it for a family going in for a late evening meal.

“Hey…uh…jus’ gimme som’m off your dollar menu,” I said, judging the weight in my pocket.

A burger wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy three days of hunger, but it would have to do. Gas money was getting expensive, even for a motorcycle, and I didn’t know how far I had to go. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse at bright red shag. I shook it off. I was seeing visions of my friends all the time now. I could have sworn I saw Aaron and Hannah the other day in Wyoming. I was falling victim to fatigue and mental stress. I had to find rest soon. I had a tent in the side compartment of the bike, but I hadn’t thought to bring sufficient sleeping pads or a bag.

I finished up my burger, and got up to head back out to my bike. I wanted to make it as far as Billings before dawn, and I was avoiding the highway whenever possible. I pushed the door open, to see the reflection of that same head full of red hair. I was sure of it this time. I wasn’t hallucinating. He was here. “I thought I might run into you,” I said, without looking over my shoulder.

“You thought you could escape me? You bite-monkey!”

I felt a relatively playful punch hit my arm. I turned around and threw an equally offish punch to his shoulder. Standing before me was the red-headed lump of my high school days. He had grown a bit, but so had I. I was now standing at his eye level. Waves of teal brotherhood long past shot through us. Here was my old friend, Kyo-kun.

***

“So what?” I asked him, over the salt stained table. “You livin’ up here with your mom now?”

“Yeah,” He said. “Did my senior year up here. Once I was legal to move out, I saw no reason to stick around mormonville. Moved up here ‘n’ now I’m on the waiting list for the Navy. How ‘bout you?  I thought you was gonna go be a good little church boy. You were gonna go to Japan and serve Jesus and what not,”

“I was,” I said.

“So…what?”

“I decided that someone needed my help more then them.”

“You’re out lookin’ for what’s-her-face aren’t ya? You really just ought to let the police…”

My fist hit the table and stripped a bolt or two on the underside. “The danged police were the ones who took her!” I yelled.

“Calm down. How many bad cops could there be involved anyway? And talk quieter. We’re in public.”

“Enough cops,” I said. “If there were at least seven in the precinct of one of the reputedly most conservative minded areas in America, I can only imagine how big this thing really is,”

He seemed to brood on that for a moment.

“I don’t know what to do,” I said, putting my face in my hands. I inhaled hard. “It’s been two years, and there hasn’t been so much as a clue. I just…I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m just going from place to place. Checking news reports…I’m never gonna find her this way. I just can’t give up! I don’t know what else to do,”

“Lucky for you I have something that might make your job a little easier,”

I looked up. “What?”

“Dollars on you’ve never heard of Chan Viejo have you?”

“I don’t think so,”

He went on, “Anyway, he was this Mexican crime lord down in the jungle somewhere. He owned like a hundred acres of marijuana or something.”

“So what?” I said, trying not to sound impatient.

“He was causing a whole bunch of trouble to the government in Mexico and Guatemala, and his stuff was showing up in the states too. He was on the news a lot, until they caught him. January Fifth, 1990.”

“What does this have to do with Lexie?”

“He’s claiming to be her real father,” He said.

I blinked. My initial thought was “right, now that she’s on the news, he just wants some publicity.” But what if it were true? He might have heard the report and recognized some of that “tribes of Israel” crap. If he knew what they wanted her for, maybe he would know where to find her.

“Where’s he being held?” I demanded.

“Hold on a ticket! There’s more,” He said. “After she decided to become invisible, he tried to contact you and those other punks you ditched us for,”

“Aaron and Riley?” I asked.

“Yeah them. I don’t know about them, but I know about you,”

“What about me?”

“You disappeared after graduation. Nobody knows where you are,”

“Good,” I shot.

“His boys gave the message to me. Figured if anyone could find you I could. You know me; I’m,”

“Dead sexy, yes Kyo, I know. Just gimme the message,”

***

He offered to buy me a drink. I declined, saying I had a long way to go. He offered to let me stay with him, but I needed to get going. If I used up the rest of the caffeine pills I had, I could drive right through the night and sleep in Utah for the first time since I left. He consented, and gave me a generous parting gift of a hundred bucks and sent me on my way.

I slipped my helmet back on, and took out the note that Kyo had given me. He said that he had to have some guy translate it from Spanish, and it wasn’t the greatest translation ever. It read:

Dear Mister Tobler,

I no that you have been looking for my Linda. They took her from me when they took me, and I didn’t no where, until now. She carries in her the blood of the Lamaya, the ancient ones. She is a Sheikan, a whitch from the old days. That is why they want her. They are not of this world Mister Tobler. They come from a world that we cannot si. The police oficers that attacked you were possessed. It was the spirits who wanted her, not the police oficers. That also means that you haven’t killed any of them. All you did was wound their hosts. They will still find you. You cannot kill them, not while you’re in this world. I will show you what I mean, but first you must do something for me. I will help you find my Linda if you will get me out of here. If you don’t help me, I’ll get out myself. I want my daughter back, Mister Tobler.

I crumpled the note up in my hand. I fastened the chinstrap on the helmet and fired up the engine and kicked the stand. I bade one final farewell at Kyo, before I ripped off into the night.  The Highway is a lonely ally. It’s November, and it’s cold. The moon lights the way before me. I have no wish to free a criminal from jail. But this nightmare is haunting me, and only I can end it. Tonight is going to be one long ride. Tomorrow, I ride for Veracruz.

I have nothing to blog about so I'm just going to randomly write stuff down becasue it's healthy.

you know I really shouldn't but I do the girls who wear imodest clothing are actually kind of hot. I'm going to have to train myself not to look at them because all boys have the tendancy to do dirty things even the best of us like sarge anmd i can'dt spell his name but oh well. I filmed a movie with scott and swiff and kenshin but kenshin was the statistic and she always wears belly shirts and i tel her not to and i never think anything of it but when she wore it as the statistic it really bugged me because no matter  how hard I tried I couldn't look away and the worst part was is that i wasn't lookng at her face because her face was under a mask i m so bad i need to stop thinking dirty stuff in other news im writing a random blog and probably revealing information that i shouldnt hiromi sed ot be so mean and i told myself that i would never hang around her but its so hard becasue shes so nice when she's being nice but she can be a brat sometimes I can't wait till im sixteen and then i get to date alisa and maybe other girls actually definately other girls becasue im not supposed to heave a steady girlfriend thru highschool and besides she's so busy and we live so far apart. in august I can drive other people without my parents so I probably won't date her much until then but probably some because i'm to lumpy and can't wait that long she's really cool I can't stop loking at that picture of all of us and me and her asleep in the back of everybody else. This is one extremely long runon centance but thats okay because im just doing this to unwind like a rubber band. I flicked a rubber band but it went around my thumb from my index finger instead of from my pinky and i was holding it too close to my nipple and it snapped it and it hurt. I even cried a littbe bit but I didn't let anyone see. I tryi not to cry when I can help it and hold on alisa's talking to me. she's having problems with boys all girls have problems with boys my neck heurts and im not usin ghtr delete key when i spell things wrong so bite me. there are lots of girls i might want t o date eventually but only a few might actuallyw want too. that's okay because they're all really cool. I shouldn't talk abut oteher girls in this blog because I todl alisa that I wouldn't but I will because theres nothingeslse to talk about. I need new pajamas and I don't have enogh boxers. briefs suck but I have no money so I have to use them until I can get more money and bi me some more boxers. I have really nice polyester boxers without like some kind of sparklies on them but my facorite is my control freak boxxers. I cut the tag off those and now they're the most comfortable ones I have.

dating is cool but I wish I had waited until I was sixteen. I told myself that having a girlfriend wasn't dating but you had to go on a date to be dating and then I realized that I was having dates becasue it was me and her and osmetimes we were alone and she dind'nt have enough respect for herself to stand up for her honor. If I was a real man I would stand up for her honer so she wouldn't ahve to but i'm too weak in the spirit. I'm glad I told her that we shouldn't gho out becasue if I hand't something would have happened. Gosh I wish I hdan't have dated back then. From now on I won't date until I'm sixteen, even though I already have. It's like seeing an R rated movie. Just becasue you already have doesn't make it alright to see more. It's not aqn all or nothing deal. When you decide I already won't watch r rated movies it's not ok to see the ones ou already saw. maybe that makes sno sense ans an analogy but whatever you get the picture. If your still reading this you need to get a life becasue it's incoherent and I m just mumbling on and on becasue that's healthy to do once in a while

I wish I wasn't so weak. Bboth physically and spiritualy. I really can't do the things I want to in either area. I want to be a worthy priesthood holder but I can't and I want to be good at football but I can't. I'm not built for either. Once I start doing Iwhat Im supposed to I hope that the lord will strengthen me in both areas. I will be faster , stronger, and more spiritual and that shoes. I guess women have special pwores that allow them to see the light of christ. That seems so bisible for people bu myabey im just too used to seeing it to recognise it. I guess it's sort of like the gift, only not really becasue the light of christ ban be with anybody who gas received it but the4 gift is only in certain peope. I havn't written in the gift in a while. too bad. I wish that I had the apatioece to write nonstop. I'm going to have to finish the second one and send them in together becasue if I don't then the publsiher won'e tknow what the heck it's like and I don't write good enough so he wont' know what the heck it's about until both novells hav finished. I'm getting close to the part about the other world in the secnd one in fact the next part i write will be in the other world i think but maybe not. I have too plots goinmg t the same time now and it makes it much more interesting to follow each one seperately.

I think I'm done now. I hope I didn't disclose anything that was too personal. If there is, just tell me about it before too many people see it.

You know, the girls have it the worst as far as emotional meltdowns and stuff like that, but that doesn't mean that the guys don't have it at all. That's the only reason that I can explain me recent bleh of an attitude toward life. I'm just down. I put on a happy face and try to be the least horemonal I can be, for the sake of my manhood, but when the mask comes off, I feel like crap.

I'm stuck in The Gift sequel. I kinda think I'm going to need to finish the second one in order to get the first one published. I'll send them both in to be analized and then both stories will make sense. The second one is certainly turning out to be more fun to write, since it deals with multiple plots between chapters. I'm stuck because the one charicter's story is getting draggy and so I want to switch to the perspective of a different charicter, but the only other charicter is in a state of being that I don't want to reveal until later. I suppose I'll have to write from the perspective of one of the other two, but I don't even know what they're doing, and so until I can figure that out, I'm stuck.

In other news, Harry Potter rocks. I'm not going to go on a rant, because that's sort of a feminine thing to do, but I have to be blunt here...Hermione is hot. Let that suffice, for now

I started working on an animation. Dang that's time consuming, but it will be kinda cool when it's finished. Flash is a really cool program, but it takes a while to get used to. I'll figure it out eventually.

Okay, as for girls...hm...basically I'm just killing the time, because I'm resless. As it stands officially...3 months, 11 days, 11 hours, and seven minutes. The countdown begins...beware all thee who are of the female race, for thou shalt surely be mine come time for...bwahahahaha!

I suppose thanksiging is a time to give thanks. I am thankful for:

America

Batman

Canada

Dire Straits

Everything

Football

God

Health

Internet

Jesus

Kaptain Krunch

Liberty

Mormons

Nostalgia

Okaasan

Power Rangers

Queen (Fat bottomed girls, you make the rockin' world go round)

Ruki

Stripling Warriors

The Gift

U-2

Vash (dude, next to letter S, you're my hero)

Watashi no Tsuma

X-Men (Telekinetic girls are hot)

Zebra

Cold, nautious, sick, exhausted, achy, depressed, clumsy, wind-burned, sun-burned, frozen alive, sand in face, unhealthy but neccesary trust in shoes, ups, downs, overs, norths, souths, pukes, mones, the self control to not complain until I get home to blog, cut, bruised, migrane, calloesed, and developing ingrown tonail.

Yeah, so me and my dad had a great time at Arches National Park.

That snow storm last night only dumped down a little on my mountain, but it was enough that we got the call at 10 last night that 8 this morning we were shoveling walks in front of, behind, around, and even thru(?) the church. As teachers, it is our duty to maintain the premises of the church. I think I once heard that the prepratory priesthood gave us stewardship over physical aspects of the church, such as passing the sacrament, the responsibiltiy to set up chairs, shovel the sidewalks, bless the sacrament, baptize, and maintain peace and order within the quorum. The only non-temperal power given to us is the ministering of angels, but I'm still trying to find out exactly what that means (only the ministering of angels somehow represents the white shirts and ties, if that has anything to do with it). We can still bless the lives of others, but I want to serve God in the most helpful way I can. Say somebody lapses into a coma. The stuwardship of the sacrament isn't going to do them any good. I don't wish the power of the Melchezedik Prieshood for my own benifit, because that's not what the priesthood is. Both Priesthoods are in place to serve others, and that's what I wish. Sigh.

Sometimes I wonder if the young women get to feel the joys of this kind of service. I've already written once of my idea about the combined campout. It's like...mutual service. The girls get to cook us a meal and we get to set up their tents, build their fire, haul their gear, all the things that men are good at.

In other news, if somebody comes across a cd case filled with church cd's, weird al, dr. demento, and a whole bunch of self-burnt rock cd's, could you give me a call?

The sword shone in the pale moonlight like a silver flame, rising from the deep. The blade gleam took shape, and became what I beheld as a spectre, undoubtedly the will of whatever angel or spirit posessed the steel, or something else beyond my mortal comprehension. The silvery mist, transparent as clear mountain water, bade me at once to the east. "Aeoroin, mei no monorhim," I commanded. In response, the mist returned to the blade, and I sheathed it. The night was cold, but the blade was warm, even through the leather of the scabbard. I walked back to where Terithia was grazing. The mountain grass was a rare treat, and one that did not often find her lips.

I took care not to pull at her maine as I climbed. I admit that even I had yet to become accustomed to riding without a saddle. I oft wonder if I ever shall. Under the moon, her flesh seemed to glow. It was only under such a clear sky that a full moon could be viewed in this size, or this mystic beauty. I patted Terithia's neck three times, indicating urgency. Her eyes narrowed, and she shot on, working her way towards the canyon cliff, the revine that only she and her kindred could bound.

With a mighty leap and a call of her strength, we flew to the far side, and back to the road. There, riding Eritheia, stood Manouin, prepared to come to my aid.

"What says the wind?" I asked him, as our steeds drew closer in mid-gallop.

"Ere daybreak, the hand of Adun shall pass through the lands of Khashtheridor, and The Hunter King's tower shall be rent," He replied.

"And of Komarodachi?"

He hesitated. "She is alive,"

"And?" I was becoming agrivated, quickly.

"The King's bastard son has taken her. She will live, but you know of his evils against this people,"

"He has taken her?!" I demanded. "I shall see to it that he meets the same end as his harlot mother! And this time, it will be by mine hands,"

For three weeks we rode, and our horses refused to tire. Gradualy, the mystic plaines became a dark desert, slimed with the burning filfth from whence his tower sprang. It seemed now that there was nothing within the rivers that could not bare witness to the tower. Andul's plain was passing by. Within the next week, it would pass within range of The Hunter King's devilish gliders and it would fall victim to his evil plot. Although he lacked the sense to see that this scheme was doomed from its conception. He knew not that Andul's dominion reached far beyond that plaine. In deed, in all my journeyings I had never reached a land that his eye could not see me. My experience lead me to beleive that such a place did not exist.

We camped just outside of the gates surrounding the tower. The abomination was the size of a large city, and in fact, a city was built on the three lower layers. I counted nine layers in all, each growing smaller than the last. The top layer was, although above the clouds and out of my view, undoubtedly large enough to sustain The King's armies. I could see their torches. Thousands, hundreds of thousands of tiny figures marched up the mountain, making their way to it's summit. Their forces were massing. Andul's dominion would soon be invaded, and these thousands of young men were in for a rude awakening.

Okay I'm not going to write the rest. No, this is not part of The Gift, even though it brings into play some seriously important ideas. The plains of Andul represent a spirit world, almost a sort of paradise/pergatory, or a temporary state where spirits are born. Some are born and are called into mortality, while some serve Andul on the terrestrial plaine, acting as angels or whatnot. Andul is essentially Jesus Christ, more or less. You will find Andul in all of my stories. He is sort of the tie-together of all the worlds I have created.

Okay, well, peace out for tonight yall.

Ignoring the fact that I married Alisa sometime between 1993-1995:

My sunday school teacher said to write down a list of qualities I want in a wife, just because it would be amusing to look back on it later in my life. Of course he was expecting that I had measurements in mind, but I'll do it anyway.

1) She has to be hot, by whatever standards that is met by at that time in my life (tastes change)

2) She has to have a testimony of the Church, and the King at it's head.

3) She has to be hot, following the guidelines in #1.

4) She has to honestly sustain the general authorities, and what they have to say. She has to want to and be worthy of a temple marriage.

5) She has to be hot

6) She has to respect herself, and be willing to allow me to express my masculine side (I can't be brutally sensitive ALL the time).

7) She has to be hot

8) She has to want a large family. I know that sounds stuck up or conceded, but that is absolutely a guideline.

9) Take a guess

10) She has to let me-and even expect me to-be the best husband and father I can possibly be, that I be kind to her, charish her, and none other to come between us. She has to allow me the pleasure to make her happy, truly happy, and to make the most of our time together, both here and in the eternities.

What has been a part for so long,

Is ripped from my hands, and cast

Just a short distance, but just beyond my reach.

Is it love? Now I may never know.

For the first time I see her as what she really is

Strong, yes, but frail and tangible as well.

She is human, and she is among the flowers, fair and beautiful.

But it's beauty cannot be savored, not now.

She has been uprooted, and planted in another wild field.

Now I cannot gaze upon the beauty any longer,

Not while my eyes are bound with this mortal veil.

The oceans in her eyes and fire in her hair are no longer mine to taste.

I cannot say it is Love, for what do I, a child, know of Love?

My heart feels a love, but not The Love, spoken of by the true and faithful from every era.

One day I will look back and see this sensation,

After I have truly loved, and known if this was love.

Until then I must but long for the beauty left behind.

Life goes on, bleak and empty, without her radiant waves.

She will grow old, and live. Better off for it, I suppose.

But what she left will stay with me for ever.

She was an anchor to my past. A constant. A heavenly star.

One by one, these anchors are ripped from me

And the past begins to slide.

But the past is the one constant. I can only hope that one day, I will know what it is that I felt here.

You know, it's something so stupid. This is such a meger and pathetic trial in comparison with Alisa's friend, moving to...where was it again? L.A.? My friend (and to tell the honest truth, she's only been my friend for a short period of time, despite the years that we shared together in our earlier lifetimes) is moving to Highland. Yes, Highland, a bloody little 20 mile bikeride from my home. She even gets to finish the year at THS. Why did I make such a big deal out of it? I don't know, maybe I'm just really weak with this kind of thing. I still have the pleasure of knowing I will see her again, maybe even often. I mean jeez! It's 20 miles!

In all sensitivity to her, I'm not saying that moving is a small thing. Especially not for someone who has lived in the same place most or all of their lives. But you, Hannah, are the one that has to deal with it. I shouldn't be feeling so sad about it, past the sorrow one feels for their friend's discontent. Am I just a wuss? Is that why such a trivial thing (from my point of view) is causing me such pain? Is it teenage horemonal disfunctions? I mean what the heck is it?!

Gah. I need a hug. Alright, to make myself feel better about this, every week or more I have to bike up to Luke's, grab him, and then we both bike up to Hannah's house and bring sketchbooks, anime, junkfood, whatever, and then we just hang out all bloody day. That could cause a problem in the fact that I would have to bike back, and a two-way trip takes all day (as luke and I found out). Of course, I will be able to drive, but I wouldn't want to. I would bike up, grab luke, hang out with Hannah, and then my dad can drive down and pick me up. That would work, if he'd go for it.

Now what I need is advice. You see, last night, going well into the middle of the night, she took down her defenses. Everybody wears masks, but I have never seen any person who is so emotionaly confined. I didn't even realize that she had a sensitive side. I thought her emotional spectrum was confined to: happy, extatic, energetic, uptoned, upity, etc. Which, looking back, makes no sense. Nobody with that level of inteligence can be that monopolar. But I just never thought to look close enough to realize something...not obvious, but evident nonetheless. Point being, she doesn't show her true colors very often, and likely never to a boy. She already has expressed fear at the prospect of the aquardness of our impending meeting at school tomorrow. What can I do to make her comfortable? I don't want to just...not talk to her. Help. Taskute Kudasai! Onegaishimasu!

I started a journal. I know I already blog here, just not enough. Unfortunately, due to technical difficulties, today's entry will be posted on mindsay, until further notice.

December 13, 2005

I switched my computer to japanese, just for fun. Now I can type whatever I want.

よし！私は日本語が分かりません。私は日本語の我っ子製です。由！Hah! I win! School was alright, I suppose. The weather's been cold, but clear, so I can wear my leather coat again. Frankly, I'd be fine in a T-shirt, as long as there's no wind. But the leather is great for 1) Looking sexy for the ladies and 2) Giving the ladies something to keep them warm when Bro. Smith sides with the boys and turns the fans on. The boys really don't care what temperature it is, so long as we can give our jackets to the girls. It's like some funky twist on the circle of life! To bad escorting's no longer in place. But there's always EFY.

I want to start eating in the seminary building. For one, it's just nice to feel the spirit and get away from all the crap in the school. Cursing (bad habit I still have to kick), sex talk, immodesty, homosexuality, imorality, and all the stuff I really don't want to be around all the time. None of that is in the seminary building, and since I've kind of seperated from my friends anyway, I might as well go eat in there. Okay, my motives really aren't as pure as I make them sound, even though that's half of it. See, one day I left my hat in seminary. I came back during lunch to grab it. When I walked into Bro. Smith's classroom, Ari was there playing hymns. She didn't notice me come in. I grabbed my hat, but then sat there for a moment, just to listen. I figure she must eat in there, which frankly doesn't surprise me. She's a Ms. Perfect, even though she doesn't act that way. You know, wheather or not I'm right for her or whatever, she's really something special.

So there you have it, the day's events. And no, there is no refund for the last five minutes of whoever's life I just ripped off. Sorry.

28 manuscript pages in. I finished cover for it. I'm still not sure what the cover for #1 will look like. I've also started to play around with the title of the sequel.

I never thought that I could endure so much church in one day. You see, after they moved me to the ninth ward...well...I spent my whole life in the second ward. I am the second ward. I think the only people that have been here longer than me are like six of my neighbors. From nursery on up I was in the 2nd Ward. I love the second ward, and always will. I missed them, so I went to their church. Afterwards, I went to my church. Ouch. I'm all churched out. But it was awesome! I got to see all my old friends again, even though I see them all the time in school, it's not the same. Ward hopping is fun. And if the bishoprick doesn't move me to a class with some hot high school girls instead of bloody eigth graders, I'll be doing some class hopping too. I went to the sunday school I was supposed to, but I won't be staying in there. Teacher sux, and the only girl my age in there is Kimberly. She's nice and all, but she alone isn't nice enough to keep me in that class. Naw. But I'm hoping she and I both get moved, along with Chris, into a class with fifteen and sixteen year olds, rather than thirteen year olds. Hello, thirteen year olds can't date, not even by the time I can. Jeez Bish Rife, get with the program!

Forgive my random mormon rant. 

Hey kids, rock and roll. Rock on, ooh, my soul.

Hey you, doobie-do, Did ya?

Hey, shout, summer time blues,

Jump up and down in your blue swede shoes.

Hey kids, rock and roll, Rock on!

And where do we go from here?

Which is the path that's clear?

Still lookin for my blue jean baby queen

Prettiest girl I'd ever seen.

See her shake on the movie screen,

Jimmy dean! (James Dean)

((Funky electric violin solo))

And where do we go from here?

Which is the path that's clear?

Still lookin for my blue jean baby queen,

Prettiest girl I'd ever seen.

See her shake on the movie screen,

Jimmy Dean! Jimmy Dean! Rock on!

((Million repeats of "Hey kids, rock and roll, rock on!")0

As the semester comes to a close, my mind races with visions of pain and suffering rivaling that of  labor and child birth. Yes, hell week looms on the horizon. I don't think I have done hell week justice in this record. Let me reiterate (I'm not sure what reiterate means, I just think it's a cool word)

Hell week is very much like what it sounds. A week of hell. Not only is their going to be pain and suffering worthy of the title, but it will be volentary, as is the steady road to perdition. For an entire week during the summer, I, Swiffer, Kyo, Scoot, and a camera will be traveling up Dry Canyon in north Orem, and camping on the saddle of baldy. We will make camp, then bring a single weapon out to the summit to train with in the wilderness. We will train until we exhaust ourselves, then head back to camp to rest our bodies.

We awaken early the next morning. The shadow of the Cascade Mountains will clear over our heads, and we will brake camp. We will hike down Battle Creek canyon, until we hit a road, which will take us six miles over to Timpanookee in American Fork, where we will camp again. After dinner, we will train until our bodies can no longer take the strain.

The morning of the third day, we will hike about three miles up from Timpanookee to Timpanogos Basin near the summit of the mountain. That day, we will likely spend the whole day training, because there will be so little hiking. We will physically exhaust our bodies to the maximum ability possible, while we Tei-kin the beauties of nature. If you got that joke you're either korean or a bigger nerd about martial arts then I am.

The next morning we will leave our packs at the trail junctions and summit Mount Timpanogos. From the summit you can see everything from Salt Lake City, to my house in north Orem, all the way down to the mouth of Spanish Fork Canyon. We will sign our names in the log book, make a donation to whatever cancer thing is up there this summer, and climb back down to our stuff. We will camp that night just over in the next basin near Emerald Lake. That will likely be a strenuous training day as well, because there will be very little hiking.

The next few days are debatable. At some point we will have to make the strenous hike from Emerald Lake all the way down to the parking lot above sundance. We may do that on Friday, or (more likely), we will train all day at emerald lake with no hiking whatsoever, then hike down on Saturday. Look out world, the boys are back in town!

Total muscle tone gain: Sexy

He and Jaden swam forward, adding to the effect of the strong current than ran all the way around the tiny island. As they approached the redrock canyon in front of them, Teth began looking for the crevice in the rock that was either tradition or obsession every time he passed. It was round, and the watter flowed into it, while the particles of sand in the water agedly dug deeper and rounded it off. It was nearly large enough to place his fist in and touch the back, but not quite.

Satisfied with having bid the cravice a breif salutation, as he always did, he swam more heartily to catch up with Jaden. Upon drawing near, Jaden spoke. "Hey, Teth, what are we going to do today? Bazak wants us to help him with something, but not before Kauro touches the old oak tree in his yard. Most people won't even be up yet,"

"There's someone I know who is," Teth replied.

"Can we?" Jaden inquired.

"Riku's father is a strong man, but not a briliant nor fast man. It's an insult to our quest to forbid us anything that would hinder it. Besides, if we don't win her heart to you, then Barot will marry her off to Gadiir, and we both know how much she wants that to happen."

"Dude," started Jaden. "She's thirteen. She won't be married for three years!"

Teth sighed. "The way things are going now, we can't know how the law will change in the next three years."

The beach of the western shore pulled around the bend, and Teth and Jaden began swimming away from the current. The beach was deserted, because the only way to access it was through Crazy Abul's garden. The people of the tiny island of Athnomian feared him because they didn't understand him. Nobody understood him, except for the island rascals. One day, in an attempt to reach the sandy shore, they had climbed the little cinder cone on the western shore, with the intent of down-climbing the cliff on it's southern face. About halfway down, Teth had lost his footing, and fell all the way into Crazy Abul's arms.

"Why did you help me?" Teth said, once Jaden was on the ground.

"Because if I didn't you'd have gone splat!"

"But I thought you were..."

"Crazy?" Abul began. "That's what they told you right? I'm not crazy. I'm just different. That's what mama always said. Mama went to heaven a long time ago, because she worked so hard to make enough to eat for me for a long time, because I couldn't do it myself. Just before she left, she told me to tend the garden so I could eat every day. I can't work like normal folk. I'm just no good at anything."

He invited them in and gave them some kind of thing that he called carrot stew, but Teth would have called it boiled spinnach and steamed, sliced carrots. They got to talking, and Teth came to the conclusion that Abul wasn't crazy, he just didn't add up to what a grown man should. He was like a child, and although uncontrolled emotional spazms and fits of frustration could give the appearance of crazy, it also game him a quality of innocence which was amazingly respectible.

They pulled up onto the shore and shivered a bit in the early morning air. "Ah man! Abul forgot to bring our clothes out again!" Jaden mock-cursed.

"He didn't even remember towles, but not like we care if he sees us bare. We dropped our clothes off this smorning, they're probably still sitting on the table. Come on, let's go!

They ran up the beach, the soft sand clinging to their wet feet like a wet sponge. Abul didn't really landscape the yard much, but for a wild place it did okay. If they stuck close to the various fruit trees the weeds didn't hurt very much. They spent a lot of time with their shoes off anyway, so it took nothing short of a thornbush to truly break the skin.

"Hey Teth! Get a load of this!" Jaden shouted from behind. Teth looked back. Jaden was holding up a long bow and a good sized quiver that must have held fifty arrows! "I thought I had lost these! I'm going to stay out here and practice for a moment."

"'Kay, I'll go get our clothes."

Jaden walked in, not bothering to knock, through the screen door in Crazy Abul's kitchen. It was simple, a sink with a bucket to get water out of the freshwater current that surrounded the island, a small burner that acted as either a stove or an oven, depending on what was strung from the gallows. A counter for preparing and cooking, and a ceramic cup and matching plates, with wooden utensils. It looked just as it had twenty-five years ago when Abul's mother died, though Teth wasn't born yet and wouldn't know.

Abul was no place to be found, so Teth walked in a few feet and scanned the kitchen, in case Abul had absentmindedly placed their clothes on the counter. His eyes scanned right to left across the room. When his eyes rested upon the object of interest, his heart stopped dead in his chest.

Riku wasn't the standard girl of her age. She was unusually rebelious, or if put lightly, prefered to discover things on her own rather than listen to her parents' advice. She had always been that way, but even more so after the age of ten. She wasn't a tall girl. She preferred to keep her hair long, and even refused haircuts. She had made it a habit to, when she wasn't in the mood for her parents' chores or haircuts or whatever, to jump from the window of her bedroom onto the branches of the huge Olive Aspen outside. The twigs scratched at her skin and the fruit stained her clothes, but she didn't care. She actually enjoyed small amounts of pain, not like a posessed person did, but like a hunter or soldier did. Even blood didn't bother her. She scoffed at the other girls her age. They ran and hid when a mouse entered the room, and passed out at the sight of blood. She would try and catch the mouse, and even had a mouse friend who lived in her room with her. As for blood, she ignored it so long as it was not life threatening.

She had grown up in school, where her parents hoped she would learn the does and dont's of proper living. However unwillingly, she had completed school and made it very clear that she wasn't about to enroll in a finishing school. Yes, she could play the fiddle like nobody else, (and to this people, that was respectable), and yes, she could read and understand well the dead language of the ancient inhabitants of that region, but she really didn't care. She tormented herself because she couldn't do cool things. She couldn't skip a rock across the water, she could not fire a strait arrow, she couldn't fight or wrestle or anything of the sort. She found herself jumping onto her Olive Aspen and sneaking out during the sixth and seventh days, and going out to secluded places to try and master, if nothing else, skipping rocks.

It was on such occasion, after a rather unlady-like argument with her mother that she ran off away from the rising sun. Finding herself simply running without a destination, she thought of the place that her mother would like her least to go. After dismissing her initial thoughts, her mind rested upon the perfect place; Crazy Abul’s.

He had been kind to her, and she had helped him prepare a meal, a task she never particularly enjoyed until now. She added to his knowledge of manners, the things that his mother hadn’t been able to teach him before she passed away, and found him to be a very warm and loving person, contrary to what the entire island thought.

She promised that she would return the next day, and she did. She got dressed in her lightest summer dress, even though it was a mild day (especially in the morning). She wasn’t especially uncomfortable in the chill of morning air. She seemed more comfortable than most, man or woman, in cooler temperatures. She was barefoot, but didn’t really care if she got dirty. There was always the tiny private beach on Abul’s property if she felt like a swim. She jumped head first through the window and grabbed hold of the largest branch, then shimmied her way down until she was about ten feet off the ground. “Close enough,” She whispered, and dropped.

Upon arriving on the west shore and Abul’s little cottage, she wiped her hands on the grass to get the Aspen-Olive powder that covered the bark on the outside from her skin. She knocked once, and Abul came to the door.

“Hello Riku! Good day today isn’t it?” He walked off, not offering her entrance. She knew that he expected her to come in. She didn’t stress formality in such a setting where both seemed to be so willing to adapt familiarity instead. She entered.

“Can I get you something?” He asked from his bedroom.

“I was just about to ask you the same thing,” She replied with a giggle.

“The summer apples are big right now! They’re still an itty bitty tiny incy wincy bit tart, but do you want one anyway?” He asked.

“Sure.”

“Okay, but I want to show you something, and it’s a surprise. You can go get the apples, and I’ll get it so I can show you!”

“Alright,” She said, smiling. She went through the hallway into the kitchen and out through the back door. On the nearest tree sat humungous summer apples. Summer Apples were always a little bigger than normal ones, but Abul’s mother, it seemed, had some power that made all her precious things beautiful. Even the lawn, which had not been trimmed or weeded since she died looked ruggedly beautiful. She picked one apple, deciding that a fruit nearly the size of her head was plenty for the both of them. Had she not been preoccupied with trying to remove the apple stem from its branch without it falling on her head, she might have noticed two tiny figures in the freshwater ocean swimming toward the beach. She decided to pick up a rock, about the size of her fist, and throw it with all her might at the stem. The jagged edge sliced into it, and the weight of the giant apple took it down.

Inside, she looked around for a knife large enough to cut the apple in half. Having found one, she realized that she would need the apron on if she didn’t want to smell like apple all day. Something this plump was bound to squirt when cut. She went into the next room and looked in the pantry. There hung what appeared to be an age old apron, covered in dust and cobwebs. She took a breathless moment to beat it until clean, and strapped it on. She laughed as she realized that she was too short for it. After all, she was only about Five Feet and two inches with no hope of getting much taller. It annoyed her, but not without mild amusement. She walked back into the kitchen, only to be staring into the gold hair of a fourteen year old naked boy.

Teth’s heart stopped dead in his chest. An aura of fire seemed to cover him, burning his skin uncomfortably. The muscles in his face tensed and his pupils shrunk as he saw Riku, the daughter of the merchant staring at him in his deceitless form. He wanted to run, but his feet were too heavy. He couldn’t seem to move a muscle. He just stared into her eyes, and her eyes to his.

She wanted to look away, but could not force herself to. She couldn’t even utter the phrase, “Oh, I’m terribly sorry,” Partly because she had a thing about taking the blame for something that was not her fault, regardless of sex or social standing, but mostly, because if she did then she would have to admit to herself that this was really happening.

Finally, Teth managed a strained, “Hi Riku.”

She turned almost as red as he was. “Um…Hi. Teth isn’t it?”

“Uuuhhh……yeah. Um…what are you doing here?”

“I’m uh…I like to come down here to see Abul. He’s really nice.” She slapped her forehead, grateful that her muscles relaxed to get her hand over her eyes. “Of course, I’m sure you already knew that.”

“Yeah. I was just out for a swim when…uh…yeah. We like to come here because nobody can, um…see us.”

“Yeah,” She said, unsure of what to say.”

They carried on a conversation in such an awkward state, neither of them daring to leave on account of denial. If they never acknowledged it was happening, it became much easier to bear. The mind is a funny thing.

Finally, and much to the relief of both parties, Abul entered the room. “Hi Teth!” He shouted excitedly when he saw him. He rushed over and hugged him, which even naked, seemed more comfortable than standing in front of the coolest girl on the island with no clothes on. Abul released him. “Where’s Jaden?” He asked.

“He’s outside practicing with the bow he left here a while ago.” Teth replied.

“Great! I’ll go see him!” Abul charged out the door, leaving naught but air between Ruki and Teth a second time. Turning red again, he uttered:

“Um…I better go find my…”

“Yeah,” She replied, maneuvering out of his way to give him more room, or at least, that’s what she told herself she was doing. She looked strait passed him as he passed by, grinding his teeth. She immediately absorbed herself in trying to cut through the apple, not daring to look at anything else. “Stupid!” She whispered. “Why does that have to feel so awkward?! Why can’t stuff like that be easy?! Gaa! Okay, calm down Ruki. Get a hold of yourself. Just cut the apple.”

Teth walked back out, not fully clothed, but he had on the pants the tailor had made for him for the sole purpose of screwing around. Because of his unusually strong muscles, despite their size, he could do almost the whole day’s cores in an hour, which is why he had so much time to screw around with. He could move bales, feed four cows, two horses, eight sheep, twenty pigs, and two lazy mutts all before the cock crowed. Jaden, who was the son of a smith, usually had nothing to do unless there was an irregularly large order due.

The two of them used to spend there time fighting with swords, trying to hone their skills and play like they were warriors. Jaden could make decent swords out of folded steel, but they were constantly worse for ware. In the summer the swimming was great, especially in the current, which was too far away from the shore for them to be seen. They both could go almost two minutes without breath, if they weren’t fighting the current, and often picked things off the reef that seemed unusual or expensive. With more than half of the items they retrieved, they attached parchment to with messages in the ancient tongue such as, “Tun thiluae du Rukii dem irril,” which is, “On the day that the sun rises on you, your love will find you, or you will find your love,” depending on the interpreter. Jaden confided in Teth that he would really like to court her, but he knew her presteige and social standing. He didn’t want to be judged before she knew him, so they carried out their little missions. They would climb Ruki’s tree while she was downstairs eating with her family, and fasten their gifts and messages onto arrows and fire them through the constantly open window.

 Ruki and Teth knew each other from school, in which Teth attended one year. They spent the year friends, since they were both outcast by the other children. After Teth left, Ruki grew to hate school even more. She counted down the hours until she could leave.

“Here,” Teth said, as he approached the kitchen. He took the knife, and with one quick slice it cut down the core and hit the table underneath, spraying him with apple juice.

Ruki laughed. “That’s why we usually use aprons.”

Teth laughed back as he wiped his face. “I guess there’s always the water, still.” They both blushed a little when they realized what that meant. He ran out through the kitchen door and threw Jaden his clothes. Jaden offered silent thanks, having been told about Ruki’s presence.

“Why don’t we pick another apple and we all can have some?” Abul offered. They liked the idea. Jaden jumped high into the air, catching one of the humungous apples in his arms and pulled it loose, landing back on the ground like a feral cat.

After breakfast, they all engaged in casual conversation, mostly allowing Ruki the floor, since the three guys knew each other quite well. After a short smiling silence, Teth asked Ruki, “So, what all do you have to do today?”

“Well, I really don’t want to go home. Could I hang out with you guys?” She replied.

“Absolutely!” They exclaimed in unison. Jaden added, “We need to see more females around anyway!”

They went around back and Jaden quietly ran off toward his home, leaving Teth and Ruki alone in the backyard. When asked what Abul had wanted to show Ruki, he blushed and answered, “Nevermind”. Teth walked to a tree, with Ruki in pursuit; a large oak with strong branches. Ruki was instructed to climb, and she complied happily, notwithstanding her age or the fact that she was still wearing a summer dress. They climbed up, Teth careful to respect her privacy. She climbed until they couldn’t climb much farther. Teth swooped around and matched her height, sitting himself on the same branch.

“Okay, so what are we doing here, and where’d your friend go?” She asked.

“Patience. Look.” He replied, and stood up. Just over his eye level there were two swords embedded in the trunk of the tree. Teth removed one, and handed it down to Ruki. He took the other for himself.

----

Last night I had a dream about this island and the little crevice. Although there was more to the dream, I don't think much more will be added. I would have to do a large thing about arrows and dragons and stuff, and I don't know if that's going to fit into this story. I'm going to try to keep this one short, but the Gift started as just going to be a short story, so you never know. I was just planning on writing down the dream, but I decided this was more interesting anyway. I'll put the rest up as I write it.

This won't make any sense to anybody. I'm only writing this here since I'm on Scoot's computer and he doens't have MS Word. I wrote this in like ten minutes, so forgive any...anything.

Whoosh

(Starts with a still image of Swiffer's Hosue, cuts to still image of churchyard, then cuts to street. Fade in of swiffer and bbd riding up the hill towards scott's house. three or four shots of that. finally, they ride down and jump off their bikes at scoot's house. Scoot opens the door right before they knock. They all run down and flop on the beanbags. Music cuts as they flop)

Scoot: So where are the females of the sexy of the HEEEEE?

BBD: We thought they were with you!

(Doorbell rings)

Swiffer: That'll be Kyo. He was right behind us.

(Scoot runs up and gets the door. Walks back down with Kenshin and Seagull and Kyo)

BBD: What happened to Kyo?

Kenshin: Seagull Girl was too excited to see Kyo. She got all touchy feely and he...

BBD: Baka Neko.

Kyo: Raaaaaaaauuuuuuuuur.

Seagull: So what are we going to do now?

Scoot: I got an Idea!

(Cuts to everybody doing queer kicker to we like to party)

Scoot: That was fun.

Swiffer: Now what?

BBD: You know what we havn't done in a long time? Whoosh!

Seagull: What about Kyo?

Scoot: He's going to turn back soon. Too bad we can't have him naked in public!

Seagull: Oh my gosh!

Swiffer: The Girls don't have bikes

Kenshin: We don't have to use bikes. Haha!

Seagull: Yeah, did you forget that we have teleport powers?

BBD: Girls. Let's go! We'll meet you guys there.

(Girls warp out. The guys run out and grab their bikes. A few cuts of them riding down the hill, eventually meeting the girls at the whoosh hill. They all line up and run to be ready to whoosh)

All: All your base are belong to !US!

(Whoosh scenes)

“Okay, so what are we doing here, and where’d your friend go?” She asked.

“Patience. Look.” He replied, and stood up. Just over his eye level there were two swords embedded in the trunk of the tree. Teth removed one, and handed it down to Ruki. He took the other for himself.

“What are we going to do with these?” She asked nervously.

“Spar,” He replied, and leapt from the branch, falling quietly to the ground.

“Man,” She thought. “How can his legs take the impact of falling from that high? We must be twenty-five or thirty feet up!” She clumsily fumbled down the branches, trying to keep hold of her sword. She took a jump at near ten feet, deciding that she couldn’t be outmatched entirely.

“So tell me sir, what is the anatomy of…’sparring’, did you call it?”

“Well,” He replied. “I swing, you block. You swing, I block. And, ‘Teth’ will be fine, thanks.”

“But what if I don’t block?” She asked nervously.

“Well, I’ll just have to stop before I hit you. Don’t worry, Jaden and I have been doing this for a while.”

“What if you don’t block?” She asked, seemingly more nervous than before.

“Well,” He threw the blade up, and it somersaulted in the air. He caught it, and carried its momentum through two vertical swings, gripping it with both hands again, shifting into a proper fighting stance. “I’d better block then, shouldn’t I?”

“So…”

“I’d suggest attacking.”

Not ready to turn down a challenge, she folded the blade to her right side and rushed forward, swinging the heavy blade horizontally, sure that steel would meet steel at any moment. Her heart leapt a little when she felt the momentum of the blade carry her swing all the way over. She didn’t have the arm strength to stop it. Its single edge fell into the soft soil of Abul’s yard. She looked to see where her opponent had gone. Her eyes drifted to her right, and rested on the slanted edge of Teth’s wide blade.

“Lesson one,” He announced. “Lock your left wrist when you want it to stop. Lesson two, don’t let your guard down. Overswinging will do that.”

The thin red fabric of anger permeated into her heart, and her chest began to burn with the satisfying tension it brings. She bared her teeth as she came in for another swing, folding from her left side this time. The second time around, the two blades met, her edge on his flat. Even a seasoned fighter didn’t take the shock of that much momentum well. He tipped in the direction of the swing, planting his base foot wider to absorb the shock.

He drew his arms in, and thrust her blade back. She let out a tiny yell of surprise as it retraced its path back towards her left hip. “Lock your wrist” She commanded, and the blade came to a dead halt. The strain on her arm from the shock was even briefly satisfying as her mind acknowledged that the pain would make her that much stronger tomorrow.

This time Teth went on the offensive. He folded the blade vertically, the thick spine coming to rest along the curve of his back. He threw it forward and a little to the side, so the blade would follow the path from his right shoulder to his left hip. She ducked under, and it hit her sword with a clang, knocking it to the ground. She let out a grunt of exertion as she swung it around from right to left, spinning as she went. For 360 degrees she swung the blade, until it collided with his and threw him violently to the floor.

He rolled as she threw the blade down where he just was, a little bit shaken. That was one blow that he couldn’t have blocked if he had tried. These swords were probably ten pounds, so even a tiny speed could give it incredible momentum! She drew the blade high again, and swung down a second time, leaving a second cut in the sod, parallel to the first.

Teth swung his blade without getting up, aiming for her ankles. In a show of miraculous agility, she leapt into the air, and drew her knees in, the blade passing harmlessly beneath her. She planted her feet, and absentmindedly pulled back a strand of hair from her long, dirty blonde veil. “I wish I had brought something to tie my hair back with!” She thought strangely as she wound up for a third vertical strike.

He rolled again, this time the blade missing him by hairs. He sprung to his feet, knowing that his luck with stand-to-lay fighting would be dimming quickly. “Amazing showmanship for a first timer!” He thought. “If only I had taught her how to block properly, then this could even be a real match!”

His thoughts were interrupted as a horizontal strike passed beneath him as his reflexes carried him into the air. He tucked his knees in so tight that he was almost round, and landed again just in time to block a strike opposite the one he just dodged.

The dance of whirring blades and clanging metal continued as Jaden appeared around the bend carrying a third sword that he had folded just the previous week, in case one were to break or be too badly chunged. If Riku was as cool as Teth had said she was, it looked like it would soon be serving its purpose as the third addition to the rascal team’s arsenal.

Riku swung again vertically, hitting Teth’s sword and sliding down and off to the side. He folded back and mirrored her attack. Unsure of how to block a vertical attack, exactly, she instinctively braced herself, clenching her muscles. When she didn’t feel the sting of pierced skin or the dull hurt of a smashed cranium, she courageously opened one eye, and then the next. The diagonal of Teth’s blade was so close to her face she had to cross her eyes to focus on it.

Withdrawing his blade and thrusting it into the dirt, he said, “That would be how you win a match. As you can see, we’re quite lackadaisical when it comes to each other’s safety,”

“I can see that!” she exclaimed, exasperatedly wiping the sweat from her brow.

Teth caught sight of Jaden out near the corner of the house, then remarked, “So, did you enjoy our version of hanging out?”

She nodded. “Very much so!”

“And can we expect to see you on our turf more often?”

A smile crept to her lips and she responded, “As often as I can get away! This beats the living daylight out of studying history or practicing calligraphy!”

Teth smiled, and held out his arm, seemingly in some sort of salute. Rather, his fingers closed around the hilt of a blade, not unlike its sisters (although it was well polished and had not dent nor ding).

“Jaden made this for you,” He lied, winking inconspicuously at his friend, who gave him the thumbs-up. Teth noticed her eyes light up, and his heart jiggled a little in satisfaction. She turned around and gave a wave to Jaden, who was making his way toward them.

--

That night, Teth, Jaden, Ruki and Abul sat around a beach fire, listening to the sound of the broken waves and roasting saccharines, a garden fruit that tasted like orange-peel candy and strawberries, and talking amongst themselves. As one conversation drew to a close, a gust of evening summer wind blew across the water, and Ruki hugged her knees a little closer. “My parents are going to be furious with me,” She realized with a saddened sigh.

“No doubt,” said Jaden, testing the squishiness of his pear-like fruit. “But at least they can’t keep you from going out again,”

“Well, they put a lock on my window, and after tonight, there’s not a chance in the high heavens that they won’t seal it,” Ruki replied.

“Obviously you don’t know these two real well,” countered Abul. “There’s not a lock on the island that can keep these two in or out of anything if they really want!”

“Not on the island or in the world,” Jaden added, taking an impatient bite into his prize.

“That’s great!” She exclaimed. “When can I see you guys again?”

“I suppose that depends on how early you rise, milady.” Teth answered.

“As late as I can manage, though my mother usually shakes me out of bed before sunrise. And Ruki will do fine.”

“Teth can usually do all his work long before sunrise. He’s a machine!” Jaden exclaimed.

“Here’s another question for you,” Teth continued, ignoring Jaden’s comment. “Would you brave water that has not yet been warmed by the sun? Kauro and Kairom will be out all night, and they should radiate a little heat,” He added, enticingly gesturing at the green and blue orbs governing the vision of the eastern sky.

“I don’t know if I want…” She began, recollecting the awkwardness of seeing Teth naked. She hesitated at the idea of being bare in front of them.

“You can relax. We’re no rakes.” Jaden said bluntly. “In fact, we seek to beat rakes up at every available opportunity!”

“Get a grip girl!” She ordered, silently. “It’s a challenge, and I won’t turn it down. I can’t! I need to show these guys that I can do anything that hey can!”

“Ah heck! I’ll give it a shot!”

They exchanged smiles.

The boys bid farewell to Ruki as she climbed the tree. Her mother had mercifully left the window unlocked, most likely knowing that Ruki would rather come through there than face her father. She gave them a final wave, and turned to climb her tree. She took one last look as she crawled through the open window and closed it.

Just as she was pulling off her clothes to get ready for bed, she noticed something weighing her small pocket down. She removed the item and took a look. It was an almost perfect sand-dollar, a rare occurrence in Athnomian. Attached to it was a tiny ribbon, reading in the ancient tongue, “The sun riseth ere you shalt know it,”

“Could it be?” She wondered.

She woke up in the morning to a rather annoying tap tap taping on her window. She sat up and saw Jaden outside motioning her to the window. Much to her surprise, the window opened when she slid it, most definitely the product of the boys’ craftiness. Wearing just sleeping bloomers and a nightgown, she took the jump to her branch and dropped, not daring to shimmy down. She was determined to give Teth a run for his money. The impact from the landing hurt her bare feet, but she wouldn’t let him see that.

The three of them wandered breathlessly toward the west beach, the glow of the sun nowhere to be found in the distance. Ruki yawned many times before reaching Abul’s garden. They stood themselves next to the apple tree closest to the sand.

“Alright,” Jaden announced. “We’ll go ahead and turn around if you want to hang your clothes on that branch for safe-keeping.”

“Don’t bother,” She replied. “You ain’t rakes right? I don’t got nothin’ to hide!”

The two shrugged stupidly as she pulled off her top. She paused. “What’s a matter? You boys getting cold feet?” She challenged. The two looked at each other with defiant eyes, and proceeded to strip down.

“I’d suggest jumping in all at once,” Teth said as they neared the water’s edge. “It will seem much colder if you insist on numbing each quarter of your body before proceeding.”

She bit her lip as she dipped her finger into the freshwater ocean. As much as she couldn’t bring herself to refuse a challenge, she wished she hadn’t agreed to this. She was okay with cooler temperatures but this water was downright freezing! She half expected her finger to be encased in ice when she pulled it out.

“What’s a matter?” Teth taunted. “You getting cold…cold?” He added as he took the plunge into the icy water, with Jaden in close suit.

“You have to go through with this,” She told herself. “It will all be better once you have no more control over the situation! Dang it girl, give up the control!” She hopped feebly into the water, only to realize that she hadn’t quite cleared the sandbar. Sitting, the water only reached halfway up her chest. Teth and Jaden’s laughs were silenced almost immediately when her eyes shot rays of fire further chilling their already shivering figures.

She pulled her hair back as she immersed herself in the glassy void of blackness. When she released it, it flowed in rivers with the particles of water, gliding from her scalp down to her lower back. The water saturated it and darkened its hue, and the breeze blew virtual icicles into its now darkened locks as she resurfaced.

“Cold isn’t it? Teth stated.

“Noho…nnnnot realllllly,” She lied through her shivers.

“Well come on! It gets warmer after you swim with it some.”

They floated out into a magic spot where the otherwise even surface dipped slightly. Teth first, then Jaden dove under the water, and seemed to disappear. Rolling her eyes at the utter ridiculousness of the situation, she took the same plunge.

Instantly, a current of water moving incredibly fast caught her front side and whirled her violently as if she was just another particle in the underwater river. She finally managed to stabilize herself, and began swimming clumsily with the current. She closed her eyes as she felt the tantalizing streams of water molecules flow over her, and around her, flowing around the curves of her body and propelling her forward from the resistance points on her arms, underarms and legs. She had considered, when faced with the prospect of being naked in front boys she didn’t even know that well, of sowing some kind of temporary garments for the use of the morning swim. “Now,” She thought, “I’m glad that the prospect of being intimidated prevented me from taking that action.” She understood why these guys liked to swim.

When she opened her eyes, the water in front of her had a bluer tint to it. The rocky cliff and coral floor became illuminated by the two giant moons in the sky. She could see the early-waking fish swimming in the current with her, investigating this new attraction. They didn’t seem confused or threatened, just curious. The added illumination also gave her a view of the boys, far ahead of her. Ignoring the growing fire in her chest, she raced on, determined to catch them.

When she arrived, her lungs were about to burst within her. The boys took a look at each other, and pulled up. She, gratefully, did the same. The current was closer to the surface now, and it still carried them when they took a break to breathe.

“So Ruki, you enjoying this?” Teth asked.

“I’d be enjoying it a lot more if I could stay under water! The wind is freezing up here!”

“Well take a deep breath and be ready to hold your ears, princess! We’ve got something to show you!” Jaden voiced.

The boys waited with an expectant look on their faces, then all at once dove again, this time avoiding the cylindrical, sub-hydroplanar river. She did the same, following close on their heels. They dove and dove, until her ears began ringing under the pressure. She had never been in such deep water, and the concept of water pressure had never been explained to her. But still they dove until the pressure was almost unbearable. They were slowly approaching a rock formation under water. It looked like a large conical mound of lumpy lava rock breaching the surface just enough to be seen above water, and much bigger below. As they neared, she noticed that they were heading toward a hole at its base. They entered the cavern and claustrophobia kicked in. There was a roof, and almost no hope of air. Much to the relief of her ears, they hit a shaft that ran upwards, until they again breached the surface.

Inside, there seemed to be a whole world filled with hard rock cavities and shiny things encrusted into the walls. Moonlight and fresh air beamed in through a small whole in the ceiling, and a redrock sand beach sloped out of the water.

“Welcome to our place,” Teth said, crawling out of the water.

“This is where we come every morning, just for fun,” added Jaden with a smile.

Ruki took a few steps out, remembering how heavy she was in regular air. Her hair, more red now than yellow, clung to her fair shoulders and cooled her off. “Although,” She thought. “The air in here is much warmer than it is outside,”

“There’s a small flow of lava somewhere deep inside the cave,” Jaden explained. “It heats the water, and the air. We love it in the winter!”

“You guys swim in the winter?” She said, cocking an eyebrow.

“Every day,” Teth confirmed.

“This place is amazing!” She admired as she took a seat on the radiating rock.

“If we could live on sandstone and lava rock, we would build a house down here and live in it. Just think, no chores, no work, no nothing!” Teth said.

“That would be awesome! Nobody could gawk at us. Heck, we wouldn’t even have to wear clothes! Look at us now!” Ruki marveled.

“I see that our mentality has caught on with you,” Jaden teased.

“I’d be lying to say that it hasn’t.” She said. “This is a lot of fun! Most people would see this as decadent, but if that’s not the idea and you can get past the initial timidity, it’s really just having a good time!”

“Exactly!” Teth exclaimed.

“In short,” added Jaden, “Naked is freedom, not dirty!”

They sat around talking, and rubbing their hands across the scratchy rock. A tiny bird even flew in and joined them, and gave them a little chirp of approval. Nature, they decided, complimented nature. Their conversation came to a close as Ruki noticed that the black in the sky had become a pale blue. The sun was undoubtedly starting to rise over the eastern horizon.

“Let’s do this. People will be waking up within the hour, and the fishermen will be out real soon.” Teth warned. Ruki got up, dusted herself off, and prepared to back herself into the water, but stopped when she saw that the guys were climbing up, and not down. She continued to watch as Jaden first, and with a silent “Come here,” Teth as well jumped from the overhanging cliff ten feet into the water with a splash. Again, she wouldn’t be showed up. She put her toes to the edge, and took a deep breath.

“Here it goes,” She said through the pounding in her chest. She jumped, and hit the water, and swam downward with as much fury as possible, fighting the water’s natural tendency to push her back up. She swam until the pressure again squeezed her ears like a hot poker, but ignored it for as long as she could while she swam through the tunnel and back out into open water.

They swam until they met the current again, and added its speed to theirs. The water hugged them and pushed them on as their rhythmic strokes tried feebly to outrun it. Deciding she was ready to show off a bit (a bad habit of hers but one she was always willing to indulge in), she stroked harder until she was swimming right below them. She rolled so she was face up and folded her hands as if she was sleeping.

“A little competition is always healthy,” the thought raced through Teth’s mind like a fleeting impulse overwhelming thought and reason. That’s the way he liked it. He pulled up and broke the surface, and began sprinting his own variation of freestyle.

“Is that the way it is?” She grinned, and pulled up and tried to match his speed.

Although he was anatomically superior and he was well conditioned by the book, Ruki’s impulsive will, instinctive competitiveness and determination hadn’t read that particular book. She tore on, exhausting her muscles, energy, and tapping into that feeling that runs through your gut when you’re excited or scared. Her petit-looking figure was deceptive, and it even gave her an advantage. On top of the element of surprise, her body was more hydro-dynamic, and she was sure she could out-swim him.

They tore on, and Jaden with them. They soon became neutrally propellant with the current. “That must mean we’re going its speed and again,” Teth decided. She pulled up next to him and had time to shoot a fleeting glance before she razed her head just high enough to breathe. She really didn’t know how to swim that well, but she could imitate his movements well enough to keep up.

Their eyes met again and urged each other on with exponential ferocity. The reef and the cliff gave way to a deep sandbar as they rounded the corner onto the straightaway of the eastern shore. Their pace began slowing, if only a little, but their hearts continued to beat in unison as they stroked with all their might. It was Teth that stopped. For no reason she could see, he simply went limp in the water and ground to a halt.

As she flipped around and pulled out of the current, her hair lagged behind, reminding Teth of the pictures of mermaids he had seen in the different Chronicles of the Ancients books. Her eyes went from death grip-fire to a look of iraed confusion. “Why did you stop? I was having fun!” her eyes seemed to say as she swam backwards to meet him.

They broke the surface and the silence around them amazed his senses as always. Other than the sound of the tiny waves braking on the reef and the trickle of water on water where the current met the surface, there was nothing.

“Hey! You let me win!” She said once she caught her breath.

“It’s not that,” He said, mildly ashamed.

“You’ll have to excuse him,” Jaded said. “He always has to stop in this one spot. I’ll never understand why.”

“Neither will I,” Teth supplemented.

He looked at the large, sandstone formation poking out of the water by which they were stopped. There, again, was that tiny fist sized swirl that cut into the rock where the water flowed in and sandpapered it away. He didn’t know why he always stopped here, but something extracerebral compelled him to. Most of the time, he didn’t even leave the current. He just popped his head out of the water and let the current take him by as he simply stared at it.

Has anybody ever thought what eve was thinking when she was beguiled by the serpent? I mean, I know she was inspired and she understood that taking upon herself the transgression would multiply and replenish the earth and blah blah blah. I understand, but my point is: She was beguiled by a talking snake. Isn't that just like a dead giveaway right there? Who cares what the dang thing is saying, that snake is not supposed to be talking! I mean, the scenario I find more likely is eve is minding her own business and whatnot, when the serpent comes up and says, "Yo, eve, babe, why dontcha just eat a little from that tree over there? You know you want to."

Rather than say, "Well God did give all trees unto us for sustainance," I would think she would have said, "What the frick! A talking snake! Kill it! Kill it now!" Then Adam runs around from behind a bush and throws a fourty pound rock on the things head. No fall, no fruit, no satan. Significance: Absolutely nothing. I just think it would have been funny if it had turned out that way.

And besides, that way man and women could live in a pretty little garden and be naked all the time with no thought to give a rip. That, my friends, would be awesome.

Sweet! All of http://www.randomus.com is up to date...almost. All of the movies and videos have been redone so now all can watch it streamed instead of downloading each movie. The buffering is a little slow, but you can just pause it for about ten seconds and let it stream ahead, then it should be fine. I put up the statistic attacks, and i'm putting up a couple of sparring matches as we speak. It's awesome!

Grades sucking...but not as bad as they've been, so I guess things are still looking up. I've still got a 3.4 overall, which isn't terrible. More than enough to get me a plane ticket to japan after graduation just in savings from car insurance. Which reminds me, I'll be roading soon. At least, I should. My birthday's in what? 3 weeks? Let's see...*shuffles quarters* yeah, two weeks and six days. I'm thinking network starcraft. That'd be pretty sexy. 'Course, I still got to finish making those blankets for homeless children before my parents will let me have my drivers license. *sighs*.

I took the project up way back in March of '03, but then in '04 my Mom got diagnosed with cancer and my Dad and I had to stop the whole dang project for a year and take care of her while she went through treatment. Then it took almost another year to get back into it, and now here I am in 2006 with only four quilts done. And then...they're not even done. They still have to be bound. Pathetic really. That's like a quilt a year. But what does one do? I just don't like to sew. Is that a sin? Should all men be required to love sewing? AM I A CRIME AGAINST NATURE?! Actually that's probably fairly normal, so I'll shut up now ^_^

So...Birthday...sixteen...drive...date...fun. Yesterday was my lan party. It was kinda lame, but that's fine cuz we all had a great time...I think we did anyway. And that was the goal, so weather or not we finished at ten >.< it was still okay.

On a random sidenote, I had a weird dream last night. I dreamed that I was going over to Colleens to housesit (I never house sit, jut babysit) and somehow the dream made a jump to me leading all the kids in her couldesac on an upstream kayak/kanoe trip on like a giant lazy river type thing. Scoot's mom got on one of those green fome floaters and started down the river, and we all got in and started upstream. Well, I'm not sure it's before or after this next part...but here's where it gets really weird. We got suxked into...dang. Some of the charicters reminded me of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusaide, but it had Azlan (sp?). It was kinda cool though. Somehow, on top of being in the Dream, I was also watching it on my computer. I remember cuz Laura was at home and I explained that the one Nazi General used to be really big, but in the prequel he got age-rayed so now he looked like a nineteen year old with a face of a 50 year old.

Aslan pulled a moses. At one time we were on the tale of the Nazis (wtf?) and I saw Aslan and two other people I didn't recognize on the hillside. I stared at him for a long time, and finally he motions to me to go back to where we were camped. I start walking away, just as Aslan starts a rockslide so massive that it consumes everybody but me and my camp. And through the whole thing there was this facination with the soul train. The Soul Train was...well it looked like a steam locomotive, but it wasn't carried by wheels, it was carried by four-story-tall porters. For some reason somebody in my party kept trying to blow the train's engines out. I didn't think about it at the time, but maybe somebody he loved dearly had just died and was on the train. I do know that that's what the train did...shuttle people between the living world and the next world.

Somehow we got back on the river...or else the whole river scene happened after the Nazi/Azlan part. I'm not real sure which, but they are seperate dreams, because we were on the river for recreational purposes and there weren't any Nazis or even fear of Nazis. We paddled up the river aways. I'm sure stuff happened on the river, but all I can remember of it is that eventually I got over a breaker (I was still ahead a few yards) and the waves got bigger. A monster wave came over me and knocked me upside down. I'm not stupid, so I wait a second to see how deep the river is, then calmly bail out and go see if everybody else who cleared the breaker was alright. Everybody was, so I had to paddle like 500 yards back upstream and dive for my submerged Kayak. After retreiving it, we see on object float down a waterfall/waterslide. When it gets closer we find that it's just "Mom" (Scoot's Mom we call Mom). Then we all go back to Scoot's house for Happy Juice. I'm pretty sure the dream ended when Mom and Dad (again, Scoot's) were talking about how it went and how strong we must have been to go upstream for two days.

Welcome to the randomness of me.

(Long Intro. Fades into storage room with Scoot, Swiffer, and BBD. Shows Swiffer has bad wound in his abdomen. He is healing it.)

(Note, Swiffer is in a bad mood in this scene)

Scoot: Congradulations gentlemen. The bastard statistic that killed Kyo finally bit the dust.

Swiffer: We've spent all this time on a quest to avenge Kyo. Now what do we do?

BBD: Well, I suppose we should start putting the planet back together.

Scoot: Isn't that what the power plant is for?

BBD: That slowed the decay of the earthfragments way down, but it's still drifting apart. Every few years the rift zones get a few inches bigger.

Swiffer: Can't the pausebreak realign the hazel river thingies?

Scoot: I think it already did as good as it's going to get.

BBD: Putting it in the powerplant again would give us control over the city, but we don't know what else will happen.

Scoot: The world might just fall apart the second we even try.

(Aquard Silence)

(Suddenly, swiffer gets an angry face and gets up and leaves suddenly)

Scoot: What's his problem?

BBD: I think he wanted the final blow on the statistic. Remember, he was closer to Kyo than any of us.

Scoot: Yeah, I guess you're right. After it all went to hell, Kyo acted like a father to him.

(Cuts to Swiffer in Scoot's room. Gets a shot of his face. He lets out a howl of pain and punches the wall. He colapses onto the futon. He gets an iraied/thoughtful expression. Camera zooms into his eye and crosszooms into flashback.)

(Flashback Scene #1. Crosszooms into the basement living room thingy. Scoot and swiffer are sitting on either side of the table. Kyo and BBD walk in. BBD is carying a big rlled up paper thingy. Kyo helps him lay it out on the table.)

BBD: These are blueprints for this planet's last hope.

Kyo: He did all the hard stuff. I just showed him how to make it look sexy.

BBD: It looks like a giant tinker toy.

Kyo: HEEE!

BBD: Scoot, get me that book over there.

Scoot: The one we found in the forest?

BBD: That's the one.

(Scoot hands BBD the book. BBD Opens it to the cut pages and removes the pausebreak)

BBD: The book calls this the pausebreak. It was designed by someone to correct the decay of the earth's soul matter. The hazel energy.

Swiffer: The what?

BBD: The green glowy stuff in the sky.

Kyo: We figured out that something, or someone tampered with the pausebreak while it was still in development. They figured out that by aligning some of the cogs backwards, it would work backwards.

BBD: Instead of healing the planet, it broke it.

Swiffer: So this thing caused the apocolypse?

Kyo: Sort of.

BBD: The reactor is a reverse-engineered version of the original plant they used to try and fix the planet. Once it's complete, we may be able to heal the earth.

Scoot: Completely?

BBD: No. But it will realign the flows of the Hazel Energy. The only place it will be visible is in the rift zones. Those will be the last places on earth that you can see real light.

Kyo: If we did it right, the hazel stuff will work like etherial duck tape on the earthfragments.

BBD: If we did it right, then we will be able to control the Hazel Energy.

(Flashes to flashback scene #2)

(Flashback Scene #2. Shows Swiffer and Kyo fighting statistics. They womp. When the last one falls to it's knees, they walk toward each other and clasp hands)

Both: Oh yeah!

(cuts to shot behind Bum, who is sitting on a rock above them. Bum jumps down and joins them [They jump a little])

Bum: Beat you the statistics good.

Swiffer: Who are you?

Bum: Been alone long too much. Name I don't remember.

(Kyo walks up to him, puts his hand on his shoulder)

Kyo: I dub thee...Bum.

Bum: Whatever.

Swiffer: So...whaddaya want?

Bum: Let you know that someone on your side is. Now, return to the flow can, knowing not alone.

Kyo: You talk weird.

Bum: Bite me.

Kyo: I like this dude.

Swiffer: What 'flow' do you mean?

Bum: Hazel Flow. When you die, spirit go to flow does. That's why alive we've been so long. Took we from the Hazel Energy. When we die, flow wants back.

(Echoes bum's last words as flashback fades to Swiffer on futon again)

(Swiffer gets up and walks downstairs. BBD and Scoot are asleep on the beanbags. Swiffer rouses BB)

Swiffer (Whisper): BB! Wake up!

BBD: What?

Swiffer (Still Whisper): Did you ever build the pausebreak extractor?

BBD: Yeah. In case Scoot ever got converted, we could take the pausebreak out of him.

Swiffer: Get it for me.

BBD: Why?

Swiffer: I think we can bring Kyo back with the pausebreak.

BBD: How?

Swiffer: I'll explain on the way.

(BB gets up and picks up the lantern. He opens up the batery case and pulls out a funky looking thing. He walks up to Scoot and points it at his left boob. Light flashes from inside and the pausebreak drifts out into BB's hand)

Swiffer: Great! Let's go!

(Scene of them leaving the house and running down the street. Zooms out to show the statistic's shoulder. Theme music and credits)

(Long intro. Couple of cuts (short collage) of reactor. BBD and Swiffer approach. Cuts to closer scene of them)

Swiffer: And so we can control the Hazel with the pausebreak and the reactor, and extract Kyo's spirit.

BBD: If Scoot catches us we're in deep crap.

(Entering reactor)

Swiffer: Oh yeah we are!

(Pans across Reactor)

BBD: I haven't seen this place in nearly six centuries.

(Swiffer looks around.)

Swiffer: Wow, we really threw this thing together.

BBD: Well, Kyo and I designed it in less than a decade. What more could we do?

Swiffer: So where do we put it?

(BBD draws the pausebreak. Closeup of pausebreak as BBD passes it to Swiffer)

BBD: On the console

(Swiffer and BBD walk over to the console. Swiffer prepares to place the pausebreak in the console. The statistic appears and knocks it out of his hands. Begins beating on him furiously. BBD pulls gun and fires two rounds. Closeup of BBD shifting the safety to red. Fires auto rounds. Lots and lots of them. Pumps lead into Statistic. Statistic grabs gun burrel and uses it to knock him on the head and put him out. Swiffer gets on his feet and tries to front thrust kick stat. Stat grabs his leg and throws him to the floor. Stat stomps on Swiff's knee, then walks over to BB and grabs him by the leg and drags him outside

Cuts to outside.

(Cuts to outside the power plant. Statistic drags BB out onto the wood. Rips off BB's shirt and starts frisking his limp form looking for the pausebreak. Swiffer stumbles out of the reactor, limping. Swiff takes a swing and the statistic dodges, parries, and counters with a blow to the head. Statistic summons BB's sword and stabs it through swiffer's bicep. He screams. Statistic tries to begin searching Swiffer, but he won't let it. Swiff dobule kicks it in the face, pulls the sword out, and tries a double attack with both the claymore and katana. Statistic catches both attacks at Swiffer's wrists, and throws him back down. Statistic drop-kicks him in the groin. He calls in extreme pain, but not loud because it's so painful it stifles itself. Swiffer puts his head down and throws up a little onto the wood.

Statistc paces around Swiffer's crumpled form slowly. It stops and looks down at him. It reaches down and picks up the claymore. Swiffer groans but does not let go of the sword. Statistic makes funky statistic sound. It reaches for the other sword. Swiffer will not let go of that one either. Statistic reaches down and lifts Swiffer up by his neck. Punches him down to the wood and swiff drops the swords and rolls to the cliffs. Statistic walks over.

Statistic reaches down to get into Swiffer's pocket. Closeup of Swiffer's face. His eyes open a little. Flashes memories of Kyo, and one of him being killed (almost subliminal. Think FFVIIAC). Swiffer grabs Stat's hand as it pulls away with the pausebreak. Statistic pulls hand away easily, and backhands Swiffer across the face. Turns, and begins walking towards the reactor. Swiffer grabs ahold of Stat's Ankle. Statistic trips, and pausebreak bounces and rolls towards the "No trespassing" sign. It goes over.

Statistic is preocupied with pausebreak. Swiffer summons claymore and stabs it into Statistic's calf. Loud statistic sound. Swiffer tries to stand up weakly. Statistic stands up (favoring leg) and punches Swiffer's head into the cliff. He checks, and realizes it's bleeding. He doesn't care. He takes a horizontal swing at the statistic, who blocks with its forarm. Grabs Swiffer by throat, and repeats hook-punch, backhand, hook-punch, backhand, about five times. Grabs his face with other hand, slams his head into the cliff, runs it down the side as Swiffer collapses into a half sitting position, and pushes his face into the rock one more time. Shows swiffer out cold.

Statistic begins limping towards the gate. Stops, turns around and looks down. Shows Swiffer (extremely) weakly swinging his blade at the statistic's ankles. It turns back around and walks over to Swiffer's limp, writhing body. Reaches down to take the sword away. Swiffer won't let go. Statistic summons Katana, and prepares to stab down Sephi style.

Music drastically changes as the Sakabatou parries the strike into the cliffside.)

<<Let Scoot Coreograph this scene>>

(Eventually statistic falls down the canyon.

Scoot picks Swiffer up.)

Scoot: You don't look so good dude.

Swiffer: I don't feel so good.

Scoot: What hurts?

Swiffer: Every part of my head that still has nurves.

Scoot: Good.

(Scoot's face get's angry as he punches Swiffer across the face)

Scoot: What the hell were you guys thinking? Stealing the pausebreak! Running off to the reactor! What was I supposed to think when I woke up and felt it missing?!

Swiffer: I think I can bring Kyo back.

(Scoot chews on that angrily for a moment, then his face softens)

Scoot: You know better than that.

Swiffer: But, Bum. He said that when we die...

Scoot: I know. I know. Don't worry about it.

Swiffer: I lost the pausebreak. It went over.

BBD (voice only): No it didn't.

(Cuts to BBD on other side of the gate holding pausebreak)

(BB walks over and gives the Pausebreak to Scoot. Scoot obsorbs it. Group hug.

Sexy shot (steadycam): Camera walks backwards out through the gate, then banannas uphill to on the mountain, then circles around the hill above it, all the time staying on the powerplant. Theme music and credits)

Been a while. Oh well, I've never really been good at keeping an active blog moving.

Finally started practicing on stick. I suck. By the time I'm roadworthy ther'll be nothing left of the clutch. I've been inside used transmissions enough before to see what happens to a poor guys' clutch.

Randomus.com is now no longer only in english, but also services Japanese. Randomus Japan is still in production, however many of the pages themselves have already undergone translation. It's time consuming. I have to cross referance my translations with Spikey to be sure I'm not saying something wrong. Right now I'm subbing all our movies. I won't even bother with the videos. There's not enough dialauge in the videos to worry about. I may or may not translate the titles of stuffs. I don't know.

I'm going camping tomorrow. Not that i don't like camping and/or the lifeless deserts of the reserves, but it's not really how I'd prefer to spend my spring break. Especially since I won't be there with any of my friends...particularly my female friends. *Sigh*.

Sixteen. I can date now right? Wrong. My parents won't let me drive at all except to practice until I finish my Eagle Project. My goal is that by the end of the month, all of it will be taken care of. I am confident I can get as far as finishing up the actual work, but then there's all the aproval crap again and i really, really, realy really realy realy don't want to go through that again. Squaw Peak/Bridal Vale Falls Boy Scout District Eagle lady is a...uh....well, she's not a feminist, but that's what I'm going to call her. Why am I going to call her that? The answer lies at the bottom of the Book of Quotes page on Randomus. The term feminist is another stepping stone I use towards a less profaine tongue.

To get the okay to even start working on the project took three years. I started this project when I was thirteen. I put in all the actual hours of service in between this time last year and now. The whole rest of the time was trying to get appointments, correct writup flaws, modify project details, and then sit through hour after hour of this lady from the District Eagle Board critiquing my project to death. You know, I really don't think the freezing, starving children of Uzbemonibannanastan really care that I paid for the Krispy Kreme refreshments for the activity out of my own pocket. Good gravy!

My fear is that I will have a repeat of that this time around. Only this time if she doesn't like something, I don't get to tweak it, I get to screw it. I get to start all over with the project from square one. I have a running total of 80ish hours put into this. I only have until I'm eighteen, and I really don't want to wait that long to become an Eagle Scout. After all, I CANT DRIVE UNTIL I AM ONE!!!

So that's where I'm at. Done ranting, now panting. So here's the plan:

Step 1: Finish Eagle

Step 2: Learn Stick

Step 4: Finish paying off my Mazda

Step 5: Pull up to her house unexpectedly, and pick her up. We've got a pocket full of nickles and time to kill.

What, a guy can dream can't he? 

Well, sorry for all those people who actually read this stuff. There's about to be a lot more of it.

The Seminary thinks that I need to start writing in my journal all the time. And since this is the closest thing I have to a journal, you all get to suffer for it. If I miss a day, it means that it's probably something I'd rather not others read about.

So starts the 30 day PJS challenge:

Okay. Today. I guess it's a lot like other days. Mom won't get out of bed in the morning, and Dad makes me. Shower, breakfast (I did not know I liked french toast sticks), school. I usually bring the frisbee for dodge frisbee at lunch (www.randomus.com has the professional dodge frisbee games up on streamed video now), but I couldn't find the frisbee, so we played football instead. Which is great cuz none of us can play.

Today was the first day in a month that Park actually made us memorize Japanese words. I guess he finally finished his masters at the Y so now he's not to tired to actually...uh...teach.

Had a test in health today. The good news is: it means that I no longer have to sit through sex ed. I mean, it's not like it's stuff we don't know. These are not the secret fundamentals taught only to married couples anymore, unfortunately. So now we get to go back to normal stuff, which is just as boreing only maybe just mostly as pointless.

 Oh, and Kyo's up to something. He keeps telling me that I need to buy a tux. He won't tell me why. Come to think of it he won't tell me who, what, when, where, or how, either. If the twerp has set me up, he and she are about to be sorely dissapointed. Unless Alisa is free between now and...whenever (not likely) then this whole situation will have been frustrated. My first date is going to be rather something meaningful.

But so goes it. I feel bad, but I gotta do what's right by me. Anyway, I guess not much more to report, other than I weigh a lot less from having hiked so long thursday. Oh yeah, that story's not in here. I'll make it the short version.

Dad and I went down to Havasupai over Spring Break, which is about and hour outside of Kingman on Route 66, just over the Hoover Dam. You go to a place called Havasu Hilltop on the south rim of the Grand Canyon, and hike down ten miles to the campground below an indian villiage called Supai. The Havasupai tribe has been on that land since the time of the Nephites...or...let's see....pretty close anyway. So we did the hike thing, got down, set up camp, and then had a boreing couple of days. It was nice down there, like a tropical forest in the middle of Nevada, but there just wasn't all that much to do. We hiked down to some humungous water falls above and below the campground. Dad took off from the lower falls and hiked all the way down to the Colorado river, which he really enjoyed cuz A he's a maniac and B he had a picture taken of himself at that very same spot when he was twelve when he and Grandpa Wane used to run the river down in the Grand. Grandpa did that for a living during the summers when he wasn't teaching.

So, on the hike out, we paid fourty bucks to get mules to haul our packs out. I wasn't complaining. We had breakfast in the villiage, which for some reason made my stomach do weird things. So I was feeling yucky, so Dad told me to stay on this little dinky path which ran parallel the village water canal. The trails seperated, and the real trail crossed the river, which put me on the wrong side. I tried to backtrack to the crossing, but I was afraid I'd get lost, so I moved forward trying to cross the river. I kept trying to work my way to the right, when all of a sudden, I was as far right as I could go. There was a canyon wall in front of me. So I found the trail and went up it. Well, a dukie and four miles later I realize that I must have ended up in the wrong canyon. So I got to hike four miles back. I crossed the river before it was even very large, and ended up in the propper canyon. Unfortunately, on top of the two miles from the camp ground to the villiage, four miles up, and four miles back, I had another seven-ten miles to go.

About five miles later, exhausted and running low on water, Dad catches up with me. He had gone to report me missing. So he had hiked close to eighteen miles already, and I had hiked...oh by that time it must have been, almost fifteen, fourteen about. By this time it's like 1:00. We woke up early to beat the afternoon sun for nothing. Hiked the remaining four to five miles out (including what has been dubbed either the Stairway to Heaven or the Stairway from Hell, which is an incredibly long, incredibly steep switchback trail up the canyon wall back to the parking lot at Havasu Hilltop. We had planned on getting back that night. It's a ten hour drive home. It was seven. We stayed at a motel. Dinner at Cracker Burrel. Excelent, might I add (course, after twenty miles of hiking in the Desert sun, just about anything would have tasted good. But oh man, Rib-Eye Steak, Baked Potato, French Salad, and Real Lemonade in Frosted Mug. Hard to beat). But in any case, I'm in better shape now than I've been since the fifty miler. I love it!

Ok, so it wasn't the condensed version, but at least it's in here.

Fair Warning:

This page is going to be a long collection of rambling.

As if I didn't get enough instant oatmeal and hot chocolate in Havasu, Tobler thought it was requisite that we repeat the occasion. For those of you confuzed, I call my dad  Tobler. He calls me Tobler. It started at Maple Dell Boy Scout Summer Camp when I was eleven. The deacons called my dad (their scout master) Tobler. But now that I was hanging out with them too, he was Big Tobler, and I was Little Tobler or Baby Tobler. The two of us were able to discern which one the other was speaking of just because neither tends to talk in the present tense. Thus I would call "YO TOBLER!" when I was looking for him and he would reply "YO TOBLER!" It stuck.

Nothing new happened today. Spikey and I wrote notes to each other in Hiragana and Katakana and Japanglish during math today. If we keep passing notes, people are going to start thinking we're gay or something, but it's just too much fun. Besides, even if we were talking about suggestive stuff, it would be in Japanese! Unless somebody knew Japanese, which nobody in the class does, even so they wouldn't understand the humor.

Had to draw more butts today. Our drawing teacher can't seem to distinguish between immaturity and not wanting to stare at a misshapen butt for two hours. Is it so wrong that I don't want those images plastered to my mind?! Gaul!

Found my English packet. We're reading Chaim Potok's "The Chosen", which is about American Jews, orthodox and otherwise, during the 1940's. It's an alirght book, but it's got a lot of deeper meaning crap. I just want to read a book. If I really cared about parallelism and color realationships, I'll read Froid. Oh, and by the way, I'm never going to read Froid.

History Test. Probably did pretty good. Depresing though. When somebody has to memorize facts about the Depression, The Nuclear Bomb, Japanese American Internment camps, and the Holocaust, it makes for a depressing day. Worse yet, I can't get the images of what that bomb did to those people. I saw it, even though it was in anime form, it was realistic and acurate. I don't know about those bombs. Having studied the Japanese mentality at the time, I'm fairly confident that Hiroshima was the only way to make sure they would never rearm and come against us again. That doesn't mean, however, that I agreed with the descision. And then there's Nagasaki, wherein it's definately too far. One was more than enough. In fairness, I don't think Truman could have understood the descision he made to use the bomb fully. He never knew about the project and the effects. The blame goes to the scientists who developed it, and the administration that allowed it. And don't get me started on Topaz.

On a lighter note, I called Spandex. He's willing to double with Alisa and I Saturday. What remains to be seen is can he get a date on such short notice.

So, the hair on the back of my neck is standing up. Remember I said that Kyo is up to something,I think it has to do with MORP. I'm not sure what it is, but it's appearantly some sort of dance or date or somesuch, Girl's choice. You ever get that feeling right before your friends are about to drop water balloons on you from the roof, or do the thing with the shaving creme when you're sleeping? I feel two pine needles poking at my side. And to every needle there's a tree chock full of them.

Sereia wore her dad's Boy Scout uniform to school today. It made me giggle. I don't think she was impressed. I bought a Happy Juice.

Anybody with a PJS pamphlet will understand this next part. Otherwise, prepare to be confuzed by utter dumbness:

~Dad Blame It!

~Yarg

~Gerk

~Pretty Females

~Squishy

~Squish!

~Blargan

Okay that was random. Oh yeah, I found my frisbee. It was in my Backpack. That's the good news. The bad news it was "misplaced" - coughstolencoughgag - in third period. So we played Dodge Football again. I think I actually did better with football then with frisbee. And I wasn't late to History! Yay!

Today's Result: Failure. Not in the day, just in the...thing. Nevermind. So long as I know what it means. But I'm optimistic about tomorrow.

Today's going to be a busy day. I spent all morning on the lake with my dad (he rented cheap sea kayaks). I have to bide my time until like 3 at which point we'll be (censored). We'll be finished before seven, at which point (censored). I had planned to take Alisa out tonight, but I don't think we would have time. Even if we did, I havn't heard from the other couple or back from her when I tried to tell her about the (censored). Now I feel really bad because if she doesn't already know it will look like i'm backing out the last minute. Not that I wouldn't rather be on a date, but (censored) is really more important, beleive it or not.

This is more of my "Just so I can say I wrote" post, in case I forget to do a real one later on. The next one I do will explain (censored) and give details about how it went.

Alright, real post now.

Let's start with yesterday. We all went up to the big tinker toy again. It's our stage for the reactor. This time we bought the whole film crew. In fact, I had the whole studio on my back. The thing we didn't know about was the inside. Around the corner agaisnt the cliff and through a door is the actual interior. It was scarry, because of the rushing water underneath our feet. Water that flows down age-old pipes, underground, into a raging river. Like, if we toppled over the edge, there was no if about us dieing a terrible and painful death. But it was great footage. We spend most of the day up there. It was cool footage. Really really good.

So we went down to Provo River this morning, me and my dad. He rented some sea kayaks from UVSC. We put in and went down to provo, then back up to Lindon, then back to the river and back out. It was fun!

This afternoon Colleen took my parents out for their 25th Aniversary. While they were out, Laura flew in from San Diego, Erin and Amy drove down from Salt Lake, and we all worked together to set up a surprise party for their anniversary. We worked all day. I had a slideshow presentation prepared about them and their early lives up until their wedding. It was great. Amy cooked, Erin set up chairs and tables, Laura organized and brought some gay guy in to do the flowers, and such. It all came together perfectly. They came in and all our neighbors and friends shouted "Surprise!" It was awesome.

I'm hoping this will have been memorable for them. What's more special is that we all worked together to pull this off. I'm not very close to my sisters in age, so it's hard to have these kind of experiences anymore. But I found out that we really are a tight crew. We're all so different, but we love each other, and we love our parents.

So I've come up with a new strategy: walk into church and sit in the foyer until the meeting starts. That way the deprived deacons quorum can pick on their own apathetic members to help administer instead of tapping the teachers, priests, AND Elder's quorum. Jeez!

I was feeling kinda cruddy today, so I stayed at church long enough to renew my covenants and listen to a few talks, then drove home. Which now that I think of it is kinda sad, because even though Sacrament Meeting is the most important, it's also the draggiest. I'd of loved to go into sunday school. We're all just a bunch of friends in there, even if one of us is in her fifties, we're all still just friends. Talking, Hanging out, it's like being at Scoot's house only it's in best dress and there are no eighty-year-old Scottish drunks. Come to think of it, Poppy's now 85. The guy's doin well.

So that's basically all I did today as matter of importance. I also edited Phil's Spry Canyon Video and finished naming all of the Starcraft Sound Effects. Tedious, boreing, and perfect for a Sunday Afternoon. I also went home teaching. Beleive it or not I actually like doing that, just not so much when I have to give the lesson. I had to do the lesson this month. Bleh.

My Day.  Not all that interesting. But despite this morning's little discrepency in progress: I'm Black Nametag Bound! (Starts singing "I hope they call me on a mission, when I have grown an inch or two. I hope I can be a missionary, to work and sweat and toil like missionaries do)

POST POST EDIT:

I met a girl from Missouri and showed her Randomus. She loved it. Oh, and Kyo's hairbrained scheme is supposed to hatch tomorrow. Be afraid, be VERY afraid!

Another day. Bleh. A Monday.

For a Monday, things weren't so bad. Man, I had to press backspace in those last two sentances WAY too much. I am rather dissapointed the The Case of Kyo Kun's Stupid Hairbrained Scheme to Hook BB Up has not yet been solved. Is it wrong to anticipate such things? I guess the only reason I am as excitable as I am is because this whole thing was reportedly this mystery female's idea. I'm not sure weather to be flattered or frightened. After all, no matter how low on the totem pole one is, one still may have to run from those who one may not want to be seen with, in public or otherwise. Those are thoughts few of us prefer to dwell on, after all, those people are usually either freaks, high maintainance, sex hungry, or disgusting. But I can't be the judge of that until this caper is in the bag.

I lucked out today BIG TIME. I didn't do a scrap of weekend homework, but my Math teacher pittied us because she thought her homework was too hard and felt guilty enough to do it for us. Which is BS by the way because that class is soooo easy. I'd be in Pre-calc by now if my study habits were on par last year. And the year before. But whatever. That class is full of air heads. What's worse is the teacher seems to think that she's actually issuing difficult material, because every class period she spends fourty-five minutes going over the homework for the airheads that can't seem to figure it out. I'm dissing the teacher, but not complaining. If teachers want to make a class butt easy for me, they're more than welcome. Don't give me none of that "prepared for college" junk either.

Furthermore, I did my English homework in class. Oh, and I finished the cubism project in crapart. I may not like looking at cubism, but as a line drawing, especially of the tree house, it's kinda fun to draw. I fractured just enough of it so you can still tell that there's a hole and a trapdoor and a branch coming out of the floor, but enough that the floorboards were skewed and some were more like stairs from the top going off into the high heavens. It looked cool.

History on the other hand, there's no BS'ing in that class. But that's okay, because I had no weekend homework. We had a test.

So, maybe my luck has changed. It's certainly looked that way. I feel just a little upity lately. Maybe I shouldn't be though, because my grades are worse than they've been for two years because of all the time off from school. No trips next year. I don't care how much bonus my dad gets for inheriting old guys jobs, I'm paying through the teeth with my test scores. It's a singe I just can't take right now.

Anyway, that's my two cents for the day. Any tips on brown nosing teachers would be appreciated. Feel free.

Nothing especially new to report today. Test in physics I didn't study for. Watched Porcoroso for the first time in Japanese. Weird Show. Got the "How the Nephites went from total rightousness to total wickedness" lesson. Wrote down the steps. At least America is only halfway there. And since we can't cut it right at the "PRIDE" level, we need to do something about making church leaders in America support themselves instead of relying on their congregation. The Catholics would have issues with that, but it would make all the ministers more rightous anyway. That would at least drastically slow down the process. Maybe that would just about reverse all the "God made me this way so how can it possibly be wrong" crap going on in Christain sects. Especially with Abstinance and Fidelity (AKA Fornication and Adultry. Both SOOOO shot down in the Bible). Stuff like that makes me mad.

Oh yeah, and we started the Fat unit in Health. Everybody give three shouts for gluttony. I can't even spell the word.

Oh, and Mom and Dad went out to Outback for their anniversary and brought me. Yay.

Grades still sucking. Butkissing remains innefective.

Today was a good day I think. Did my homework this time. I got my art critisized in drawing. She said that I wasn't spending enough time on the colors. I think I might get kicked out of the class cuz I told her, "If this isn't good for anything but to wipe your (innapropriate word) with, you're welcome to go ahead and do that!" After all, I was doing the best that I could. I mean I was using prismacolor. How much time can you possibly spend with prismacolor?! I tried to wimper about being critisized to get a hug, but I couldn't keep a strait face. lol.

In History we managed to get...well not to modern days, but pretty darn close. We're in the fiftees right now. We almost made it to rock and roll before the bell rang. It was awesome. We did the whole Korean war in ten minutes. That was a lot of information to squeeze into ten minutes. Our class is the movie referance class. No matter what era we're talking about, someone in the class always has to mention a movie about the time period. This one was easy...MASH. Only that one has political commentary about vietnam, but it's still a historical setting.

We did a game night in the Japanese club. It was cool. I brought my SNES and people reawakened the kid in them, since this is the generation that cought the tail end of the world that SNES revolutionized. Street Fighter. Oh yeah! It doesn't matter how good of graphics or length or story of the game is, one must always return to the classics. It's like...most people would be happier watching MAD MAD MAD MAD WORLD instead of Rat Race, even if Rat Race has some sense of superiority (that's a pretty big 'if'. I actually don't think it has any sense of such, but that's beside the point). Yoda the Kindawise (Google: SOPEGIRLS) gave me a ride home so I could get my box of Nintendo crap and Kyo's bag of Nintendo crap to my house because he had to go to work and...well I wanted my Nintendo crap. She's nice. We've decided it's time for another anime night. Appearantly she misses us 'fanboys'. Persoanally I prefer !US!, but to each her own. Anyway, great fun.

Furthermore, mutual was Karaoke, which was actually not terribly boreing. We needed to sing to get food. I wanted food. Good food too. It was at Northridge, so I got to play at the old park playground. Lava tag, regular tag, frisbee tag, just like old times. Sang "How do you like me now" by Toby Kieth. Dude's a stud. The only artist who had the courage to tell Utah to 'put a foot in [terrorist] ass. Oops, I slipped. Oh well. And I talked to Jessica for the first time since...oh jeez.  Kindergarden? I think I made about the same impression I did then. Now it'll be another ten years before she takes a second look at me. Dang.

I'm starting to think the Case of Kyo's blah blah blah blah blah is a load of crap. Whoever she is is probably too scared to like...do anything about it. Probably some really shy girl, which means she thinks I'm out of her league, and if she thinks that...mean as it sounds she may be right. Ah, but pessimism never got anybody a nickle cept to shut em up. Maybe she's a really cool girl, she's just got a specific time set in mind to...well I don't actually know. Yet another frustration.

Which reminds me, the date of the date hangs in the air. I need to get on that. Too tired tonight.

Oh, and on a closing note, I'm finally putting together RJ's little brother Johnathon's Elemental Conflict deck. It's about time eh? Who knows. Maybe I'll resurect the game. I would like that.

Peace to all those who seek peace. For those who seek not peace, go pick a fight with a preppie. Get some use out of your psychotic lust for violence.

So, are my now daily blogs annoying? Good.

Mom was awake this morning. That NEVER happens. Family scripture study is better described as two half-drunken men trying to stay awake while reading the D&C.

I'm still drawing Azumanga meets the !US! Crew. It's really fun. I'm drawing the Sum-Dog vs the Legions of the  Undead chapter. Just a random tangent to the actual story-line: or lack therof. I included Uncle Sam in the comic for the first time. He beats down Blargan the Hip-Shmiggling Doshuzombie with a push-broom. And like Sum Dog always said: Don't mess with Texas, Argentina, Japan, Canada, China, Korea, Mexico, Armania, Italy, UK, Nigeria, Egypt, Israel, Uzbechistan, or Djiboudi (Ja-booty). Oh I could go off on the Djiboudi jokes.

Uneventful day. Watched a thing on underage drinking in Health. My opinion on that particular subject is rather bious, since my family has been completely destroyed by alchohol. My grandparents on my father's side divorced because of it. My grandfather on my mother's side abused the drink terribly (and his family, subsequently). How much difference could it have made if prohibition had worked. Ah, but what do I know?

Failed. But that's alright. Dad's thinking of talking to my teachers about my grades. After all, not that I'm trying to pass the buck, but if we hadn't taken that trip, my grades would be right good. The travel irritated a nasal infection which caused me to be absent for two days on top of the week we already had taken off for the trip. That's a long time to be gone from school and a lot of work to catch up on. Most of the teachers whose classes I'm doing miserably in are reasonable anyway. I certainly hope for the best. My grades have absolutely ruled this year. I'd hate to have worked this hard to come up with a 2.0 gpa. Bleh. I Pray.

So...uh....now see? This is why I'm such a terrible journal writer. I never know what to say.

Yeah, I was too tired and lazy to do it yesterday. So here it is. Oh great, now I can't remember.

Nothing especially notable happened at school, except for we got to listen to my mom's 50's music in History.

After school I went and hung out at Scoot's house. We did some can cutting. Taylor, Swiffer, and Seagull ditched me when we were going to go up to the foothills to film Statistic Attack 3 Flashback Scene; which was really dumb considdering I had basically the whole film studio in MY backpack. So instead of going up there and trying to find them, I turned around and played lazy with Scoot. At night we did some Gumdo and Capoeira training. That's about all that happened.

So I'm in the proccess of resurecting an old project: Elemental Conflict. Swiffer and I formed Elemental Conflict in seventh grade, long before Whookos was formed the following year. It's essentially an almighty cross between TCG, Role Playing, and massive strategic board game. It's like Magic the Dongeons and Checkers. We had to shut down the project and start from scratch when we realized the way we were building the game wasn't working. I rebuilt the project from scratch, but never finished, because nobody was buying, and because other things were starting to get in my way, primarily 12 hour school days between regular school and Alpine Low Life Center. Even then, the project was slowing to a grinding halt.

RJ Shipp's little brother Johnathon was the one who resurected the drive for the project. His brother showed him his old deck and John wanted some of his own. Right now I'm preparing to make him a deck. Who knows, if Swiffer could play his part in getting this thing off the ground, I'd be happy to put this thing back into production. After all, with the size of this project, there's no reason why it couldn't be sold to a large market.

So that was my day. Not too much to read about, but come to think of it, there never really is.

Once again a failed attempt at filming. It's looking like Statistic Attack Parts 3 and 4 will follow the same pattern that Whookos Star Wars Episode W did. If anybody ever realized that it's ending sucked, that's because it was never filmed. We ran out of time and never made it back to filming the end. Thus it was anticlimactic.

Got up very late, and helped my dad with some yard work. I love yard work, for the same reason I like to cook out doors, go fishing, get in fights, I'm genetically programmed to do it. Provide, Preside, and Protect right? Heheh. That looks like that's about all I'm good for.

Once again I had to decline offers for pleasure and work because I had made plans with my friends, and once again, they rendered themselves unable to help. It's starting to piss me off. Next time they want to do something, I'll tell them that I can't, because I know they'll flake out on me. It's just really frustrating when I put aside my time for them and they can't pay me the respect to be available. I could have been babysitting for Colleen! Gosh!

Deep breath. So I watched Phantom again. I liked it. The only thing I don't like is that it makes me feel more classy than I really am. I get whatever remnant of class I have from my mother. I am not classy. I think of myself as more romantic white trash...like the Jeff Foxworthy show. But creeping shadows of fancy dinner sets and white collar business parties stains the white trashiness that I have worked so hard to obtain. Okay, being raised with the father that I have, I havn't actually worked hard at it, but it's still the personae I would rather not diminish. No matter how many times my mother sprays the shoe closset, it will ever smell of mud-stained leather.

I was watching Phantom with Seagull and Scoot. Seagull's parents called and told her she had to go home. It was dark, so I was going to walk her, but when I ran after her, she had dissapeared. I'm hoping that her Dad was calling her from the driveway and she just ran in and drove away, because there is no way in the space of just over one-hundred seconds she could have made it beyond Heather Rd. on foot, while I was on bike. I may just be paranoid, but there are people here in happy valley who would do the unthinkable. Besides, if she hadn't come home yet, Scoot's house would have been called, then I would have been contacted right after that. Certainly they would have noticed by now. Right?

Deep breath. Well, I suppose another thing I inherited from my mother is an unhealthy worry about those I care about. She always talks about her girls being ten minutes late after curfiew, and her mind going over the worst case senario over and over. I'm not that bad, but have plucked my share of grey hairs. Of course with hair my color, grey isn't nearly as far removed.

I was embarrased this morning. I had an official blonde moment. I slept downstairs last night thinking dad was coming home. He came home, but didn't wake me up, so I didn't really see him till this morning. Thus: I had to be told to come upstairs in the morning. On my way up, Mom asked me if I were ready. I didn't know what she was talking about, so I didn't sweat it and went back to bed. Then she reminded me of two things: 1) It's the Sabbath today. 2) We're going to meeting in five minutes. Needless to say I was late and I walked. I got about halfway there, and realized that I had no tie, so I had to go back. I caught the tail end of Brother Martini's speach. He's really Brother Martin, but somehow we gave him that nickname in the 2nd Ward. Appearantly I was the only person who liked his talk. Everybody else fell asleep. I woulnd't have fallen asleep had I been there the whole time, he is really funny, it's just he's got the same stage delivery as Steven Wright.

the gang cam over for dinner for Fathers day. That was nice. I got my dad a belt, one that he can get wet and grungy in the deserts of South Utah. i should have gotten myself one too. I'm planning on going up to the mountain to train for hell week tomorrow. I'll get up really early.

The most incredible thing happened today. After doing some housework this morning, I went out to practice stick in the mazda (Which I've just about mastered btw). I went down 4th East as far south as it would let me (which is dissapointingly less than I thought. It ends at the mall), then I wound the south streets until I wound up in the highlands of Provo along Y mountain. I wound my way down hoping to see the EFY people on campus, but I wound up at the rock canyon park. Now let me explain something about this park.

Some of my earliest memories begin in this park. I remember on the giant hill between the pavilion and the track was covered in snow. We had gone up there when my dad was the priest quorum JB or Maybs (the scoutmaster dude). It was a mutual activity with the sons of thunder. I, being the unofficial mascot of thunder went with them. In the summer, I would play on the two playgrounds hidden in the trees near the pavilion.

Now, with memories this old, the mist that clouds their clarity and the abrupt flashes of rougly cut remembrance make the memories difficult to distinguish from dreams. Long ago, I had passed off these memories as dreams, inventions of my imagination, just like the dream of Alisa and the seven judges. And as I came out of the trees and caught sight of the hill, the burriers between reality and dreams disolved, and time itself became obsolete. I was back with the Sons of Thunder, Tropp 499 of the Orem Utah Heatheridge 2nd Ward. Brady and...I even think Mclane was there with them. John Pellow,

and of course my dad. I was pulling a sled up a hill, and McLane saved me from a sled that would have hit me head on. And then it was summer. I rummage through the trees and discover a tan playground, much bigger than the blue one I knew about. I begin playing on the slide, and hiding from Mommy as we gather into the Magic Bus so that she would forget about me and let me stay and play forever. Now Alisa is there with me. It's so warm! We're swinging. Alisa jumps off the swing and lands in the gravel. She tells me to do the same, but I am scared. Now I am getting into an inflatable raft with Mom, Dad, and Erin. My dad takes us down the canal. But it's a short trip. The water disappears into the storage tank, and we must get out before the drain pops the boat. Erin lifts me onto the concrete lip up above, and I am scared because the ground is rushing by me.

And now I am sixteen years old, sitting on the bench of the pavilion. My gaze drifts from the bank of the canal up to Moroni standing alone atop the Provo temple. I realize how precious even the simple memories are. Something like a park or a picture of a birthday party and a long lost friend can mean so much to a soul. I have often spoken of emotions that run deeper into the soul then the simple ones. The ones that the tongues of men have names for, that is. Scoot and I were discussing these feelings. In the spirit of randomness I dubbed them "Color electroshock-happy yes". It is the same emotion that I felt saturated in the park, or in the picture of Alisa at Chuck E Cheese, or at Lagoon when I rekindled my friendship with Hannah. If ever you need proof of divinity and the tender mercies of the Lord, one must only experience this...colorelectroshockhappy yes for themselves.

Appearantly www.sopegirls.com was not, in fact, down. I don't know why I thought otherwise. I got talking with Gemma, and it's as up as it's ever been, though it hasn't been updated since...well almost since the last time I updated Randomus.com. So I went there and there was an option to contact any of the members of SOPE. I clicked on the link labeled "Mem". I appologized for being such a dork at EFY, blaming it on horemones, stupidity, and "the tendancy to lean on the block of social-backwards-ness". I am genuinely sorry for the awkwardness that the two of us sustained throughout the week, but I'm not as sure as I put on in the email that it was entirely my fault. The other girls at EFY seemed to think I was cute, sweet, and considderate. So the question remains: What is Whitney's beef with me?

One possible answer arrived as I was poking around the website. I found profiles. Listen to what it has listed for Mem:

Name: Mem

Age: 15

Height: 5' 1”

Hair color: Golden brown

Eye color: Green

Distinguishable features: Braids

SOPE power: Mem is a Pretear--that is, when she holds a bishonen's hand, she obtains their costume and powers.

Likes: Spicy foods, dogs, animals, green, yellow, rollerblading, biking, playing games, and dressing up for no reason.

Dislikes: Beans, angst, depression, bright lights, loud noises, and lobsters.

Hidden talent: Hula dancing

Secret ambition: Learn to yodel and learn to beatbox

Short description: The youngest of the SOPEgirls with the attention span of a gnat, Mem is shy and a bit of a ditz. She seems to be a total cutesy shoujo type, but still tends to get excited when she sees an explosion or a fight. She is easily distracted and zones out a lot. Even the slightest bit of sugar or too little sleep will make her extremely hyperactive. She is inseparable from her childhood friend, Mio (much to Mio's annoyance). She sometimes forgets when to keep her mouth shut and tends to reveal too much.

www.sopegirls.com, emphasis added.

Would I be full of it to think that these things could explain her odd behavior around me? Could I have mistaken innocent behavior for total disrespect? Let's look at a visual manifestation of the possibility for a moment. On the left is the behavior I saw/misinterpreted (allegedly), and on the right is one of the bolded words from the profile.

Ignoring me: Shy, easily distracted, zones out a lot, too little sleep (12:00-6:00 isn't terrible, but it's still not enough)

Reclusive: Inseperable from her childhood friend Mio (who was with her the whole time)

And the following are possible explainations to why she might feel shy around me:

~Excited when she sees explosions and/or fights (She must have noticed when I scared those creeps off with a side-kick stopping right in front of one's face. After all, I was nearby and yelled pretty loud).

~Likes...playing games and dressing up (both of which I did actively and repeatedly throughout the week)

~Aspires to...beatbox (Which I did repeatedly. I wasn't bad either. My lips were having a good week)

~Sometimes doesn't know when to keep her mouth shut (She may have been afraid she'd say something dumb?)

Okay, you're right. I look at it, and it all sounds so very circumstancial. But unless the above possibility is correct, then the only remaining possibility is what I originially assumed: that she remembered how stupid I acted in Jr. High and has no perception that I'm a different person now. But I always thought she was nicer than that...and smarter for that matter. Then again, I seem to remember her ignoring me in a very similar manner in Jr. High as well. Oh what am I going to do?!

So here's the poll today: Am I just a weak-hearted drooler? I mean, look at my last posts! Aside from my EFY journal, they've all been me ranting about girls...not just any girls, but girls that tear me apart inside. Except for Hannah...cuz...she doesn't actually tear me up inside. She's perfect. But Hiromi, Alia, Mem, am I missing any? Am I supposed to be made of sterner stuff? Should it be harder to tear me apart inside?

On the bright side, as illustrated in my comic featuring Mem and me, as well as in the post rambling in Texanese, I've grown a valuble skill to my image as a man: I am pretty darn good about bottling up my emotions. I know it's not healthy, but what's a guy gonna do? If I cry, I hide it. If you get under my skin, I smile and walk away. If you dis me, I say "whatever dude," no matter what I'm feeling inside. In fact, if all went well, Mem has no idea how much I stressed over the fact that she didn't even aknowlege my existance.

I tried a few times during the week to communicate with her. Once on the first day, the most blatant example of her completely ignoring me. After that...I was afraid to even go near her. She was the only girl I wasn't comfortable escorting. I was afraid of either being shot down again, or maybe worse: she would talk to me, but not ever throw down her wall, just going through the motions of a conversation, cold and emotionless, interacting at the bere minimum she could muster. Because of this fear, I avoided her like the plague.

But then, come Wednesday, it was her, and it was me. We were both outside at the bell tower. I looked around, and realized that most of the girls were already on a guys arm. I looked around for the nearest available girl, desperately trying to not appear reclusive. The only one I saw was Mem. Though quite appearantly hesitant. I approached her. She didn't look at me.

"May I have the pleasure of escor..." my shaky voice began, only to be cut off by an approaching young man.

"Can I escore you?" He says calmly and cooly.

"Sure," She replies.

I was still, at this point, in a bind to find a girl before they were all taken. There was one more guy than there were girls, and I was not going to be the one escorting a councilor. There's nothing wrong with our councilors, it's just a sad thing when you didn't act fast enough to get a girl your own age.

And as if that wasn't bad enough, it happened twice more before I caught a girl. I put on a stonewall face, smiled, and walked along side Brooke carying on a conversation: This was her last year, she liked to snowboard but hadn't gone in a long time, she had enjoyed High School but was ready to be done with it on her first day...see? I can be a sweet guy. I remember the little things. I looked unshaken and happy, but inside, I was hanging my head, sighing deeply, and trudging.

There was a game. They called it "Ant Eater", and it reminded me of the Trolls and Hobits game. The kids bolt across no-man's-land to a safety zone, trying not to get tagged. If you're tagged, you're dead where you stand. It takes four of those that made it, one for each limb, going back into noman's land to carry a dead person back to safety.

So Mem, being her usual self, was caught at the very start of the game, and so was the farthest away from the safety zone you could get. I went for it. I slide across the grass like a baseball player, grabbed hold of her leg, and waited for Mio and some others to dare the distant journey back into the heart of danger to help me bring Mem in. It was during this period of waiting that our only interaction the whole week took place.

"You're supposed to make it farther than this, Mem!" I jabbed, jokingly.

Caught up in the action surrounding her, she explained, "I tripped over a kid and they caught me."

And that was it. And to this day, I don't know if she even realized that she was speaking to me. Because given the evidence, it seems like if she had known who she was speaking to, she wouldn't be speaking. It was more likely that she was too distracted by the commotion and the beat of her heart to realize it was me, or at least to register that she was supposed to be ignoring me.

She posed for a picture for my benefit once on Friday. Aside from this and the game instance, there was no interaction. Unknown to her (I hope), I occasionally lowered my scriptures to catch a glimpse of the sun on her face, or the gleam in her eye. Often, I was sitting behind her, which brought me back to the days in eighth and ninth grade, sitting behind her in the Foyer of Oak Canyon Jr High, observing her every stroke with her pencil and sketch pad. Much of my limited drawing ability I can attribute to watching her manipulate her graphite. Though I will never match her ability, in a very real sense, she unknowingly taught me how to express myself through the medium of manga.

So here's the point in every one of these posts where I throw my hands up in the air, exclaim, "I don't know what to do!", and abandon the quest to quiet the sheering rumble in my heart that drives me to write the post in the first place. Though writing about this stuff is rather therepudic, it is not a cure for the ache that these girls cause me. This is not one of the things I can make go away by telling myself, "other people shouldn't have the power to control your feelings like that." Is that understandable? The only way to make the ache go away is to confront the source (the girl), and begin a journey into the deapths of her soul and mine, exploring the mysteries surrounding each one.

I have made a concious effort to do just that. Excepting Hiromi (because I will never feel comfortable talking to her about what she does to me), I have made an effort to incite said exploration. I've emailed Whitney, and I've spent hours trying to find any information concerning contact information from Alia. It seems the only success I've had is with Hannah, and she's the only one who doesn't tear me apart inside.

So now the only thing I've got left to do is wait expectantly on events that I can't be sure will ever happen. For example: Alia coming to visit Hiromi, and me getting a chance to talk with her one-on-one. Unlikely. Unlikelier still is Mem reading and responding to the email I sent. I don't even know if she checks her sopegirls.com email address. If I don't get a response in a day or two, I'll run her information through my database bug and see if I can't find an alternate email address. If it gets to the point, I'm not above looking her up in the phonebook and giving her a call. I know, I'm acting like a durainged stalker, but I just...I gotta talk to her. This isn't like Alia's smile that bugs me so much, because there's a possibility that there was a lot less to that than I was reading in to. But with Mem, there is one fact that dominates the mystery: She would not aknowlege my existance the way she did with everybody else. And I mean everybody else. There is a definite solution, and I'll toss and turn until I find it.

Though Love is a game whose rules I cannot yet grasp, there is something here. The mysteries that drive men to the stars and to every untouched corner of human understanding, those curiosities drive me forward. I am an explorer into strange territory. Not untrodden by previous explorers, but strange to me. Though I ought be satisfied with where I am, my curiosity drives me unwantedly forward like an ox is driven by his master's whip. I cannot stop exploring these realms. I cannot, or I would. I cannot. I will not.

Love is such a loaded word, and maybe one I shouldn't talk about after such an emotionally exhausting day.

What is love? Love is many things. The most commonly connotated definition is the one that develops, at least in this culture, through courtship which eventually leads to marriage. "True love" is often the specific term that this kind of love is given. There are many different forms of love than this, but this post is going to be long enough as it is.

And here is the one time, end all answer to what True love is: An anxious concern for your comanion's well being. Yes, on an abstract, emotional level, its roots cut deeper than that definition, but that does not dethrone it from the position of the one time end all answer to what true love is.

And yet we are uncomfortable with admitting when we love someone. Why?

Because love is such a loaded word.

It's a loaded concept. There are not enough words for the volume of stuff crammed into that one word. It is. It's very, very loaded. It means so many things, and so we are afraid of what it might mean; of what it could mean. So will I say that I love her?

Love is such a loaded word!

Because saying that would imply action. It's like a similar abstract principle called faith. Faith is not a passive principle. It implies action, or it is dead. John said this. Does love require action?

Love is such a loaded word!

And if I say, "I love you," does that imply that I intend to act? Does it imply that I expect action? The answer to that goes back to the above question: Does love require action? I would think that action motivated by love is a good action. This is, after all, at the root of our human existance, and our capacity to ascend beyond that through the merits of our brother. So action motivated by love is good. But then, if I love someone, truly love someone, am I not required to avoid action motivated by that love?

Love is such a loaded word.

So if I tell her, what will that do? Will it damage us? Will it bring us closer? Do we want to be closer? Will it ruin us? Which of the many implications Love may or may not cary will she accept, if any?

Love is such a loaded word.

And it is these last questions that will determine once and for all the answer to the question that motivated this whole train of thought: Do I tell her? Pros: I think, by definition, I do love her. In fact, I'm sure of it. It's in my heart, screaming at me to tell her. Cons: Every stinkin last one of these questions.

Love is such a loaded word.

No. No I will not say it. I won't. But as I gain understanding, I will feel more comfortable with doing so. Maybe now, maybe in the distant future. Who can tell with these kind of things? It may not be until I'm old and grey, until my children have grown up, and had children of their own. It won't be an ounce less true then than it is now. But now is not the time. Now is not the time.

Because right now Love is still such a very, very loaded word.

A static vortex of oppressive clouds of a dichotomist-like nature, encompassing both Love and Hate, neither one nor the other possessing whole nor half, but swirling into one another, forming a monstrosity of the two passionate extremes. And under the weight of the turmoil from thence, they refuse, even in their swirling mixture, to neutralize one-another into a dull, gray emotional flatline, but entering into my heart, consume all that is good in this world. The swirling nature of these cannibalistic passions is a waltz to a bittersweet tune. The polished floor of the ornate ballroom reflects her beautiful face like liquid amber. My feet know the rhythm, my heart the tune, my eyes her soul. Her gaze bares with it that familiar, ascendant fixation and gloss that tells me that she is absorbed in the waltz, dancing on clouds, slow-motion within the ridiculously rapid tempo. I wonder, then, what my eyes tell of me. I misstep, and she follows to compensate. The dance draws us close, close enough for a whisper. “What’s the matter?” she asks softly, her eyes filled with Loving concern, her soft voice barely audible. “What are we supposed to dance like? What did they tell us we’re supposed to dance like?” “Like we’re in…” But she stops, as she feels something warm on her hand. In a sudden, terrible instant, her heart sinks into the pit of her stomach as the realization strikes her awareness like lightening. She screams in terror and recoils her hand from the cold knife that she has unknowingly helped drive into my side. I thrust myself in to her, plunging the blade deeper; a furious, burning pain overcomes my senses, releasing the hold my conscious mind has on that vortex of hate and turmoil and setting me free, free at last. “Like we’re in…Love?”